Memoirs of William Wordsworth, poet-laureate

UMIVOF

MEMOIRS

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

MEMOIRS

OF

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH,

POET-LAUREATE, D. C. L.

BY

CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D.

CANON OF WESTMINSTER.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

EDITED BY HENRY REED.
VOL. II.

BOSTON
TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS

MDCCCLI. \W

* a

*x

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by

TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

Pfc

1/.2.

THL'KSTOX, TOnRY, AND EMERSON, PRINTERS.

•

CONTENTS

OF THE SECOND VOLUME

CHAPTER XXXII.
Removal to Rydal Page I

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Opinions on certain Questions of Policy, Domestic and

Foreign. — 1811-1821 ;"<: 0

CHAPTER XXXIV.
Tour in Scotland . . . '! •'.'• >fl 27

CHAPTER XXXV.
4 The Excursion ' \. '. *"' * . ** *! . 30

CHAPTER XXXVI.

« The White Doe of Rylstone, or the Fate of the Nor-

tons.' — Thanksgiving Ode ^^ . » t • 53

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Laodamia. — Dion. — Ode to Lycoris. — Lines on Tra-
jan's Pillar. — Translation of Virgil. — Latin Poems
hy the Author's Son, the Rev. John Wordsworth . 64

VI CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Letter to a Friend of Burns. — Letter on Monuments to

Literary Men ........ 83

CHAPTER XXXIX.
Peter Bell. — The Waggoner. — Sonnets on the Duddon 95

CHAPTER XL.
Memorials of a Tour on the Continent . . . .102

CHAPTER XLI.
Ecclesiastical Sonnets. — Rydal Chapel . . . 112

CHAPTER XLII.

Tour in Holland, &c. 1823.— Tour in North Wales,

1824.— Tour on the Rhine, 1828 .... 119

CHAPTER XLIII.
On the Church of Rome 135

CHAPTER XLIV.
Poems written in 1826-1831 156

CHAPTER XLV.
On Education 167

CHAPTER XLVI.
Personal History, 1819-1830 »-•*.. 'i . 207

CHAPTER XLVII.
Yarrow Revisited, and other Poems .... 231

CONTENTS. Vll

CHAPTER XLVIII.
Memorials of a Tour in Scotland, &c. 1833 . . .247

CHAPTER XLIX.

Political Apprehensions. — Reform in Parliament. — Uni-
versity Reform. — Evening Voluntaries , •> v " . 253

CHAPTER L.
Domestic History, 1833-1837 276

CHAPTER LI.

Personal Reminiscences, 1836 . . . . ;'. 301

CHAPTER LIL
Memorials of a Tour in Italy . . . . i * 319

CHAPTER LIII.
Other Poems in the same Volume . . . . 336

CHAPTER LIV.
Personal Narrative » . ? . . ;. . . 347

CHAPTER LV.
Personal History . ..... .358

CHAPTER LVI.
Personal History, 1840, 184 1 . . .", ,, ^^ ,. 368

CHAPTER LVII.
Personal History, 1841-1843 388

Vlll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER LVIII.
Appointment to the Laureateship 403

CHAPTER LIX.
Personal History, 1843 - 1845 410

CHAPTER LX.
Personal History, 1846 431

CHAPTER LXI.
Personal History 441

CHAPTER LXII.
Reminiscences 447

CHAPTER LXIII.
Reminiscences. — Miscellaneous Memoranda . .477

CHAPTER LXIV.
Conclusion 515

MEMOIRS

OF

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

CHAPTER XXXII.

REMOVAL TO RYDAL.

IN the spring of 1811, Mr. Wordsworth removed his fami-
ly from Allan Bank, in consequence of the desire of the
proprietor to occupy it with his own household, and he
took up a temporary abode at the Parsonage, which is
separate from the western boundary of the churchyard at
Grasmere by the Keswick road. This sojourn was sad-
dened by affliction. Two of his children, Catharine and
Thomas, as before mentioned, died at the Parsonage, after
a very short illness, the one on June 4th, 1812, the other
on the 1st December of the same year.

Under other circumstances, it would * have been very
difficult for him to withdraw from the Vale of Grasmere,
which had been the first object of his choice in the beau-
tiful region of the lakes, and had been his home for twelve
years. But now its beauties were mingled with sad

VOL. II. 1

2 REMOVAL TO RYDAL.

reminiscences. c The house,' he says, in a letter l to Lord
Lonsdale, ' which I have for some time occupied, is the
Parsonage of Grasmere. It stands close by the church-
yard ' (where his two children were buried), ' and I have
found it absolutely necessary that we should quit a place
which, by recalling to our minds at every moment the
losses we have sustained in the course of the last year,
would grievously retard our progress towards that tranquil-
lity which it is our duty to aim at.' This was written in
the first freshness of sorrow ; and it so happened, that a
very desirable residence was then about to become vacant
in the neighbourhood, about two miles distant from Gras-
mere ; and thus a favourable occasion offered itself for a
removal. This was RYDAL MOUNT. Thither Mr. Words-
worth migrated with his wife, his sister, sister-in-law, and
three children, in the spring of 1813, and there he resided
till his death in 1850. This place has been already de-
scribed in a previous chapter.

In that delineation, I have described its appearance by
day, but have not touched on its nocturnal aspect. In the
lines prefixed to the later editions of his poems, the au-
thor apostrophizes himself, and says,

' If thou indeed derive thy light from heaven,
Then, to the measure of that heavenborn light,
Shine, POET, in thy place, and be content.'

These and the following lines were suggested by the view
of the starry heavens, as seen at Rydal Mount. On these
verses the Poet said, c They were written some time after
we had become resident at Rydal Mount ; and I will take
occasion from them to observe upon the beauty of that
situation, as being backed and flanked by lofty fells,

1 Dated Jan. 8, 1813.

REMOVAL TO RYDAL. 3

which bring the heavenly bodies to touch, as it were, the
earth upon the mountain-tops, while the prospect in front
lies open to a length of level valley, the extended lake,
and a terminating ridge of low hills ; so that it gives an
opportunity to the inhabitants of the place of noticing the
stars in both the positions here alluded to, namely, on the
tops of the mountains, and as winter-lamps at a distance
among the leafless trees.' l

The change of residence to Rydal was marked by
another personal incident of importance in Mr. Words-
worth's life. This was his appointment to the distributor-
ship of stamps in the county of Westmoreland : he was
nominated to that situation on the 27th March, 1813.
Whether his literary merits might have then been thought
sufficient of themselves to entitle him to public recogni-
tion and reward, is not easy to say ; certain it is he was
indebted to that truly noble-minded person, the late Lord
Lonsdale, for representing his claims, and for supporting
them by his influence ; and it was undoubtedly, in a great
measure, through his lordship's good offices, that Mr.
Wordsworth was placed in a situation which raised his
income to an easy competency, and freed him from pri-
vate cares, without oppressing him with public ones : he
was released from anxiety, without forfeiting leisure and
liberty ; he was also left in his own picturesque county.
Hence in the year following, he was able to complete and
publish ' The Excursion,' in a prefatory sonnet to which
he thus speaks :

1 Now, by thy care befriended, I appear
Before thee, LONSDALE ; and this work present,
A token (may it prove a monument !)
Of high respect and gratitude sincere.'

1 MSS. I. F.

4 REMOVAL TO RYDAL.

It were much to be desired, that such situations as these
were more numerous than they are, and that those which
exist were more carefully conferred. They are better
than pensions, as rewards for literary men ; for they do
not encourage the notion, that literary service of the high-
est order can be compensated by money, and they do not
exhibit those who hold them as wearing the livery of a
political party, or as stipendiaries of the state. It is no
objection to say that some of them are almost sinecures.
Mr. Wordsworth's office was by no means a sinecure, as
his coadjutor and successor can attest. But, grant that
some of these offices are sinecures : what then ? A sine-
cure, which would have relieved Dante or Tasso from the
cravings of penury, would have had a function attached
to it of the noblest kind. Such sinecures (if so they
must be called) are more useful to the public than some
laborious offices, the duties of which are discharged with
bustling and restless activity.

Some time after Mr. Wordsworth received this ap-
pointment, another offer was made him of a much
more lucrative office, — the collectorship of the town of
Whitehaven. This, however, he declined. He had now
enough to gratify his moderate desires ; and no worldly
allurements could remove him from the beautiful retire,-
ment of Rydal to a large town.

It would be unpardonable to neglect another circum-
stance connected with his appointment, which tended
much to relieve Mr. Wordsworth's mind from care, and
to leave him free to follow his literary pursuits. This
was his connection with a young man who then came to
him as a clerk, Mr. John Carter. Many incidents of a
domestic kind occurred in Mr. Wordsworth's life, which
contributed, in their due order and degree, to aid in the
removal of difficulties, and in the supply of means and

REMOVAL TO RYDAL. 5

appliances, in his poetical career. For example, his
antipathy to writing was compensated by the readiness of
those around him to commit his words to paper. He held
a pen with reluctance and impatience, but he wielded
many pens in the hands of others. * And in his official
coadjutor, he not only found a person well qualified
to administer his affairs, but also a vigilant corrector of
the press, a sound scholar, and a judicious critic. And
justice would not be done, and Mr. Wordsworth's feelings
would be wronged, if his own name went down to pos-
terity unaccompanied by that of one who served him
faithfully, zealously, and efficiently for thirty-seven years,
and, by thus serving him as he did, conferred a benefit on
the world.

* [The following characteristic allusion is made to this subject
by his friend Charles Lamb : — ' Tell Mrs. W. her postscripts are
always agreeable. They are so legible too. Your manual-graphy
is terrible, dark as Lycophron. * # I should not wonder if the
constant making out of such paragraphs is the cause of that
weakness in Mrs. W.'s eyes, as she is tenderly pleased to express
it. Dorothy, I hear, has mounted spectacles ; so you have deocu-
lated two of your dearest relations in life. Well, God bless you,
and continue to give you power to write with a finger of power
upon our hearts what you fail to impress, in corresponding lucid-
ness, upon our outward eye-sight ! ' — ' Final Memorials of Charles
Lamb/ Chap. vi. — H. B.]

CHAPTER XXXIII.

OPINIONS ON CERTAIN QUESTIONS OF POLICY, DOMESTIC
AND FOREIGN. 1811-1821.

ALTHOUGH Mr. Wordsworth's life was passsed mainly in
retirement, yet, as will be obvious to every reader of his
works, and, as has been remarked already in these pages,
he was a vigilant observer of public affairs. He did not
sequester himself from the world, in order to forget its
concerns, but to study them more profoundly. His idea
of a ; Recluse ' was that of one who was also a cos-
mopolite and a philanthropist. In loving nature, he loved
man and society, as the noblest works of nature ; and,
therefore, in the exordium of the ' Recluse,' he says,

' On Man, on Nature, and on human Life,
Musing in solitude, I oft perceive
Fair trains of imagery before me rise.' l

He endeavoured to wean the public mind from material
and transitory things to spiritual and lasting ones, to extri-
cate it from the entanglement of circumstantial details,
and to place it on the solid foundation of essential prin-
ciples. His political opinions are, therefore, interwoven
with his poetical imagery ; and both in poetry and politics
he evinced the same resolute determination not to be
swayed by the current of popular opinions, but to en-

1 Vol. vi. p. 5.

POLITICAL OPINIONS. 7

deavour to bring popular opinions to the test of sound
reason, and the standard of enlightened experience. I
remember one day, when I was walking with him in a
village of Middlesex, on a bright day, that he pointed to
the sun, then in its meridian splendour. ' The sun,' said
he, 4 was personified by the ancients as a charioteer driv-
ing four fiery steeds over the vault of heaven ; and this
solar charioteer was called PhcEbus, or Apollo, and was
regarded as the god of poetry, of prophecy, and of medi-
cine. Phoebus combined all these characters. And every
poet has a similar mission on earth : he also must be a
Phoebus in his own way ; he must diffuse health and
light ; he must prophesy to his generation ; he must teach
the present age by counselling with the future ; he must
plead for posterity ; and he must imitate Phoebus in guid-
ing and governing all his faculties, fiery steeds though they
be, with the most exact precision, lest, instead of being a
Phoebus, he prove a Phaeton, and set the world on fire, and
be hurled from his car ; he must rein-in his fancy, and
temper his imagination, with the control and direction of
sound reason, and drive on in the right track with a
steady hand.'

Mr. Wordsworth being thus commissioned, as a poet,
to execute, as it were, a prophetical, and almost a sacer-
dotal office, for the benefit of society, — ,and his mission
being extended to great public interests, and being con-
cerned about great public questions, it is necessary, for
the illustration of his works, to trace the course of his
opinions on subjects of domestic and foreign policy.

This may best be done in his own words ; and I shall,
therefore, here set down some intimations of his senti-
ments, as communicated to his friends ; confining myself
at present (with one exception) to communications from
the year 1811 to 1821.

8 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

Writing from Grasmere to his friend, Archdeacon
Wrangham, he says :

1 Grasmere, March 27.
1 My dear Wrangham,

1 Your last letter, which I have left so long unanswered,
found me in a distressed state of mind, with one of my
children lying nearly, as I thought, at the point of death.
This put me off answering your letter.

4 You return to the R. Catholic Question. I am decidedly
of opinion that no further concessions should be made.
The K. Catholic Emancipation is a mere pretext of ambi-
tious and discontented men. Are you prepared for the
next step — a R. Catholic Established Church ? I confess
I dread the thought.

4 As to the Bible Society, my view of the subject is as
follows: — 1st. Distributing Bibles is a good thing. 2dly.
More Bibles will be distributed in consequence of the
existence of the Bible Society ; therefore, so far as that
goes, the existence of the Bible Society is good. But,
3dly, as to the indirect benefits expected from it, as pro-
ducing a golden age of unanimity among Christians, all
that I think fume and emptiness ; nay, far worse. So
deeply am I persuaded that discord and artifice, and pride
and ambition, would be fostered by such an approximation
and unnatural alliance of sects, that I am inclined to think
the evil thus produced would more than outweigh the good
done by dispersing the Bibles. I think the last fifty or
sixty pages of my brother's pamphlet ] merit the serious
consideration of all persons of the Established Church

1 Reasons for declining to become a subscriber to the British
and Foreign Bible Society, by Christopher Wordsworth, D. D.,
Dean of Bocking. Lond. 1810. See also his letter to Lord Teign-
mouth in vindication of the above Letter. Lond. 1810.

'

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 9

who have connected themselves with the sectaries for this
purpose. .....

4 Entreating your pardon for my long delay in answer-
ing your letter, let me conclude with assuring you that I
remain, with great truth, your affectionate friend,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The following was addressed to the same friend by
Mr. Wordsworth, soon after his removal to Rydal Mount
in 1813:

'Rydal Mount, near Ambleside, Aug. 28, 1813.

1 My dear Wrangham,

' Your letter arrived when I was on the point of going
from home on business. I took it with me, intending to
answer it upon the road, but I had not courage to under-
take the office on account of the inquiries it contains
concerning my family. I will be brief on this melancholy
subject. In the course of the last year I have lost two
^sweet children, a girl and a boy, at the ages of four and
six and a half. These innocents were the delight of our
hearts, and beloved by everybody that knew them. They
were cut off in a few hours — one by the measles, and the
other by convulsions ; dying, one half a year after the
other. I quit this sorrowful subject, secure of your sym-
pathy as a father and as my friend.

1 My employment I find salutary to me, and of conse-
quence in a pecuniary point of view, as my literary
employments bring me no remuneration, nor promise any.
As to what you say about the ministry, I very much prefer
the course of their policy to that of the Opposition :
especially on two points most near my heart : resistance
of Buonaparte by force of arms, and their adherence to

10 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

the principles of the British Constitution in withholding
political power from the Roman Catholics. My most
determined hostility shall always be directed against those
statesmen who, like Whitbread, Grenville, and others,
would crouch to a sanguinary tyrant ; and I cannot act
with those who see no danger to the Constitution in intro-
ducing papists into Parliament. There are other points of
policy in which I deem the Opposition grievously mis-
taken, and therefore I am at present, and long have been,
by principle, a supporter of ministers, as far as my little
influence extends. With affectionate wishes for your
welfare and that of your family, and with best regards to
Mrs. Wrangham, I am, my dear friend,

4 Faithfully yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The following is of a more playful character :

'Rydal Mount, near Kendal, April 26, 1814.
4 My dear Wrangham,

1 1 trouble you with this in behalf of a very deserving
young clergyman of the name of Jameson, who is just
gone from this neighbourhood to a curacy at Sherbourne
in the neighbourhood of Ferry Bridge. He has a mother
and a younger brother dependent upon his exertions, and
it is his wish to take pupils in order to increase his income,
which, as he is a curate, you know, cannot but be small.
He is an excellent young man, a good scholar, and likely
to become much better, for he is extremely industrious.
Among his talents I must mention that for drawing, in

which he is a proficient Now my wish is

that, if it fall in your way, you would vouchsafe him your
patronage.

4 Of course, you cannot speak for him directly till you

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 11

have seen him ; but, might he be permitted to refer to you,
you could have no objection to say, that you were as yet
ignorant of his merits as to your own knowledge, but that
u your esteemed friend Mr. Wordsworth, that popular poet,
stamp-collector for Westmoreland, &c., had recommended
him strenuously to you as in all things deserving."

4 A portion of a long poem l from me will see the light
ere long ; I hope it will give you pleasure. It is serious,
and has been written with great labour

4 I mean to make a tour in Scotland with Mrs. W. and
her sister, Miss Hutchinson. I congratulate you on the
overthrow of the execrable despot, and the complete tri-
umph of the war faction, of which noble body I have the
honour to be as active a member as my abilities and indus-
try would allow. Best remembrances to yourself and Mrs.
Wrangham,

1 And believe me affectionately yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

In the year 1818* Mr. Wordsworth published 'Two
Addresses to the Freeholders of Westmoreland,' from
which the following paragraphs are derived.

1 The Excursion, published 1814.

* [Wordsworth's interest in political affairs is thus incidentally
alluded to by Mr. R. M. Milnes in his ' Life and Letters of Keats,'
in connection with a visit made by the younger poet to Rydal
Mount, in June, 1818 : — ' His (Keats's) disappointment at missing
Wordsworth was very great, and he hardly concealed his vexation
when he found that he owed the privation to the interest which
the elder poet was taking in the general election.' P. 107. It may
be added that it appears from Keats's letters that, as early as 1818,
he was in the habit of making comparisons between the genius
of Milton and that of Wordsworth. — H. R.]

12 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

' Looking up to the Government with respectful attach-
ment, we all acknowledge that power must be controlled
and checked, or it will be abused ; hence the desirableness
of a vigorous Opposition in the House of Commons ; and
hence a wish, grounded upon a conviction of general
expediency, that the opposition to ministry, whose head
and chief seat of action are in Parliament, should be
efficaciously diffused through all parts of the country. On
this principle the two grand divisions of party, under our
free government, are founded. Conscience, regulated by
expediency, is the basis ; honour, binding men to each
other in spite of temptation, is the corner-stone, and the
superstructure is friendship, protecting kindness, gratitude,
and all the moral sentiments by which self-interest is lib-
eralized. Such is party, looked at on the favourable side.
Cogent moral inducements, therefore, exist for the preva-
lence of two powerful bodies in the practice of the State,
spreading their influence and interests throughout the
country; and, on political considerations it is desirable
that the strength of each should bear such proportion to
that of the other, that, while Ministry are able to carry into
effect measures not palpably injurious, the vigilance of
Opposition may turn to account, being backed by power at
all times sufficient to awe, but never (were that possible),
except when supported by manifest reason, to intimidate.

4 Such apportioning of the strength of the two parties
has existed ; such a degree of power the Opposition for-
merly possessed: and if they have lost that salutary
power, if they are dwindled and divided, they must ascribe
it to their own errors. They are weak because they have
been unwise : they are brought low, because when they
had solid and high ground to stand upon, they took a flight
into the air. To have hoped too ardently of human
nature, as they did at the commencement of the French

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 13

Revolution, was no dishonour to them as men ; but poli-
ticians cannot be allowed to plead temptations to fancy, or
impulses of feeling, in exculpation of mistakes in judg-
ment. Grant, however, to the enthusiasm of philanthropy
as much indulgence as it may call for, it is still extraordi-
nary that, in the minds of English statesmen and legisla-
tors, the naked absurdity of the means did not raise a
doubt as to the attainableness of the end. Mr. Fox, cap-
tivated by the vanities of a system founded upon abstract
rights, chanted his expectations in the House of Parlia-
ment ; and too many of his friends partook of the illusion.
The most sagacious politician of his age broke out in an
opposite strain. Time has verified his predictions; the
books remain in which his principles of foreknowledge
were laid down ; but, as the author became afterwards a
pensioner of state, thousands, in this country of free opin-
ions, persist in asserting that his divination was guess-
work, and that conscience had no part in urging him to
speak. That warning voice proved vain ; the party from
whom he separated, proceeded, confiding in splendid ora-
torical talents and ardent feelings rashly wedded to novel
expectations, when common sense, uninquisitive experi-
ence, and a modest reliance on old habits of judgment,
when either these, or a philosophic penetration, were the
only qualities that could Jiave served them,

4 How many private individuals, at that period, were
kept in a rational course by circumstances, supplying
restraints which their own understandings would not have
furnished ! Through what fatality it happens, that bodies
of men are so slow to profit, in a similar way, by circum-
stances affecting their prosperity, the Opposition seem
never to have inquired. They could not avoid observing,
that the holders of property throughout the country, being
mostly panic-stricken by the proceedings in France,

14 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

turned instinctively against the admirers of the new sys-
tem ; and, as security for property is the very basis of
civil society, how was it possible but that reflecting men,
who perceive this truth, should mistrust those represent-
atives of the people, who could not have acted less pru-
dently, had they been utterly unconscious of it ! But they
had committed themselves and did not retract; either
from unabating devotion to their cause, or from false
honour, and that self-injuring consistency, the favourite
sister of obstinacy, which the mixed conscience of man-
kind is but too apt to produce. Meanwhile the tactics of
Parliament must continue in exercise on some system or
other ; their adversaries were to be annoyed at any rate ;
and so intent were they upon this, that, in proportion as
the entrenchments of Ministry strengthened, the assaults
of Opposition became more careless and desperate.

' While the war of words and opinions was going for-
ward in this country, Europe was deluged with blood.
They in whose hands power was vested among us, in
course of time lost ground in public opinion, through the
failure of their efforts. Parties were broken and re-
composed ; but men who are brought together less by
principle than by events, cannot cordially co-operate, or
remain long united. The opponents of the war, in this
middle stage and desponding state of it, were not popular ;
and afterwards, when the success of the enemy made the
majority of the nation feel that peace dictated by him
could not be lasting, and they were bent on persevering
in the struggle, the party of Opposition persisted in a
course of action which, as their countenance of the doc-
trine of the rights of man had brought their understand-
ings into disrepute, cast suspicion on the soundness of
their patriotic affections. Their passions made them
blind to the differences between a state of peace and war,

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 15

(above all, such a war !) as prescribing rules for their own
conduct. They were ignorant, or never bore in mind,
that a species of hostility which, had there been no foreign
enemy to resist, might have proved useful and honour-
able, became equally pernicious and disgraceful when a
formidable foe threatened us with destruction.

' I appeal to impartial recollection, whether, during the
course of the late awful struggle, and in the latter stages of
it especially, the antagonists of ministers, in the two houses
of parliament, did not, for the most part, conduct them-
selves more like allies to a military despot, who was
attempting to enslave the world, and to whom their own
country was an object of paramount hatred, than like
honest Englishmen, who had breathed the air of liberty
from their cradles. If any state of things could supply
them with motives for acting in that manner, they must
abide by the consequences. They must reconcile them-
selves as well as they can to dislike and disesteem, the
unavoidable results of behaviour so unnatural. Peace
has, indeed, come ; but do they who deprecated the con-
tinuance of the war, and clamoured for its close on any
terms, rejoice heartily in a triumph by which their prophe-
cies were belied ? Did they lend their voices to swell
the hymn of transport that resounded through our land,
when the arch-enemy was overthrown ? ^re they pleased
that inheritances have been restored, and that legitimate
governments have been re-established, on the Continent ?
And do they grieve when those re-established govern-
ments act unworthily of the favour which Providence has
shown them ? Do not too many, rather, secretly con-
gratulate themselves on every proof of imbecility or mis-
conduct there exhibited ; and endeavour that attention
shall be exclusively fixed on those melancholy facts, as if
they were the only fruits of a triumph, to which we Britons

16 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

owe that we are a fearless, undishonoured, and rapidly
improving people, and the nations of the Continent owe
their very existence as self-governed communities ?

1 The party of Opposition, or what remains of it, has
much to repent of; many humiliating reflections must
pass through the minds of those who compose it, and they
must learn the hard lesson to be thankful for them as a
discipline indispensable to their amendment. Thus only
can they furnish a sufficient nucleus for the formation of
a new body ; nor can there be any hope of such body
being adequate to its appropriate service, and of its pos-
sessing that portion of good opinion which shall entitle it to
the respect of its antagonists, unless it live and act, for a
length of time, under a distinct conception of the kind and
degree of hostility to the executive government which is
fairly warrantable. The party must cease indiscrimi-
nately to court the discontented, and to league itself with
men who are athirst for innovation, to a point which leaves
it doubtful, whether an Opposition that is willing to co-
operate with such agitators loves as it ought to do, and
becomingly venerates, the happy and glorious constitu-
tion, in church and state, which we have inherited from
our ancestors.' 1

1 The weakness and degradation of the Opposition,
deplored by all true friends of the commonweal, was suffi-
ciently accounted for, without even adverting to the fact,
that, when the disasters of the war had induced the coun-
try to forgive, and in some degree to forget, the alarming
attachment of that party to French theories ; and power,
heightened by the popularity of hope and expectation,
was thrown into their hands — they disgusted even bigoted
adherents, by the rapacious use they made of that power ;

1 Addresses, p. 9-16.

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 17

stooping to so many offensive compromises, and com-
mitting so many faults in every department, that a gov-
ernment of talents, * if such be the fruits of talent, was
proved to be the most mischievous sort of government
which England had ever been troubled with. So that,
whether in or out of place, an evil genius seemed to attend
them!

1 How could all this happen ? For the fundamental
reason, that neither the religion, the laws, the morals, the
manners, nor the literature of the country, especially as
contrasted with those of France, were prized by the
leaders of the party as they deserved." 1

4 Remember what England might have been with an
administration countenancing French doctrines at the
dawn of the French Revolution, and suffering them, as it
advanced, to be sown with every wind that came across
the channel ! Think what was the state of Europe before
the French emperor, the apparent, and in too many
respects the real, idol of Opposition, was overthrown !

4 Numbers, I am aware, do not cease vehemently to
maintain that the late war was neither just nor necessary ;
that the ostensible and real causes of it were widely dif-
ferent ; that it was not begun, and persisted in, for the
purpose of withstanding foreign aggression, and in defence
of social order ; but from unprincipled timbition in the
powers of Europe, eager to seize that opportunity of
agumenting their territories at the expense of distracted
and enfeebled France. Events, ever to be lamented, do,
I grant, give too much colour to those affirmations. But

1 Addresses, p. 20.

* [The special allusion here will not be overlooked by the
reader, recalling the well known name given to Lord Grenville's
Coalition Ministry in 1806-7. — H. R.]

VOL. II. 2

18 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

this was a war upon a large scale, wherein many bellig-
erents took part ; and no one who distinctly remembers
the state of Europe at its commencement, will be inclined
any more to question that the alleged motives had a solid
foundation, because then, or afterwards, others might mix
with them, than he would doubt that the maintenance of
Christianity, and the reduction of the power of the Infi-
dels, were the principal motives of the Crusades, because
roving adventurers, joining in those expeditions, turned
them to their own profit. Traders and hypocrites may
make part of a caravan bound to Mecca ; but it does not
follow that a religious observance is not the prime object
of the pilgrimage. The political fanaticism (it deserves
no milder name) that pervaded the manifesto issued by
the Duke of Brunswick, on his entry into France, proves
that he, and the power whose organ he was, were swayed
on their march by an ambition very different from that
of territorial aggrandizement ; at least, if such ambition
existed, it is plain that feelings of another kind blinded
them to the means of gratifying it. Nevertheless, we
must acknowledge, the passion soon manifested itself, and
in a quarter where it was least excusable. The seizure
of Valenciennes, in the name of the Emperor of Ger-
many, was an act of such glaring rapacity, and gave the
lie so unfeelingly to all that had been professed, that the
then ministers of Great Britain, doubtless, opposed the
intention with a strong remonstrance. But the dictates of
magnanimity (which in such cases is but another word for
high and sage policy) would have been — " this unjust act
must either be abandoned, or Great Britain shall retire from
a contest which, if such principles are to govern, or inter-
fere with, the conduct of it, cannot but be calamitous."
A threat to this purpose was either not given, or not acted
upon. Hinc ilia clades ! From that moment the alliance

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 19

of the French loyalists with the coalesced powers seemed
to have no ground of rational patriotism to stand upon.
Their professed helpers became their worst enemies ; and
numbers among them not only began to wish for the
defeat of their false friends, but joined themselves to their
fellow-countrymen, of all parties, who were labouring to
effect it. But the military successes of the French, arising
mainly from this want of principle in the confederate
powers, in course of time placed the policy and justice of
the war upon a new footing. However men might differ
about the necessity or reasonableness of resorting to
arms in the first instance, things were brought to such a
state that, among the disinterested and dispassionate, there
could be but one opinion (even if nothing higher than
security was aimed at), on the demand for the utmost
strength of the nation being put forth in the prosecution
of the war, till it should assume a more hopeful aspect.
And now it was that ministers made ample amends
for past subserviency to selfish coadjutors, and proved
themselves worthy of being entrusted with the fate of
Europe. While the Opposition were taking counsel from
their fears, and recommending despair — while they con-
tinued to magnify without scruple the strength of the
enemy, and to expose, misrepresent, and therefore in-
crease the weaknesses of their country, his majesty's
ministers were not daunted, though often discouraged :
they struggled up against adversity with fortitude, and
persevered heroically ; throwing themselves upon the
honour and wisdom of the country, and trusting for the
issue to the decrees of a just Providence : and for this
determination everlasting gratitude will attend them ! ' 1
In connection with these expressions of opinion, a

1 Addresses, p. 23 - 26.

20 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

communication to his friend Southey is here introduced,
though not written till many years afterward ; hut it
seemed to find a proper place here, as showing the con-
sistency of Mr. Wordsworth's sentiments on this subject.
The personal references in this letter will be read with
interest :

To Robert Southey, Esq.

1 , 1827.

' My dear Sir,

' Edith thanked you, in my name, for your valuable
present of the " Peninsular War." l I have read it with
great delight : it is beautifully written, and a most inter-
esting story. I did not notice a single sentiment or
opinion that I could have wished away but one — where
you support the notion that, if the Duke of Wellington
had not lived and commanded, Buonaparte must have
continued the master of Europe. I do not object to this
from any dislike I have to the Duke, but from a convic-
tion — I trust a philosophic one — that Providence would
not allow the upsetting of so diabolical a system as Buo-
naparte's to depend upon the existence of any individual.
Justly was it observed by Lord Wellcsley, that Buonaparte
was of an order of minds that created for themselves
great reverses. He might have gone further, and said
that it is of the nature of tyranny to work to its own
destruction.2

1 The first volume published 1823, the others in 1827 and 1832.
Mr. Wordsworth's copy has the following written on the title-page
in Mr. Southey's hand : l William Wordsworth, from the author,
Dec. 14, 1822: " Praecipuum munus Annalium reor, ne virtutes
sileantur, utque pravis dictis factisque ex posteritate et infamia
metus sit." — Tacitus.'

2 As has been said by Demosthenes.

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 21

4 The sentence of yours which occasioned these loose
remarks is, as I said, the only one I objected to, while
I met with a thousand things to admire. Your sympathy
with the great cause is everywhere energetically and
feelingly expressed. What fine fellows were Alvarez
and Albuquerque ; and how deeply interesting the siege
of Gerona !

4 1 have not yet mentioned dear Sir George Beaumont.1
His illness was not long ; and he was prepared by habitu-
ally thinking on his latter end. But it is impossible not
to grieve for ourselves, for his loss cannot be supplied.
Let dear Edith stay as long as you can ; and when she
must go, pray come for her, and stay a few days with us.
Farewell.

1 Ever most affectionately yours,

* W. W .'

The following is expressive of his opinion concerning
Mr. Southey as a writer :

To G. Huntly Gordon, Esq.

' Eydal Mount, May 14, 1829.

4 Mr. Southey means to present me (as usual) his " Col-
loquies," &c. There is, perhaps, not a page of them that
he did not read me in MS. ; and several of the Dialogues
are upon subjects which we have often discussed. I am
greatly interested with much of the book ; but upon its
effect as a whole I can yet form no opinion, as it was
read to me as it happened to be written. I need scarcely
say that Mr. Southey ranks very highly, in my opinion, as
a prose writer. His style is eminently clear, lively, and

1 Who died Feb. 7, 1827.

22 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF

unencumbered, and his information unbounded ; and there
is a moral ardour about his compositions which nobly
distinguishes them from the trading and factious author-
ship of the present day. He may not improbably be
our companion in Wales next year. At the end of this
month he goes, with his family, to the Isle of Man for sea-
air; and said, if I would accompany him, and put off the
Welsh tour for another year, he would join our party.
Notwithstanding the inducement, I could not bring myself
to consent ; but as things now are, I shall remind him of
the hope he held out.

' Believe me, very faithfully, yours,

<• WM. WORDSWORTH.

1 There is no probability of my being in town this
season. I have a horror of smoking ; and nothing but a
necessity for health's sake could reconcile me to it in
William.'

In the year 1821 (October 7), an old friend of Mr.
Wordsworth thus writes to him : < They tell me you have
changed your opinions upon many subjects respecting
which we used to think alike ; but I am persuaded we
shall neither of us change those great principles which
ought to guide us in our conduct, and lead us to do all
the good we can to others. And I am much mistaken if
we should not find many things to talk about without dis-
turbing ourselves with political or party disputes.'

To this communication Mr. Wordsworth's reply was as
follows :

'Rydal Mount, Dec. 4, 1821.
4 My dear L ,

1 Your letter ought to have been much earlier acknowl-

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 23

edged, and would have been so, had I not been sure you
would ascribe my silence to its true cause, viz. procrasti-
nation, and not to indifference to your kind attention.
There was another feeling which both urged and indis-
posed me to write to you, — I mean the allusion which,
in so friendly a manner, you make to a supposed change
in my political opinions. To the scribblers in pamphlets
and periodical publications who have heaped so much ob-
loquy upon myself and my friends Coleridge and Southey,
I have not condescended to reply, nor ever shall ; but
to you, my candid and enlightened friend, I will say a
few words on this subject, which, if we have the good for-
tune to meet again, as I hope we may, will probably be
further dwelt upon.

1 1 should think that I had lived to little purpose if my
notions on the subject of government had undergone no
modification : my youth must, in that case, have been
without enthusiasm, and my manhood endued with small
capability of profiting by reflection. If I were addressing
those who have dwelt so liberally with the words rene-
gade, apostate, &c., I should retort the charge, upon
them, and say, you have been deluded by places and
persons, while I have stuck to principles. I abandoned
France and her rulers when they abandoned the struggle
for liberty, gave themselves up to tyranny, and en-
deavoured to enslave the world. I disapproved of the war
against France at its commencement, thinking, which was
perhaps, an error, that it might have been avoided ; but
after Buonaparte had violated the independence of Swit-
zerland, my heart turned against him, and against the
nation that could submit to be the instrument of such an
outrage. Here it was that I parted, in feeling, from the
Whigs, and to a certain degree united with their adver-
saries, who were free from the delusion (such I must

24 OPINIONS ON QUESTIONS OF (

ever regard it), of Mr. Fox and his party, that a safe and
honourable peace was practicable with the French nation,
and that an ambitious conqueror like Buonaparte could be
softened down into a commercial rival.

1 In a determination, therefore, to aim at the overthrow
of that inordinate ambition by war, I sided with the minis-
try, not from general approbation of their conduct, but as
men who thought right on this essential point. How deep-
ly this question interested me will be plain to any one who
will take the trouble of reading my political sonnets, and
the tract occasioned by the " Convention of Cintra," in
which are sufficient evidences of my dissatisfaction with
the mode of conducting the war, and a prophetic display
of the course which it would take if carried on upon the
principles of justice, and with due respect for the feelings
of the oppressed nations.

4 This is enough for foreign politics, as influencing my
attachments.

'There are three great domestic questions, viz., the
liberty of the press, parliamentary reform, and Roman
Catholic concession, which, if I briefly advert to, no more
need be said at present.

' A free discussion of public measures through the
press, I deem the only safeguard of liberty : without it I
have neither confidence in kings, parliaments, judges, or
divines : they have all in their turn betrayed their coun-
try. But the press, so potent for good, is scarcely less so
for evil ; and unfortunately they who are misled and
abused by its means are the persons whom it can least
benefit. It is the fatal characteristic of their disease to
reject all remedies coming from the quarter that has
caused or aggravated the malady. I am therefore for
vigorous restrictions ; but there is scarcely any abuse that

DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY. 25

I would not endure rather than sacrifice, or even en-
danger, this freedom.

1 When I was young, (giving myself credit for qualities
which I did not possess, and measuring mankind by that
standard), I thought it derogatory to human nature to set
up property in preference to person as a title for legisla-
tive power. That notion has vanished. I now perceive
many advantages in our present complex system of repre-
sentation which formerly eluded my observation ; this has
tempered my ardour for reform : but if any plan could be
contrived for throwing the representation fairly into the
hands of the property of the country, and not leaving it so
much in the hands of the large proprietors as it now is, it
should have my best support ; though even in that event
there would be a sacrifice of personal rights, independent
of property, that are now frequently exercised for the
benefit of the community.

' Be not startled when I say that I am averse to further
concessions to the Roman Catholics. My reasons are,
that such concessions will not produce harmony among
the Roman Catholics themselves ; that they among them
who are most clamorous for the measure, care little about
it but as a step, first, to the overthrow of the Protestant
establishment in Ireland, as introductory to a separation
of the two countries — their ultimate aim; that I cannot
consent to take the character of a religion from the
declaration of powerful professors of it disclaiming doc-
trines imputed to that religion ; that, taking its character
from what it actually teaches to the great mass, I believe
the Roman Catholic religion to be unchanged in its doc-
trines and unsoftened in its spirit, - how can it be other-
wise unless the doctrine of Infallibility be given up ? that
such concessions would set all other dissenters in motion
— an issue which has never fairly been met by the friends

26 DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN POLICY.

to concession : and deeming the Church Establishment
not only a fundamental part of our constitution, but one
of the greatest upholders and propagators of civilization
in our own country, and, lastly, the most effectual arid
main support of religious Toleration, I cannot but look
with jealousy upon measures which must reduce her
relative influence, unless they be accompanied with
arrangements more adequate than any yet adopted for
the preservation and increase of that influence, to keep
pace with the other powers in the community.

' I do not apologize for this long letter, the substance of
which you may report to any one worthy of a reply, who,
in your hearing, may animadvert upon my political con-
duct. I ought to have added, perhaps, a word on local
politics, but I have not space ; but what I should have
said, may in a great measure be deduced from the above.

4 1 am, my dear L ,

4 Yours, &c. &c.,

1 VV. W.'

CHAPTER XXXIV.

TOUR IN SCOTLAND.

ON the 18th July, 1814, Wordsworth, accompanied by his
wife, and his wife's sister, Miss Sarah Hutchinson, left
Rydal Mount, on a tour in Scotland. The only poems
which appear to have been produced by this tour are the
following :

The Brownie's Cell, suggested by a beautiful ruin on
one of the islands of Loch Lomond.1

Cora Linn? in sight of Wallace's Tower.

Effusion on the banks of the Bran, near Dunkeld*

Sonnet to Mr. Gillies:

1 From the dark chambers of dejection freed.' 4

The travellers dined one day with Mr. Gillies at Edin-
burgh. 4 Mr. G. is nephew of Lord Gillies, the Scotch
Judge, and also of the historian of Greece, and cousin to
Miss Margaret Gillies, who painted so many portraits with
success in our house.' 5

Yarrow Visited.6

This visit was made in company with Dr. Anderson,
the editor of British Poets, and the Ettrick Shepherd.
The party had refreshment at the cottage of the Ettrick

1 Vol. iii. p. 40. * Vol. iii. p. 44. 8 Vol. iii. p. 46.

4 Vol. ii. p. 280. 5 MSS. I. F. 6 Vol. iii. p 50.

28 TOUR IN SCOTLAND.

Shepherd's father, he being a shepherd, a fine old man
more than eighty years of age.

The following records of this tour, in connection with
these poems, are from Mr. Wordsworth's dictation.

SECOND TOUR IN SCOTLAND, 1814.

4 In this tour my wife and her sister Sarah were my
companions. The account of the Brownie* s Cell, and the
Brownies, was given me by a man we met with on the
banks of Loch Lomond, a little above Tarbet, and in front
of a huge mass of rock by the side of which, we were
told,, preachings were often held in the open air. The
place is quite a solitude, and the surrounding scenery very
striking. How much is it to be regretted that, instead of
writing such poems as the " Holy Fair," and others in
which the religious services of his country are treated
with so much levity, and too often with indecency, Burns
had not employed his genius in describing religion under
the serious and affecting aspects it must so frequently
take ! '

Cora Linn. — ' I had seen this celebrated water- fall
twice before. But the feelings to which it had given birth
were not expressed till they recurred in presence of the
object on this occasion.'

Effusion, near Dunkeld. — ' I am not aware that this
condemnatory effusion was ever seen by the owner of the
place. He might be disposed to pay little attention to it ;
but, were it to prove otherwise, I should be glad, for the
whole exhibition is distressingly puerile.'

Yarrow Visited. — ' As mentioned in my verses on the
death of the Ettrick Shepherd, my first visit to Yarrow
was in his company. We had lodged the night before at
Traquhair, where Hogg had joined us, and also Dr. An-

TOUR IN SCOTLAND. 29

derson, the editor of the British Poets, who was on a visit
at the manse. Dr. A. walked with us till we came in
view of the vale of Yarrow, and being advanced in life he
then turned back. The old man was passionately fond of
poetry, though with not much of a discriminating judg-
ment, as the volumes he edited sufficiently show ; but I
was much pleased to meet with him and to acknowledge
my obligation to his collection, which had been my brother
John's companion in more than one voyage to India, and
which he gave me before his departure from Grasmere
never to return. Through these volumes I became first
familiar with Chaucer ; and so little money had I then to
spare for books, that in all probability, but for this same
work, I should have known little of Drayton, Daniel, and
other distinguished poets of the Elizabethan age and their
immediate successors, till a much later period of my life.
I am glad to record this, not for any importance of its
own, but as a tribute of gratitude to this simple-hearted
old man, who I never again had the pleasure of meeting.
I seldom read or think of this poem without regretting
that my dear sister was not of the party, as she would
have had so much delight in recalling the time when,
travelling together in Scotland, we declined going in
search of this celebrated stream, not altogether, I will
frankly confess, for the reasons assigned' in the poem on
the occasion.'

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE EXCURSION.

IN the summer of the year 1814, appeared 'The Excur-
sion,' being a portion of ' The Recluse.'

The following details, derived from the author's conver-
sation, will put the reader in possession of all requisite
knowledge concerning the local and personal references
in this poem, and respecting the occasions on which its
several parts were composed. In perusing these illustra-
tive notices he will bear in mind, that they were not com-
mitted to writing by the author, but were dictated by him
orally to the friend who requested information on the
points to which they advert, and were specially designed
for the gratification of that friend, and of other intimate
associates, especially his daughter, Mrs. Quillinan. —
Hence, they are for the most part narrative, and scarcely
any reference is made in them to the high aims with which
1 The Excursion ' was composed, and which, it is taken
for granted, are already familiar to the reader. These
notices l were dictated twenty-seven years after the poem
was published ; and in the 74th year of the author's age.

The Excursion. — ' Towards the close of the 1st book
stand the lines that were first written, beginning " Nine
tedious years," and ending " last human tenant of these
ruined walls." These were composed in 1795, at Race-

1 From MSS. I. F.

THE EXCURSION. 31

down ; and for several passages describing the employ-
ment and demeanour of Margaret during her affliction, I
am indebted to observations made in Dorsetshire, and
afterwards at Alfoxden, in Somersetshire, where I resided
in 1797 and 1798. The lines towards the conclusion of
the 4th book, " Despondency corrected," beginning " For
the man who in this spirit," to the words " intellectual
soul," were in order of time composed the next, either at
Racedown or Alfoxden, I do not remember which. The
rest of the poem was written in the vale of Grasmere,
chiefly during our residence at Allan Bank. The long
poem on my own education was, together with many
minor poems, composed while we lived at the cottage at
Town-End. Perhaps my purpose of giving an additional
interest to these my poems, in the eyes of my nearest and
dearest friends, may be promoted by saying a few words
upon the character of the " Wanderer," the u Solitary,"
and the " Pastor," and some other of the persons intro-
duced. And first of the principal one, the " Wanderer."
1 My lamented friend Southey (for this is written a
month after his decease) l used to say that had he been a
Papist, the course of life which in all probability would
have been his, was the one for which he was most fitted
and most to his mind, that of a Benedictine Monk, in a
convent, furnished, as many once were, and some still are,
with an inexhaustible library. Books, as appears from
many passages in his writings, and was evident to those
who had opportunities of observing his daily life, were, in
fact, his passion; and wandering I can- with truth affirm,
was mine ; but this propensity in me was happily coun-
teracted by inability from want of fortune to fulfil my
wishes.

1 Which took place in March, 1843.

32 THE EXCURSION.

4 But had I been born in a class which would have
deprived me of what is called a liberal education, it is not
unlikely that, being strong in body, I should have taken
to a way of life such as that in which my " Wanderer "
passed the greater part of his days. At all events, I am
here called upon freely to acknowledge that the character
I have represented in his person is chiefly an idea of
what 1 fancied my own character might have become in
his circumstances.

4 Nevertheless much of what he says and does had an
external existence, that fell under my own youthful and
subsequent observation.

4 An individual named Patrick, by birth and education a
Scotchman, followed this humble occupation for many
years, and afterwards settled in the town of Kendal. He
married a kinswoman of my wife's, and her sister Sarah
spent part of her childhood under this good man's eye.
My own imaginations I was happy to find clothed in
reality, and fresh ones suggested, by what she reported •
of this man's tenderness of heart, his strong and pure
imagination, and his solid attainments in literature, chiefly
religious, whether in prose or verse. At Hawkshead also,
while I was a school-boy, there occasionally resided a
packman (the name then generally given to this calling),
with whom I had frequent conversations upon what had
befallen him, and what he had observed during his wan-
dering life, and, as was natural, we took much to each
other ; and upon the subject of his occupation in general,
as then followed, and its favourableness to an intimate
knowledge of human concerns, not merely among the
humbler classes of society, I need say nothing here in
addition to what is to be found in " The Excursion," and
a note attached to it. l

1 Vol. vi. p. 283.

THE EXCURSION. 33

|

4 Now for the Solitary. Of him I have much less to
say. Not long after we took up our abode at Grasmere,
came to reside there, for what motive 1 either never knew
or have forgotten, a Scotchman, a little past the middle of
life, who had for many years been chaplain to a Highland
regiment. He was in no respect, as far as I know, an
interesting character, though in his appearance there was
a good deal that attracted attention, as if he had been
shattered in fortune, and not happy in mind. Of his
former position I availed myself to connect with the
" Wanderer," also a Scotchman, a character suitable to
my purpose, the elements of which I drew from several
persons with whom I had been connected, and who fell
under my observation during frequent residences in Lon-
don at the beginning of the French Revolution. The
chief of these was, one may now say, a Mr. Fawcett, a
preacher at a dissenting meeting-house at the Old Jewry.
It happened to me several times to be one of his congre-
gation through my connection with Mr. Nicholson of
Cateaton Street, who, at a time when I had not many
acquaintances in London, used often to invite us to dine
with him on Sundays; and I took that opportunity (Mr.
N. being a dissenter) of going to hear Fawcett, who was
an able and eloquent man. He published a poem on
war, which had a good deal of merit, and* made me think
more about him than I should otherwise have done. But
his Christianity was probably never very deeply rooted ;
and, like many others in those times of like showy talents,
he had not strength of character to withstand the effects
of the French Revolution, and of the wild and lax opinions
which had done so much towards producing it, and far
more in carrying it forward in its extremes. Poor Faw-
cett, I have been told, became pretty much such a person
as I have described, and early disappeared from the stage,

VOL. II. 3

34 THE EXCURSION.

/

having fallen into habits of intemperance, which I have
heard (though I will not answer for the fact) hastened his
death. Of him I need say no more. There were many
like him at that time, which the world will never be with-
out, but which were more numerous then, for reasons too
obvious to be dwelt upon.

4 The Pastor. — To what is said of the " Pastor" in the
poem, I have little to add but what may be deemed
superfluous. It has ever appeared to me highly favoura-
ble to the beneficial influence of the Church of England
upon all gradations and classes of society, that the patron-
age of its benefices is in numerous instances attached to

O

the estates of noble families of ancient gentry ; and
accordingly I am gratified by the opportunity afforded
me in " The Excursion," to portray the character of a
country clergyman of more than ordinary talents, born
and bred in the upper ranks of society so as to partake of
their refinements, and at the same time brought by his
pastoral office and his love of rural life into intimate
connection with the peasantry of his native district.

' To illustrate the relation which in my mind this
" Pastor " bore to the " Wanderer," and the resemblances
between them, or rather the points of community in their
nature, I likened one to an oak, and the other to a syca-
more ; and having here referred to this comparison, I
need only add, I had no one individual in my mind,
wishing rather to embody this idea than to break in upon
the simplicity of it by traits of individual character, or of
any peculiarity of opinion.

4 And now for a few words upon the scene where these
interviews and conversations are supposed to occur.

1 The scene of the first book of the poem is, I must
own, laid in a tract of country not sufficiently near to that
which soon comes into view in the second book, to agree

THE EXCURSION. 35

with the fact. All that relates to Margaret, and the
ruined cottage, &,c., was taken from observations made in
the south-west of England, and certainly it would require
more than seven-leagued boots to stretch in one morning
from a common in Somersetshire, or Dorsetshire, to the
heights of Furness Fells, and the deep valleys they em-
bosom. For this dealing with space, I need make, I trust,
no apology.

4 In the poem, I suppose that the Pedlar and I ascended
from a plain country up the vale of Langdale, and struck
off a good way above the chapel to the western side of
the vale ; we ascended the hill, and thence looked down
upon the circular recess in which lies Blea Tarn, chosen
by the "Solitary" for his retreat. When we quit his
cottage, after passing a low ridge, we descend into
another vale, that of Little Langdale, towards the head of
which stands embowered, or partly shaded by yews and
other trees, something between a cottage and a mansion,
or gentleman's house, such as they once were in this
country. This I convert into the parsonage, and at the
same time, and as by the waving of a magic wand, I turn
the comparatively confined vale of Langdale, its tarn, and
the rude chapel which once adorned the valley, into the
stately and comparatively spacious vale of Grasrnere and
its ancient parish church ; and upon the side of Loughrigg
Fell, at the foot of the lake, and looking down upon it
and the whole vale and its accompanying mountains, the
" Pastor" is supposed by me to stand, when at sunset he
addresses his companions in words which I hope my
readers may remember,1 or I should not have taken the
trouble of giving so much in detail the materials on which
my mind actually worked.

1 Excursion ; book the last, near the conclusion.

36 THE EXCURSION.

' Now for a few particulars of fact, respecting the per-
sons whose stories are told or characters described by the
different speakers. To Margaret I have already alluded.
I will add here that the lines beginning,

" She was a woman of a steady mind,"

and,

"Live on earth a life of happiness,"

faithfully delineate, as far as they go, the character pos-
sessed in common by many women whom it has been my
happiness to know in humble life ; and that several of the
most touching things which she is represented as saying
and doing are taken from actual observation of the dis-
tresses and trials under which different persons were
suffering, some of them strangers to me, and others daily
under my notice.

4 1 was born too late to have a distinct remembrance of
the origin of the American war ; but the state in which I
represent Robert's mind to be, 1 had frequent opportuni-
ties of observing at the commencement of our rupture
with France in 1793 ; opportunities of which I availed
myself in the story of the " Female Vagrant," as told in
the poem on " Guilt and Sorrow." The account given by
the " Solitary," towards the close of the second book, in
all that belongs to the character of the old man, was taken
from a Grasmere pauper, who was boarded in the last
house quitting the vale on the road to Ambleside ; the
character of his hostess, and all that befel the poor man
upon the mountain, belongs to Paterdale. The woman I
knew well ; her name was Ruth Jackson, and she was
exactly such a person as I describe. The ruins of the old
chapel, among which the old man was found lying, may
yet be traced, and stood upon the ridge that divides Pater-
dale from Boardale and Martindale, having been placed

THE EXCURSION. 37

there for the convenience of both districts. The glorious
appearance disclosed above and among the mountains,
was described partly from what my friend Mr. Luff, who
then lived in Paterdale, witnessed upon this melancholy
occasion, and partly from what Mrs. Wordsworth and I
had seen, in company with Sir G. and Lady Beaumont,
above Hartshope Hall, in our way from Paterdale to
Ambleside.

4 And now for a few words upon the church, its monu-
ments, and of the deceased who are spoken of as lying
in the surrounding churchyard. But first for the one
picture given by the u Wanderer " of the living. In this
nothing is introduced but what was taken from nature, and
real life. The cottage was called Hackett, and stands, as
described, on the southern extremity of the ridge which
separates the two Langdales. The pair who inhabited it
were called Jonathan and Betty Yewdale. Once when
our children were ill, of whooping-cough I think, we took
them for change of air to this cottage, and were in the
habit of going there to drink tea upon fine summer after-
noons; so that we became intimately acquainted with the
characters, habits, and lives of these good, and let me say,
in the main, wise people. The matron had, in her early
youth, been a servant in a house at Hawkshead, where
several boys boarded, while I was a schpol-boy there. I
did not remember her as having served in that capacity ;
but we had many little anecdotes to tell to each other of
remarkable boys, incidents, and adventures, which had
made a noise in their day in that small town. These two
persons afterwards settled at Rydal, where they both
died.*

* [One of the posthumous volumes of ' The Doctor' gives other
particulars respecting this pair, and a story told by Betty Yewdale

38 THE EXCURSION.

' Church and Churchyard. — The church already no-
ticed, is that of Grasmere. The interior of it has been
improved lately — made warmer by underdrawing the
roof, and raising the floor ; but the rude and antique
majesty of its former appearance has been impaired by
painting the rafters ; and the oak benches, with a simple
rail at the back dividing them from each other, have given
way to seats that have more the appearance of pews. It
is remarkable that, excepting only the pew belonging to
Rydal Hall, that to Rydal Mount, the one to the parson-
age, and, I believe, another, the men and women still
continue, as used to be the custom in Wales, to sit on
separate sides of the church from each other. Is this
practice as old as the Reformation ? and when and how
did it originate ? In the Jewish synagogues, and in Lady
Huntingdon's chapels, the sexes are divided in the same
way. In the adjoining churchyard greater changes have
taken place ; it is now not a little crowded with tomb-
stones; and near the school-house, which stands in the
churchyard, is an ugly structure, built to receive the
hearse, which is recently come into use. It would not be
worth while to allude to this building, or the hearse-vehicle
it contains, but that the latter has been the means of in-

herself, of which the editor, the Rev. John Wood Warter, South-
ey's son-in-law, gives the following account in a note to ' Inter-
chapter xxiv : '

'Miss Sarah Hutchinson, Mrs. Wordsworth's sister, and Mrs.
Warter took down the story from the old woman's lips, and
Southey laid it by for « The Doctor, etc." She then lived in a
cottage at Rydal, where I afterwards saw her. Of the old man
it was told me — (for I did not see him) — « He is a perfect
picture — like those we meet with in the better copies of Saints
in our old Prayer Books." ' < The Doctor, etc.' Vol vn p 94 —
H.R.]

THE EXCURSION. 39

troducing a change much to be lamented in the mode of
conducting funerals among the mountains. Now, the
coffin is lodged in the hearse at the door of the house of
the deceased, and the corpse is so conveyed to the
churchyard gate. All the solemnity which formerly at-
tended its progress, as described in this poem, is put an
end to. So much do I regret this, that I beg to be excused
for giving utterance here to a wish that, should it befal
me to die at Rydal Mount, my own body may be carried
to Grasmere Church after the manner in which, till lately,
that of every one was borne to the place of sepulchre,
namely, on the shoulders of neighbours ; no house being
passed without some words of a funeral psalm being sung
at the time by the attendants bearing it. When I put into
the mouth of the "Wanderer" "Many precious sights
and customs of our rural ancestry are gone, or stealing
from us," " this, I hope, will last for ever," and what fol-
lows, little did I foresee that the observance and mode of
proceeding which had often affected me so much would
so soon be superseded.

4 Having said much of the injury done to this church-
yard, let me add, that one is at liberty to look forward to
a time when, by the growth of the yew-trees thriving
there, a solemnity will be spread over the place that will
in some degree make amends for the olcl simple character
which has already been so much encroached upon, and
will be still more every year. I will here set down, by
way of memorial, that my friend Sir G. Beaumont, having
long ago purchased the beautiful piece of water called
Loughrigg Tarn, on the banks of which he intended to
build, I told him that a person in Kendal who was attached
to the place wished to purchase it. Sir George, finding
the possession of no use to him, consented to part with it,
and placed the purchase-money, 20/. at my disposal, for

40 THE EXCURSION.

any local use which I thought proper. Accordingly, I re-
solved to plant yew-trees in the churchyard ; and had four
pretty strong large oak enclosures made, in each of which
was planted under my own eye, and principally, if not
entirely, by my own hand, two young trees, with the in-
tention of leaving the one that throve best to stand. Many
years after, Mr. Barber, who will long be remembered in
Grasmere, Mr. Greenwood (the chief landed proprietor),
and myself, had four other enclosures made in the church-
yard at our own expense, in each of which was planted a
tree taken from its neighbour, and they all stand thriving
admirably, the fences having been removed as no longer
necessary. May the trees be taken care of hereafter,
when we are all gone ; and some of them will perhaps, at
some far distant time, rival the majesty of the yew at
Lorton, and those which I have described as growing at
Borrowdale, where they are still to be seen in grand
assemblage.

4 And now for the persons that are selected as lying
in the churchyard. But first for the individual whose
grave is prepared to receive him.

' His story is here truly related. He was a school-
fellow of mine for some years. He came to us when he
was at least seventeen years of age, very tall, robust, and
full grown. This prevented him from falling into the
amusements and games of the school ; consequently, he
gave more time to books. He was not remarkably bright
or quick, but, by industry, he made a progress more than
respectable. His parents not being wealthy enough to
send him to college when he left Hawkshead, he became
a schoolmaster, with a view to preparing himself for holy
orders. About this time he fell in love, as related in the
poem, and everything followed as there, described, ex-
cept that I do not know exactly when and where he died.

THE EXCURSION. 41

The number of youths that came to Hawkshead school
from the families of the humble yeomanry, to be educated
to a certain degree of scholarship, as a preparation for
the church, was^considerable ; and the fortunes of those
persons in after life various of course, and of some not a
little remarkable.

4 The miner, next described as having found his trea-
sure after twice ten years of labour, lived in Paterdale, and
the story is true to the letter. It seems to me, however,
rather remarkable, that the strength of mind which had
supported him through this long unrewarded labour, did not
enable him to bear its successful issue. Several times in
the course of my life I have heard of sudden influxes of
great wealth being followed by derangement ; and, in one
instance, the shock of good fortune was so great as to
produce absolute idiotcy. But these all happeneo^ where
there had been little or no previous effort to acquire the
riches, and therefore such a consequence might the more
naturally be expected, than in the case of the solitary
miner. In reviewing his story, one cannot but regret that
such perseverance was not sustained, by a worthier object.
Archimedes leaped out of his bath and ran about the
streets, proclaiming his discovery in a transport of joy ;
but we are not told that he lost either his life or his senses
in consequence. ^y^'

4 The next character, to whom the priest is led by con-
trast with the resoluteness displayed by the foregoing, is
taken from a person born and bred in Grasmere, by name
Dawson, and whose talents, dispositions, and way of life,
were such as are here delineated. I did not know him,
but all was fresh in memory when we settled at Grasmere
in the beginning of the century. From this point the con-
versation leads to the mention of two individuals, who by
their several fortunes were, at different times, drwen to

42 THE EXCURSION.

take refuge at the small and obscure town of Hawkshead,
on the skirt of these mountains. Their stories I had from
the dear old dame with whom, as a school-boy, and after-
wards, I lodged for the space of nearly ten years. The
elder, the Jacobite, was named Drummond, and was of a
high family in Scotland ; the Hanoverian Whig bore the
name of Vandeput, 1 and might, perhaps, be the descen-
dant of some Dutchman who had come over in the train
of King William. At all events, his zeal was such, that
he ruined himself by a contest for the representation of
London or Westminster, undertaken to support his party,
and retired to this corner of the world, selected as it had
been by Drummond for that obscurity which, since visit-
ing the Lakes became fashionable, it has no longer
retained. So much was this region considered out of the
way tilj, a late period, that persons who had fled from
justice used often to resort thither for concealment, and
some were so bold, as not unfrequently to make excur-
sions from the place of their retreat for the purpose of
committing fresh offences. Such was particularly the
case with two brothers of the name of Weston, who took
up their abode at Old Brathay, I think about seventy years
ago. They were highwaymen, and lived there some time
without being discovered, though it was known that they
often disappeared, in a way, and upon errands, which
could not be accounted for. Their horses were noticed as
being of a choice breed, and I have heard from the Relph
family, one of whom was a saddler in the town of Kendal,
that they were curious in their saddles, and housings, and
accoutrements of their horses. They, as I have heard,
and as was universally believed, were, in the end, both
taken and hanged.

4 Tall was her stature, her complexion dark, and satur-

1 Sir George Vandeput.

THE EXCURSION. 43

nine. — This person lived at Town-End, and was almost
our next neighbour. I have little to notice concerning her
beyond what is said in the poem. She was a most strik-
ing instance how far a woman may surpass in talent, in
knowledge, and culture of mind, those with and among
whom she lives, and yet fall below them in Christian vir-
tues of the heart and spirit. It seemed almost, and I say
it with grief, that in proportion as she excelled in the one,
she failed in the other. How frequently has one to observe
in both sexes the same thing, and how mortifying is the
reflection !

1 As on a sunny bank the tender lamb. — The story that
follows was told to Mrs. Wordsworth and my sister, by the
sister of this unhappy young woman. Every particular
was exactly as I have related. The party was not known
to me, though she lived at Hawkshead ; but it was after I
left school. The clergyman who administered comfort to
her in her distress T knew well. Her sister, who told the
story, was the wife of a leading yeoman in the vale of
Grasmere, and they were an affectionate pair and greatly
respected by every one who knew them. Neither lived to be
old ; and their estate, which was, perhaps, the most con-
siderable then in the vale, and was endeared to them by
many remembrances of a salutary character, not easily
understood or sympathized with by those who are born to
great affluence, passed to their eldest son, according to the
practice of these vales, who died soon after he came into
possession. He was an amiable and promising youth, but
was succeeded by an only brother, a good-natured man,
who fell into habits of drinking, by which he gradually
reduced his property, and the other day the last acre of it
was sold, and his wife and children, and he himself still
surviving, have very little left to live upon ; which it
would not, perhaps, have been worth while to record here,

44 THE EXCURSION.

but that through all trials this woman has proved a model
of patience, meekness, affectionate forbearance, and for-
giveness. Their eldest son, who through the vices of his
father has thus been robbed of an ancient family inherit-
ance, was never heard to murmur or complain against the
cause of their distress, and is now deservedly the chief
prop of his mother's hope.

4 BOOK VII. — The clergyman and his family described
at the beginning of this book were, during many years,
our principal associates in the vale of Grasmere, unless I
were to except our very nearest neighbours. 1 have
entered so particularly into the main points of their his-
tory, that I will barely testify in prose that (with the
single exception of the particulars of their journey to
Grasmere, which, however, was exactly copied from real
life) the whole that I have said of them is as faithful to
the truth as words can make it. There was much talent
in the family, and the eldest son was distinguished for
poetical talent, of which a specimen is given in my Notes
to the Sonnets on the Duddon. Once, when in our cottage
at Town-End, I was talking with him about poetry. In the
course of our conversation I presumed to find fault with
the versification of Pope, of whom he was an enthusiastic
admirer. He defended him with a warmth that indicated
much irritation ; nevertheless I would not abandon my
point, and said, " In compass and variety of sound your
own versification surpasses his." Never shall I forget the
change in his countenance and tone of voice : the storm
was laid in a moment, he no longer disputed my judgment,
and I passed immediately in his mind, no doubt, for as
great a critic as ever lived. I ought to add, he was a cler-
gyman and a well-educated man, and his verbal memory
was the most remarkable of any individual I have known,
except a Mr. Archer, an Irishman, who lived several years

THE EXCURSION. 45

in this neighbourhood, and who in this faculty was a
prodigy : he afterwards became deranged, and I fear
continues so if alive.

4 Then follows the character of Robert Walker, for
which see Notes to the Duddon.

4 Next that of the Deaf Man, whose epitaph may be
seen in the churchyard at the head of Hawes- Water, and
whose qualities of mind and heart, and their benign in-
fluence in conjunction with his privation, I had from his
relatives on the spot.

4 The Blind Man, next commemorated, was John
Gough, of Kendal, a man known, far beyond his neigh-
bourhood, for his talents and attainments in natural history
and science.

' Of the Infants' Grave next noticed, I will only say,
it is an exact picture of what fell under my own observa-
tion ; and all persons who are intimately acquainted with
cottage life must often have observed like instances of the
working of the domestic affections.

4 A volley twice repeated. — This young volunteer bore
the name of Dawson, and was younger brother, if I am
not mistaken, to the prodigal of whose character and for-
tunes an account is given towards the beginning of the
preceding book. The father of the family I knew well ;
he was a man of literary education and, considerable ex-
perience in society, much beyond what was common
among the inhabitants of the Vale. He had lived a good
while in the Highlands of Scotland as a manager of iron-
works at Bunaw, and had acted as clerk to one of my
predecessors in the office of distributor of stamps, when
he used to travel round the country collecting and bring-
ing home the money due to Government in gold, which it
may be worth while to mention, for the sake of my
friends, was deposited in the cell or iron closet under the

46 THE EXCURSION.

west window, which still exists, with the iron doors that
guarded the property. This, of course, was before the
time of bills and notes. The two sons of this person had
no doubt been led by the knowledge of their father to
take more delight in scholarship, and had been ac-
customed, in their own minds, to take a wider view of
social interests, than was usual among their associates.
The premature death of this gallant young man was much
lamented, and as an attendant upon the funeral, I myself
witnessed the ceremony, and the effect of it as described
in the poems, " Tradition tells that in Eliza's golden
days," " A knight came on a war-horse," " The house is
gone." The pillars of the gateway in front of the man-
sion remained when we first took up our abode at Gras-
mere. Two or three cottages still remain, which are
called Knott Houses, from the name of the gentleman (I
have called him a knight) concerning whom these tra-
ditions survive. He was the ancestor of the Knott family,
formerly considerable proprietors in the district. What
follows in the discourse of the " Wanderer," upon the
changes he had witnessed in rural life by the introduction
of machinery, is truly described from what I myself saw
during my boyhood and early youth, and from what was
often told me by persons of this humble calling. Happily,
most happily, for these mountains, the mischief was
diverted from the banks of their beautiful streams, and
transferred to open and flat counties abounding in coal,
where the agency of steam was found much more effect-
ual for carrying on those demoralizing works. Had it not
been for this invention, long before the present time, every
torrent and river in this district would have had its factory,
large and populous in proportion to the power of the water
that could there be commanded. Parliament has inter-
fered to prevent the night-work which was carried on in

THE EXCURSION. 47

these mills as actively as during the day-time, and by
necessity, still more perniciously ; a great disgrace to the
proprietors and to the nation which could so long tolerate
such unnatural proceedings.

4 Reviewing, at this late period, 1843, what I put into
the mouths of my interlocutors a few years after the com-
mencement of the century, I grieve that so little progress
has been made in diminishing the evils deplored, or pro-
moting the benefits of education which the " Wanderer "
anticipates. The results of Lord Ashley's labours to defer
the time when children might legally be allowed to work
in factories, and his endeavours to limit still further the
hours of permitted labour, have fallen far short of his own
humane wishes, and of those of every benevolent and
right-minded man who has carefully attended to this sub-
ject; and in the present session of Parliament (1843) Sir
James Graham's attempt to establish a course of religious
education among the children employed in factories has
been abandoned, in consequence of what might easily
have been foreseen, the vehement and turbulent opposi-
tion of the Dissenters ; so that, for many years to come,
it may be thought expedient to leave the religious instruc-
tion of children entirely in the hands of the several de-
nominations of Christians in the Island, each body to
work according to its own means and, in its own way.
Such is my own confidence, a confidence I share with
many others of my most valued friends, in the superior
advantages, both religious and social, which attend a
course of instruction presided over apd guided by the
clergy of the Church of England, that I have no doubt,
that if but once its members, lay and clerical, were duly
sensible of those benefits, their Church would daily gain
ground, and rapidly, upon every shape and fashion of
dissent ; and in that case, a great majority in Parliament

48 THE EXCURSION.

being sensible of these benefits, the ministers of the coun-
try might be emboldened, were it necessary, to apply
funds of the state to the support of education on church
principles. Before I conclude, I cannot forbear noticing
the strenuous efforts made at this time in Parliament by
so many persons to extend manufacturing and commercial
industry at the expense of agricultural, though we have
recently had abundant proofs that the apprehensions ex-
pressed by the " Wanderer " were not groundless.

" I spake of mischief by the wise diffused,
With gladness thinking that the more it spreads
The healthier, the securer we become ;
Delusion which a moment may destroy! "

' The Chartists are well aware of this possibility, and
cling to it with an ardour and perseverance which nothing
but wiser and more brotherly dealing towards the many
on the part of the wealthy few can moderate or remove.

4 BOOK IX., towards conclusion.

11 While from the grassy mountain's open side
We gazed."

4 The point here fixed upon in my imagination is half
way up the northern side of Loughrigg Fell, from which
the "Pastor" and his companions are supposed to look
upwards to the sky and mountain-tops, and round the
vale, with the lake lying immediately beneath them.

" But turned, not without welcome promise given
That he would share the pleasures and pursuits
Of yet another summer's day."

When I reported this promise of the " Solitary," and long
after, it was my wish, and I might say intention, that we
should resume our wanderings and pass the borders into
his native country, where, as I hoped, he might witness,

THE EXCURSION. 49

in the society of the " Wanderer," some religious cere-
mony — a sacrament say, in the open fields, or a preach-
ing among the mountains, which, by recalling to his mind
the days of his early childhood, when he had been present
on such occasions in company with his parents and nearest
kindred, might have dissolved his heart into tenderness,
and so done more towards restoring the Christian faith in
which he had been educated, and, with that contentedness
and even cheerfulness of mind, and all that the " Wan-
derer " and " Pastor " by their several effusions and ad-
dresses had been unable to effect. An issue like this was
in my intentions, but alas !

" mid the wreck of is and was,
Things incomplete and purposes betrayed
Make sadder transits o'er thought's optic glass
Than noblest objects utterly decayed." '

Such were Mr. Wordsworth's illustrative notices of
4 THE EXCURSION.'

It is no part of the plan of these Memoirs to refer to the
criticisms of those who reviewed 'The Excursion,' or
any other of the poems of Wordsworth on their first
appearance. Abundant information on this subject will
be found in other publications.1 It is not so surprising
that ' The Excursion ' should have been censured by
many critics, as that no leading Aristafch of the day
should have appeared to be disposed to claim for it or
concede to it that place which it has now attained in the
literature of England. But the expressions of condem-
nation which fell from the pens of the -most celebrated

1 See, for example, Coleridge's Biogr. Literaria, vol. ii. p. 115,
141, 150, 170 ; Edin. Rev. Nov. 1814, Oct. 1815 j Southey's Life
and Correspondence, vol. iv. p. 195 j C. Lamb's Final Memorials,
vol. i. p. 202, 214, 216.

VOL. II. 4

50 THE EXCURSION.

reviewers of the day, who doomed i The Excursion ' to
oblivion, are now only to be remembered as warnings
against rash judgment, and as cautions against confident
reliance on contemporary opinions. It is a remarkable
fact, that the English public was content with a single
edition of ' The Excursion,' consisting only of 500
copies, for six years. Another edition, also limited to
500 copies, was published in 1827, and satisfied the
popular demand for seven years. How many thousands
of copies of poems, which are now forgotten, were pur-
chased in that time. Another main point to be recollected
in this chapter of literary history is the serene equanimity
and indomitable perseverance of him who was the object
of the censure of popular periodicals. After adverting to
certain reviews of ' The Excursion,' he says, in a letter
to Southey, ' Let the age continue to love its own dark-
ness ; I shall continue to write, with, I trust, the light of
Heaven upon me.'

Another fact, also worthy of record, is this. Some of
Wordsworth's poetical brethren, to their honour be it
spoken, felt keenly for the wrong which was done him. It
extorted from Southey the well known saying, uttered on
hearing that a certain celebrated critic was boasting that
he had ' crushed " The Excursion." ' ' He crush " The
Excursion ! " Tell him he might as well fancy that he
could crush Skiddaw. ' l And the amiable Mr. Bernard
Barton addressed some verses to Wordsworth, expressing
his own admiration unabated by the strictures of the
reviewers. Poets are said to be a c genus irritabile,'

1 See also Southey's Letter to Sir "Walter Scott j Southey's
Correspondence, vol. iv. p. 97. [In the Preface to <• Roderick ' in
the collective edition of Southey's Poetical Works, Vol. ix. p. 20,
will be found the animated account which, in 1838 — more than
twenty years after — Southey gave of his ( saying.' — H. E.]

THE EXCURSION. 51

and to be jealous of one another's fame. But these are
two noble examples to the contrary. Wordsworth replied
to Bernard Barton's tribute of veneration in the following
letter :

' Rydal Mount, near Ambleside,

Jan. 12, 1816.
4 Dear Sir,

' Though my sister, during my absence, has returned
thanks in my name for the verses which you have done
me the honour of addressing to me, and for the obliging
letter which accompanies them, I feel it incumbent on me,
on my return home, to write a few words to the same
purpose, with my own hand.

4 It is always a satisfaction to me to learn that I have
given pleasure upon rational grounds ; and I have nothing
to object to your poetical panegyric but the occasion which
called it forth. An admirer of my works, zealous as you
have declared yourself to be, condescends too much when

he gives way to an impulse proceeding from the ,

or indeed from any other Review. The writers in these
publications, while they prosecute their inglorious employ-
ment, cannot be supposed to be in a state of mind very
favourable for being affected by the finer influences of a
thing so pure as genuine poetry ; and as to the instance
which has incited you to offer me this tribute of your
gratitude, though I have not seen it, I doubt not but that it
is a splenetic effusion of the conductor of that .Review,
who has taken a perpetual retainer from his own inca-
pacity to plead against my claims to public approbation.*

* I differ from you in thinking that the only poetical

* [Mr. Walter Savage Landor, in one of those productions
which have displayed a mastery in Latin prose and verse like that
in his own language — after reprobating the class of critics here
alluded to, thus goes on to apostrophize Wordsworth : — ' At qui-

52 THE EXCURSION.

lines in your address are " stolen from myself." The
best verse, perhaps, is the following :

' Awfully mighty in his impotence,'

which, by way of repayment, I may be tempted to steal
from you on some future occasion.

4 It pleases, though it does not surprise me, to learn
that, having been affected early in life by my verses, you
have returned again to your old loves after some little
infidelities, which you were shamed into by commerce
with the scribbling and chattering part of the world. I
have heard of many who, upon their first acquaintance
with my poetry, have had much to get over before they
could thoroughly relish it ; but never of one who, having
once learned to enjoy it, had ceased to value it, or sur-
vived his admiration. This is as good an external assur-
ance as I can desire, that my inspiration is from a pure
source, and that my principles of composition are trust-
worthy.

4 With many thanks for your good wishes, and begging
leave to offer mine in return,

4 1 remain, dear sir,

4 Respectfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

' Bernard Barton, Esq.

Woodbridge, Suffolk?

bus ego te vocibus compellem, vir, civis, philosophe, poeta, praes-
tantissime ! qui sseculum nostrum ut nullo priore minus gloriosum
sit effeceris ; quern nee domicilium longinquum, nee vita sanctis-
sima, neque optimorum voluntas, charitas, propensio, neque homi-
num fere universorum reverentia, inviolatum conservavit ; cujus
sepulchrum, si mortuus esses anteaquam nascerentur, ut voti rei
inviserent, et laudi sibi magnae ducerent vel aspici vel credi ibidem
ingemiscere.' — ' De Cultu Atque Usu Latini Sermonis. Pisis,
MDCCCXX.' P. 215. — H. R.]

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE, OR, THE FATE OF THE
NORTONS. THANKSGIVING ODE.

THE 'White Doe of Rylstone' was published in 1815,*
with a dedication by the author to his wife.t ' The earlier

* [In the early part of the same year was published an edition
of the Miscellaneous Poems, bearing the title ' POEMS BY WILLIAM
WORDSWORH, including Lyrical Ballads, and the Miscellaneous
Pieces of the Author, with Additional Poems, a new Preface, and
a supplementary Essay. In Two Volumes (8vo.) London, 1815.'
Each volume is illustrated with an engraving from a picture by
Sir George Beaumont, — the first a picture of the home of ' Lucy
Gray ' ; the second of ' Peele Castle, in a Storm/ (see ' Elegiac
Stanzas,' Vol. v. p. 126.) The dedication of these volumes to Sir
George Beaumont is dated 'February 1, 1815' : — the dedication
of ' The White Doe of Rylstone ' is dated < April 20, 1815.' — H. R.]

f [It was published in a quarto volume, illustrated with an
engraving from a landscape-painting by the author's friend, Sir
George Beaumont. The origin of the poem was stated in this
prefatory ' Advertisement ' :

' During the summer of 1807, the Author visited, for the first
time, the beautiful scenery that surrounds Bolton Priory, in York-
shire ; and the poem of The White Doe, founded upon a tradition
connected with the place, was composed at the close of the same
year.'

The poem was shown, early in 1808, to Southey, who, in a
letter to Walter Scott, dated 'Keswick, Feb. 11, 1808,' says, —
' Wordsworth has completed a most masterly poem upon the fate
of the Nortons j two or three lines in the old ballad of the Rising

54 THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE.

half of this poem,' said Mr. Wordsworth,1 ' was composed
at Stockton-upon-Tees, when Mary and I were on a visit
to her eldest brother, Mr. Hutchinson, at the close of the
year 1807. The country is flat, and the weather was
rough. I was accustomed every day to walk to and fro
under the shelter of a row of stacks, in a field at a small
distance from the town, and there poured forth my verses
aloud, as freely as they would come.

' When, from the visit just mentioned, we returned to
Town-End, Grasmere, I proceeded with the poem.'

Mr. Wordsworth here mentioned, oliter , that in his
walks at this time he received a wound in his foot ; ' and
though,' he added, ' I desisted from walking, I found that
the irritation of the wounded part was kept up by the act
of composition, to a degree that made it necessary to give
my constitution a holiday. A rapid cure was the conse-
quence.

1 Poetic excitement, when accompanied by protracted
labour in composition, has throughout my life brought on
more or less bodily derangement. Nevertheless I am, at
the close of my seventy-third year, in what may be called
excellent health. So that intellectual labour is not, neces-
sarily, unfavourable to longevity. But perhaps I ought

in the North gave him the hint. The story affected me more
deeply than I wish to be affected j younger readers, however, will
not object to the depth of the distress, — and nothing was ever
more ably treated. He is looking, too, for a narrative subject, to
be pitched in a lower key. I have recommended to him that part
of Amadis wherein he appears as Beltenebros, — which is what
Bernardo Tasso had originally chosen, and which is in itself as
complete as could be desired.' Southey's Life and Correspond-
ence, Vol. in. Chap. xiv. p. 131.— H. R.]

1 MSS. I. F.

THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE. 55

here to add, that mine has been generally carried on out
of doors. /

* Let me here say a few words of this poem, by way of
criticism. The subject being taken from feudal times has
led to its being compared to some of Walter Scott's
poems, that belong to the same age and state of society.
The comparison is inconsiderate. Sir Walter pursued the
customary and very natural course of conducting an ac-
tion, presenting various turns of fortune, to some outstand-
ing point on which the mind might rest as a termination or
catastrophe. The course I attempted to pursue is en-
tirely different. Everything that is attempted by the prin-
cipal personages in the " White Doe," fails, so far as its
object is external and substantial : so far as it is moral and
spiritual, it succeeds. The heroine of the poem knows
that her duty is not to interfere with the current of events,
either to forward or delay them ; but —

" To abide

The shock, and finally secure
O'er pain and grief a triumph pure."

This she does in obedience to her brother's injunction, as
most suitable to a mind and character that, under previous
trials, had been proved to accord with his. She achieves
this, not without aid from the communication with the in-
ferior creature, which often leads her thoughts to revolve
upon the past with a tender and humanizing influence that
exalts rather than depresses her.* The anticipated beati-
fication, if I may so say, of her mind, and the apotheosis
of the companion of her solitude, are the points at which

* [See the motto to this poem — Lord Bacon's wise sentences
on the degrading effects of atheism, with the illustration taken
from the relation in which man stands, as a ' Melior Natura,' to
the inferior creatures. — H. n.

56 THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE.

the poem aims, and constitute its legitimate catastrophe ;
far too spiritual a one for instant or widely spread sym-
pathy, but not therefore the less fitted to make a deep and
permanent impression upon that class of minds, who think
and feel more independently than the many do of the sur-
faces of things and interests transitory, because belonging
more to the outward and social forms of life than to its
internal spirit.

' How insignificant a thing, for example, does personal
prowess appear, compared with the fortitude of patience
and heroic martyrdom ; in other words, with struggles for
the sake of principle, in preference to victory gloried in
for its own sake ! ' *

To these remarks may be added the following, in a

* [The following prefatory lines were introduced in the poem in
the edition of the Poetical Works of 1836-7 ; the six first lines
had been written many years before in ' The Borderers ' (Act m.
last scene) where they also appear :

' Action is transitory — a step, a blow,
The motion of a muscle — this way or that —
'T is done j and in the after-vacancy
We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed :
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,
And has the nature of infinity.
Yet through that darkness (infinite though it seem
And irremoveable) gracious openings lie,
By which the soul — with patient steps of thought

Now toiling, wafted now on wings of prayer

May pass in hope, and, though from mortal bonds

Yet undelivered, rise with sure ascent

Even to the fountain-head of peace divine. M. s.'

In the first edition of < The White Doe,' the sonnet beginning,
' Weak is the will of man, his judgment blind ' (now one of the
< Miscellaneous Sonnets '), stood as prefatory lines. — H. R.]

THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE. 57

letter from the writer to his friend Archdeacon Wrang-
ham :

' Thanksgiving Day, Jan. 1816.
Rydal Mount.

c My dear Wrangham,

1 You have given me an additional mark of that friendly
disposition, and those affectionate feelings which I have
long known you to possess, by writing to me after my long
and unjustifiable silence.

* Of " The White Doe " I have little to say, but that I
hope it will be acceptable to the intelligent, for whom
alone it is written. It starts from a high point of imagina-
tion, and comes round, through various wanderings of that
faculty, to a still higher — nothing less than the apotheosis
of the animal who gives the first of the two titles to the
poem. And as the poem thus begins and ends with pure
and lofty imagination, every motive and impetus that
actuates the persons introduced is from the same source ;
a kindred spirit pervades, and is intended to harmonize
the whole. Throughout, objects (the banner, for instance)
derive their influence, not from properties inherent in
them, not from what they are actually in themselves, but
from such as are bestowed upon them by the minds of
those who are conversant with or affected by those objects.
Thus the poetry, if there be any in the work, proceeds, as
it ought to do, from the soul of man, communicating its
creative energies to the images of the external world.
But, too much of this.

4 Most faithfully yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The letter just quoted was written on the Day of general

58 THANKSGIVING ODE.

Thanksgiving for the successful termination of the war,
in 1816.

This national festival was hailed by him in a lyrical
effusion,1 which presents a happy contrast to that state of
feeling described by him in i The Prelude,' as having
formerly existed in his mind ; which, after the declaration
of war with France, was not in sympathy with the policy
of his own country, and

' When, in the congregation bending all
To their great Father, prayers were offered up,
Or praises for our country's victories ;
And, 'mid the simple worshippers, perchance
7 only, like an uninvited guest
Whom no one owned, sate silent — shall I add,
Fed on the day of vengeance yet to come ? ' 2

How different from this is the following language, in
the c Thanksgiving Ode,'

' Bless Thou the hour, or ere the hour arrive,
When a whole people shall kneel down in prayer,
And, at one moment, in one rapture, strive
With lip and heart to tell their gratitude

For thy protecting care,
Their solemn joy — praising the Eternal Lord

For tyranny subdued,
And for the sway of equity renewed,
For Liberty confirmed, and peace restored ! '

He thus speaks of the ' Thanksgiving Ode,'3 January
18th, 1816 :

Thanksgiving Ode, 1816.4* — 'The first stanza of

1 Vol. iii. p. 102. 2 Prelude, p. 279.

3 Ibid. 4 Mss L F

* [The title of this publication, which was in pamphlet, is
1 Thanksgiving Ode, January 18, 1816, with other short Pieces,

THANKSGIVING ODE. 5iJ

this ode was composed, almost extempore, in front of
Rydal Mount, before church-time, and on such a morning,
and with precisely such objects before my eyes, as are
here described. The view taken of Napoleon's character
and proceedings is little in accordance with that taken by
some historians and critical philosophers. I am glad and
proud of the difference ; and trust that this series of
poems, infinitely below the subject as they are, will sur-
vive to counteract in unsophisticated minds the pernicious
and degrading tendency of those views and doctrines that
lead to idolatry of power as power, and, in that false
splendour, to lose sight of its real nature and constitution,
as it often acts for the gratification of its possessor, without
reference to a beneficial end ; an infirmity that has char-
acterized men of all ages, classes, and employments, since
Nimrod became a mighty hunter before the Lord.'1 J *

Concerning the same subject, he writes to his friend,
the Poet Laureate, referring at the same time to certain
criticisms on 4 The White Doe.'

chiefly referring to recent public events, by William Wordsworth.
London, 1816 : ' — and a prefatory advertisement states that it
'may be considered as a sequel to the author's " Sonnets to Li-
berty." ' H. R.]

* [See also on this subject the Sonnet, in the series ' dedicated
to National Independence and Liberty,' beginning, « Here pause :
the poet claims at least this praise,' and containing that high
moral aspiration, —

1 Never may from our souls one truth depart —
That an accursed thing it is to gaze
On prosperous tyrants with a dazzled eye.'

Vol. iii. p. 86. — H. R.]

1 Gen. x. 9.

60 THANKSGIVING ODE.

< 1816.

' My dear Southey.

' I am much of your mind in respect to my Ode. Had
it been a hymn, uttering the sentiments of a multitude, a
stanza would have been indispensable. But though I have
called it a " Thanksgiving Ode," strictly speaking, it is
not so, but a poem, composed, or supposed to be composed,
on the morning of the thanksgiving, uttering the senti-
ments of an individual upon that occasion. It is a dra-
matized ejaculation ; and this, if anything can, must
excuse the irregular frame of the metre. In respect to a
stanza for a grand subject designed to be treated compre-
hensively, there are great objections. If the stanza be
short, it will scarcely allow of fervour and impetuosity,
unless so short, as that the sense is run perpetually from
one stanza to another, as in Horace's Alcaics ; and if it
be long, it will be as apt to generate diffuseness as to
check it. Of this we have innumerable instances in
Spenser and the Italian poets. The sense required cannot
be included in one given stanza, so that another whole
stanza is added, not unfrequently, for the sake of matter
which would naturally include itself in a very few lines.

4 If Gray's plan be adopted, there is not time to become
acquainted with the arrangement, and to recognise with
pleasure the recurrence of the movement.

1 Be so good as to let me know where you found most
difficulty in following me. The passage which I most
suspect of being misunderstood is,

" And thus is missed the sole true glory j "

and the passage, where I doubt most about the reason-
ableness of expecting that the reader should follow me in
the luxuriance of the imagery and the language, is the one
that describes, under so many metaphors, the spreading of

THANKSGIVING ODE. 61

the news of the Waterloo victory over the globe. Tell
me if this displeased you.

4 Do you know who reviewed " The White Doe," in
the " Quarterly ? " After having asserted that Mr. W.
uses his words without any regard to their sense, the
writer says, that on no other principle can he explain that
Emily is always called " the consecrated Emily." Now,
the name Emily occurs just fifteen times in the poem ; and
out of these fifteen, the epithet is attached to it once, and
that for the express purpose of recalling the scene in
which she had been consecrated by her brother's solemn
adjuration, that she would fulfil her destiny, and become a
soul,

" By force of sorrows high
Uplifted to the purest sky
Of undisturbed mortality."

The point upon which the whole moral interest of the
piece hinges, when that speech is closed, occurs in this
line,

" He kissed the consecrated maid ; "

and to bring back this to the reader, I repeated the epithet.
4 The service I have lately rendered to Burns' genius,1
will one day be performed to mine. The quotations, also,
are printed with the most culpable neglect of correctness :
there are lines turned into nonsense. Too much of this.
Farewell !

4 Believe me affectionately yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The following, also addressed to Southey, may serve

1 In his ' Letter to a Friend of Burns.' See the chapter below,
in these Memoirs, on this subject.

62 POEMS IN STANZAS.

to illustrate what is said above concerning poems in
stanzas :

4 Dear Southey,

; My opinion in respect to epic poetry is much the same
as the critic whom Lucien Buonaparte has quoted in his
preface. Epic poetry, of the highest class, requires in the
first place an action eminently influential, an action with
a grand or sublime train of consequences ; it next requires
the intervention and guidance of beings superior to man,
what the critics I believe call machinery ; and, lastly, I
think with Dennis, that no subject but a religious one can
answer the demand of the soul in the highest class of this
species of poetry. Now Tasso's is a religious subject, and
in my opinion, a most happy one ; but I am confidently
of opinion that the movement of Tasso's poem rarely cor-
responds with the essential character of the subject ; nor
do I think it possible that written in stanzas it should.
The celestial movement cannot, I think, be kept up, if the
sense is to be broken in that despotic manner at the close
of every eight lines. Spenser's stanza is infinitely finer
than the ottava rliima, but even Spenser's will not allow
the epic movement as exhibited by Homer, Virgil, and
Milton. How noble is the first paragraph of the JEneid in
point of sound, compared with the first stanza of the Jeru-
salem Delivered ! The one winds with the majesty of the
Conscript Fathers entering the Senate House in solemn
procession ; and the other has the pace of a set of recruits
shuffling on the drill-ground, and receiving from the adju-
tant or drill-serjeant the command to halt at every ten or
twenty steps. Farewell. Affectionately yours,

4W. WORDSWORTH.'

THE FORCE OF PRAYER. 63

The following notice from Mr. Wordsworth on one of
his poems,1 written as a sequel to ' The White Doe,'
finds a suitable place here :

The Force of Prayer ; 2 an appendage to ' The White
Doe.' — ' My friend, Mr. Rogers, has also written on the
subject. The story is preserved in Dr. Whitaker's " His-
tory of Craven," a topographical writer of first-rate merit
in all that concerns the past ; but such was his aversion
from the modern spirit, as shown in the spread of manu-
factories in those districts of which he treated, that his
readers are left entirely ignorant, both of the progress of
these arts, and their real bearing upon the comfort, vir-
tues, and happiness of the inhabitants.

' While wandering on foot through the fertile valleys,
and over the moorlands of the Appenine that divides
Yorkshire from Lancashire, I used to be delighted with
observing the number of substantial cottages that had
sprung up on every side, each having its little plot of fer-
tile ground, won from the surrounding waste. A bright
and warm fire, if needed, was always to be found in these
dwellings. The father was at his loom, the children
looked healthy and happy. Is it not to be feared that the
increase of mechanic power has done away with many of
these blessings, and substituted many evils ? Alas, if
these evils grow, how are they to be chepked, and where
is the remedy to be found ? Political economy will not
supply it, that is certain. We must look to something
deeper, purer, and higher.'

1 From MSS. I. F. « Vol. iv. p 214.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

LAODAMIA.— DION. — ODE TO LYCORIS. — LINES ON TRAJAN'S PILLAR.
— TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. — LATIN POEM BY THE AUTHOR'S SON,
THE REV. JOHN WORDSWORTH.

I HAVE been led to place these poems together, at the
head of this chapter, from a consideration of various cir-
cumstances.

First, they have an affinity to each other in the quality
of their subjects, which distinguishes them from the larger
number of the author's poems hitherto enumerated ; and
next, they belong to nearly the same period in the date of
their composition. 'LAODAMIA' was written in 1814,
1 DION ' in 1816, the ' ODE TO LYCORIS ' in 1817, and the
others a short time subsequently.1

It is a prominent characteristic of Mr. Wordsworth's
poems, that they appear to grow out of his own personal
history. Thus the ' Evening Walk,' the ' Descriptive
Sketches,' and ' The Prelude,' partake more or less of
an autobiographical character. The same thing may be
said of a large number of his minor poems. They are,
for the most part, expressions of his own feelings, excited
by objects within the sphere of his own life. What he
has said of Burns is true, in great measure, of himself.2
1 Neither the subjects of his poems, nor his manner of
handling them, allow us long to forget their author. On

1 Vol. ii. p. 158, 164 j vol. iv. p. 220.

2 Letter to a Friend of Burns, p. 20.

LAODAMIA. 65

the basis of his human character he has reared a poetic
' one, which, with more or less distinctness, presents itself
to view in almost every part of his earlier verses.' The
beautiful region in which Wordsworth lived, the mountains
and vales, the lakes and streams among which his days
were spent, the Lake of Grasmere, his cottage by its side,
the orchard behind it, the members of his own household,
and, afterwards, the home-scenery of Rydal, — all these
suggested materials for his poetical faculty to elaborate ;
so that his poetical world, if I may so speak, appears to
revolve around the axis of his own personal existence.

To this may be added, in connection with what has just
been said, that although he has excelled in almost all other
kinds of composition, he has made but one attempt at a
drama. On the whole, there appears to be a wide differ-
ence, in certain important respects, between a large por-
tion of Wordsworth's poetry, and that of the great writers
of antiquity, and of our own Spenser, Shakspeare, and
Milton, who seem to have rejoiced in emancipating them-
selves from what was present and personal, and in ranging
freely over the limitless fields of universal space and
time.

Whence arises this difference ?

This question is an interesting one, and the records of
Wordsworth's own life appear to suggest tjie answer.

However, not to dilate on this subject, which might lead
into speculations foreign to the present undertaking, the
fact is as has been stated ; and from this fact may be
explained the circumstance that Wordsworth's poems,
which come home to almost every English heart, particu-
larly to that of those who either by personal intercourse,
or by the description of others, are familiar with the
objects which he portrays, and which, it may be added,
have found a very cordial reception in America, have at

VOL II. 5

66 LAODAMIA.

present made comparatively little progress on the conti-
nent of Europe. Byron and Scott have been made
familiar by translations to the inhabitants of France and
Germany, but few poems of Wordsworth have found their
way into their languages. I know not whether M. Lap-
perberg, the celebrated historian of Hamburgh, ever
executed his design of rendering some of these poems
into German ; but in announcing that intention in a letter
to Mr. Wordsworth, in 1840, he expressed a regret, in
which he said the distinguished Tieck participated, that
the writings of the author of ' The Excursion ' were not
more known to the German public.

Such being the case, it may be regarded as a happy
circumstance, that among Mr. Wordsworth's writings there
exists a class sufficiently numerous to show how large and
expansive his faculties and feelings were, in which the
poet divests himself of all personal and local associations,
and bidding farewell to his own age and country, throws
himself back upon antiquity, and merges all his own indi-
viduality in a deep and abundant feeling of sympathy with
persons of the historic and heroic ages of Greece and
Rome, and thus extends, as it were, the limits of human
brotherhood, and gives new life to what is extinct, and
enfolds the distant members of the human family in a
comprehensive embrace of love.

The reader will perceive that I refer to such poems as
4 Laodamia ' and l Dion,' and he will see the reason why
they are placed together as specimens of a class.

In ' LAODAMIA ' the subordination of what is sensual to
what is spiritual, and the subjection of the human passions
to the government of reason, is taught in language of
exquisite delicacy and grace, well fitted to the solemnity
and sanctity of the subject, at the same time that the bal-
ance between the claims of affection and duty is preserved

DION. 67

with a steady hand. Laodamia forfeits the favour of
heaven by a passionate abuse of it. But the trees on the
tomb of Protesilaus pay a natural homage to the affections,
by withering at the sight of Troy. The universality of
the laws of reason and affection, and the necessity of a
just equipoise between them, for the maintenance of
human society, could not be more happily displayed than
by this example derived from the ante-homeric age, and
versified in language which, by its sweetness and beauty,
appears to express the symphony which prevails in nature
and society, when all the organic elements are in melodi-
ous harmony with each other. And this is done in the
poem of ' Laodamia.'

But it is not my purpose to compose a critical review of
these poems. I will, therefore, refrain ; and content my-
self with requesting the reader to apply the principle here
illustrated to the poem of 'DioN,'1 which displays, in a
most picturesque manner, an exemplification of the uni-
versality and omnipotence of that other great law of the
moral world, viz. —

' Him, only him, the shield of Jove defends,
Whose means are fair and spotless as his ends.'

These poems, as has been stated, were written in
1814-16. About this time Mr. Wordsworth's attention
was given to the education of his eldest sdn : this occupa-
tion appears to have been the occasion of their composi-
tion. In preparing his son for his university career, he
reperused the principal Latin poets ; and doubtless the
careful study of their works was not without a beneficial
influence on his own. It imparted variety and richness to
his conceptions, and shed new graces on his style, and
rescued his poems from the charge of mannerism.

1 Vol. ii. p. 164.

68 TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL.

Among the fruits of this course of reading, was a trans-
lation of some of the earlier books of VIRGIL'S ^ENEID.
Three books were finished. This version was not executed
in blank verse, but in rhyme ; not, however, in the style of
Pope, but with greater freedom and vigour. A specimen
of this translation was contributed . by Mr. Wordsworth to
the ' Philological Museum,' printed at Cambridge in 1832.1
It was accompanied with the following letter from the
author : —

TRANSLATION OF PAUT OF THE FIRST BOOK OF
THE ^NEID.2

To the Editor of the Philological Museum*

4 Your letter reminding me of an expectation I some
time since held out to you, of allowing some specimens of
my translation from the '^Eneid ' to be printed in the
1 Philological Museum,' was not very acceptable ; for I
had abandoned the thought of ever sending into the world
any part of that experiment — for it was nothing more —
an experiment begun for amusement, and, I now think, a

1 Vol. i. p. 382.

2 Philological Museum, edit. Camb. 1832, vol. i. p. 382.

* [The editor was Mr. Wordsworth's friend, the Rev. Julius
Charles Hare, now Archdeacon of Lewes, — one of the translators
of Niebuhr's History of Rome, and one of the authors of the
1 Guesses at Truth, by Two Brothers.' See the dedication to
Wordsworth of the second edition of the ' Guesses at Truth,' in
which Mr. Hare, writing in 1838, after acknowledging his own
deep obligations to the poet's writings, says — < Many will join
in my prayer, that health and strength of body and mind may be
granted to you, to complete the noble works which you have still
in store, so that men may learn more worthily to understand and
appreciate what a glorious gift God bestows on a nation, when he
gives them a poet.' P. vn. — H. R.]

TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. 69

less fortunate one than when I first named it to you.
Having been displeased, in modern translations, with the
additions of incongruous matter, I began to translate with
a resolve to keep clear of that fault, by adding nothing ;
but t became convinced that a spirited translation can
scarcely be accomplished in the English language without
admitting a principle of compensation. On this point,
however, I do not wish to insist ; and merely send the fol-
lowing passage, taken at random, from a wish to comply
with your request.

4 W. W.'

The following letters, on the same subject, were
addressed by Mr. Wordsworth to Earl Lonsdale.

4 My Lord,

4 Many thanks for your obliging letter. I shall be much
gratified if you happen to like my translation, and thank-
ful for any remarks with which you may honour me. I
have made so much progress with the second book, that I
defer sending the former till that is finished. It takes in
many places a high tone of passion, which I would gladly
succeed in rendering. When I read Virgil in the original
I am moved ; but not so much so by the translation ; and
I cannot but think this owing to a defect in the diction,
which I have endeavoured to supply, with what success
you will easily be enabled to judge.

4 Ever, rny Lord,

4 Most faithfully your obliged friend and servant,
4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

'Feb. 5, [1829.]
4 My Lord,

4 1 am truly obliged by your friendly and frank com-
munication. May I beg that you would add to the favour,

70 TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL.

by marking with a pencil some, of the passages that are
faulty, in your view of the case ? We seem pretty much
of opinion upon the subject of rhyme. Pentameters,
where the sense has a close of some sort at every two
lines, may be rendered in regularly closed couplets ; but
hexameters (especially the Virgilian, that run the lines into
each other for a great length) cannot. I have long been
persuaded that Milton formed his blank verse upon the
model of the Georgics and the ^Eneid, and I am so much
struck with this resemblance, that I should have attempted
Virgil in blank verse, had I 'not been persuaded that no
ancient author can be with advantage so rendered. Their
religion, their warfare, their course of action and feeling,
are too remote from modern interest to allow it. We
require every possible help and attraction of sound, in our
language, to smooth the way for the admission of things so
remote from our present concerns. My own notion of
translation is, that it cannot be too literal, provided three
faults be avoided : baldness, in which I include all that
takes from dignity ; and strangeness, or uncouthness, in-
cluding harshness ; and lastly, attempts to convey mean-
ings which, as they cannot be given but by languid
circumlocutions, cannot in fact be said to be given at all.
I will trouble you with an instance in which I fear this
fault exists. Virgil, describing ^Eneas's voyage, third
book, verse 551, says —

" Hinc sinus Herculei, si vera est fama, Tarenti
Cernitur."

I render it thus :

" Hence we behold the bay that bears the name \
Of proud Tarentum, proud to. share the fame \
Of Hercules, though by a dubious claim." (

TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. 71

I was unable to get the meaning with tolerable harmony
into fewer words, which are more than to a modern
reader, perhaps, it is worth.

4 1 feel much at a loss, without the assistance of the
marks which I have requested, to take an exact measure
of your Lordship's feelings with regard to the diction.
To save you the trouble of reference, I will transcribe
two passages from Dryden ; first, the celebrated appear-
ance of Hector's ghost to ^Eneas. ./Eneas thus addresses
him:

" 0 light of Trojans and support of Troy,
Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy,
O long expected by thy friends, from whence
Art thou returned, so late for our defence?
Do we behold thee, wearied as we are
With length of labours and with toils of war?
After so many funerals of thy own,
Art thou restored to thy declining town ? "

This I think not an unfavourable specimen of Dryden's
way of treating the solemnly pathetic passages. Yet,
surely, here is nothing of the cadence of the original, and
little of its spirit. The second verse is not in the original,
and ought not to have been in Dryden ; for it anticipates
the beautiful hemistich,

" Sat patriae Priamoque datum,"

By the by, there is the same sort of anticipation in a
spirited and harmonious couplet preceding :

" Such as he was when by Pelides slain^
Thessalian coursers dragged him o'er the plain."

This introduction of Pelides here is not in Virgil, because
it would have prevented the effect of

" Redit exuvias indutus Achillei."

72 TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL.

4 There is a striking solemnity in the answer of Pan-
theus to

" Venit summa dies et ineluctabile tempus
Dardaniee : fuimus TroGs, i'uit Ilium, et ingens
Gloria Teucrorum," &c.

Dryden thus gives it :

" Then Pantheus, with a groan,
Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town.
The fatal day, the appointed hour is come
When wrathful Jove's irrevocable doom
Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands.
The fire consumes the town, the foe commands."

4 My own translation runs thus ; and I quote it because
it occurred to my mind immediately on reading your
Lordship's observations :

" ;Tis come, the final hour,
Th' inevitable close of Dardan power
Hath come ! we have been Trojans, Ilium was,
And the great name of Troy ; now all things pass
To Argos. So wills angry Jupiter,
Amid a burning town the Grecians domineer."

4 1 cannot say that " we have been " and " Ilium was"
are as sonorous sounds as " fuimus," and " fuit ; " but
these latter must have been as familiar to the Romans as
the former to ourselves. I should much like to know if
your Lordship disapproves of my translation here. I have
one word to say upon ornament. It was my wish and
labour that my translation should have far more of the
genuine ornaments of Virgil than my predecessors. Dry-
den has been very careful of these, and profuse of his
own, which seem to me very rarely to harmonize with
those of Virgil ; as, for example, describing Hector's
appearance in the passage above alluded to,

TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. 73

" A bloody shroud, he seemed, and bathed in tears.
I wept to see the visionary man."

Again,

" And all the wounds he for his country bore
Now streamed afresh, and with new purple ran."

I feel it, however, to be too probable that my translation is
deficient in ornament, because I must unavoidably have
lost many of Virgil's, and have never without reluctance
attempted a compensation of my own. Had I taken the
liberties of my predecessors, Dryden especially, I could
have translated nine books with the labour that three have
cost me. The third book, being of a humbler character
than either of the former, I have treated with rather less
scrupulous apprehension, and have interwoven a little of
my own ; and, with permission, I will send it, ere long, for
the benefit of your Lordship's observations, which really
will be of great service to me if I proceed. Had I begun
the work fifteen years ago, I should have finished it with
pleasure ; at present, I fear it will take more time than
I either can or ought to spare. I do not think of going
beyond the fourth book.

' As to the MS., be so kind as to forward it at your
leisure to me, at Sir George Beaumont's, Coleorton Hall,
near Ashby, whither I am going in about ten days. May
I trouble your Lordship with our respeptful compliments
to Lady Lonsdale ?

4 Believe [me] ever

'Your Lordship's faithful

'And obliged friend and servant,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The following letter from S. T. Coleridge relates to the
translation of Virgil, which Wordsworth sent him in
manuscript. The date does not appear.

74 TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL.

1 Dear Wordsworth,

1 Three whole days the going through the first book cost
me, though only to find fault, but I cannot find fault in pen
and ink, without thinking over and over again, and without
some sort of an attempt to suggest the alteration ; and in so
doing how soon an hour is gone, so many half seconds up
to half minutes are lost in leaning back in one's chair, and
looking up, in the bodily act of contracting the muscles of
the brows and forehead, and unconsciously attending to the
sensation. Had I the MS. with me for five or six months,
so as to amuse myself off and on, without any solicitude
as to a given day ; and could I be persuaded that if as well
done as the nature of the thing (viz., a translation of
Virgil, in English) renders possible, it would not raise,
but simply sustain, your well merited fame for pure dic-
tion, where what is not idiom is never other than logically
correct; I doubt not that the inequalities could be re-
moved. But I am haunted by the apprehension that I am
not feeling or thinking in the same spirit with you, at one
time, and at another too much in the spirit of your writ-
ings. Since Milton, I know of no poet with so many/eZi-
cities and unforgetable lines and stanzas as you. And to
read, therefore, page after page without a single brilliant
note, depresses me, and I grow peevish with you for hav-
ing wasted your time on a work so much below you, that
you cannot stoop and take. Finally, my conviction is,
that you undertake an impossibility, and that there is no
medium between a prose version and one on the avowed
principle of compensation in the widest sense, i. e. man-
ner, genius, total effect : I confine myself to Virgil when
I say this.

' I must now set to work with all my powers and
thoughts to my Leighton, and then to my logic, and then
to my opus maximum ! if, indeed, it shall please God to

LAODAMIA DION. 75

spare me so long, which I have had too many warnings of
late (more than my nearest friends know of) not to doubt.
My kind love to Dorothy.

« S. T. COLERIDGE.
' Monday Night.'

I will now insert certain notices from the author, in
reference to the other poems mentioned above.1

Laodamia? — Rydal Mount, 1814. ' This was written
at the same time as " Dion," and " Artegal and Eli-
dure."3 The incident of the trees growing and withering
put the subject into my thoughts ; and I wrote with the
hope of giving it a loftier tone than, so far as I know, has
been given to it by any of the ancients who have treated
of it. It cost me more trouble than almost anything of
equal length I have ever written.'

Dion. — l This poem was first introduced by a stanza
that I have since transferred to the notes, for reasons there
given ; and I cannot comply with the request expressed
by some of my friends, that the rejected stanza should be
restored. I hope they will be content if it be hereafter
immediately attached to the poem, instead of its being
degraded to a place in the notes.' *

Ode to Lycoris.4 — ' This poem, as well as the pre-
ceding and the two that follow, were composed in front of
Rydal Mount, and during my walks in the neighbourhood.
Nine tenths of my verses have been murmured out in the
open air. And here let me repeat what I believe has

1 MSS. I. F. 2 Vo.1. ii. p. 158.

s Vol. ii. p. 164 ; vol. i. p. 200. 4 Vol. iv. p. 220 - 222.

* [See the rejected stanza in order to understand the desire for
the restoration of it, and still more to appreciate this instance of
the poet's severe self-control and discipline, and his dutiful regard
to the principles of his Art. — H. R.]

76 ODE TO LYCORIS.

already appeared in print. One day a stranger, having
walked round the garden and grounds of Rydal Mount,
asked of one of the female servants, who happened to be
at the door, permission to see her master's study. " This,"
said she, leading him forward, " is my master's library,
where he keeps his books ; but his study is out of doors."
After a long absence from home, it has more than once
happened that some one of my cottage neighbours (not of
the double-coach-house cottages) has said, " Well, there he
is : we are glad to hear him booing about again." Once
more in excuse for so much egotism, let me say these notes
are written for my familiar friends, and at their earnest re-
quest. Another time a gentleman, whom James1 had
conducted through the grounds,, asked him what kind of
plants throve best there. After a little consideration, he
answered, " Laurels." " That is," said the stranger,
" as it should be. Don't you know that the laurel is the
emblem of poetry, and that poets used, on public occa-
sions, to be crowned with it ? " James stared when the
question was first put, but was doubtless much pleased
with the information.

4 The discerning reader, who is aware that in the poem
of " Ellen Irwin," 2 being desirous of throwing the reader
at once out of the old ballad, so as, if possible, to preclude
a comparison between that mode of dealing with the sub-
ject and the mode I meant to adopt, may here, perhaps,
perceive that this poem originated in the four last lines of
the first stanza. These specks of snow reflected in the
lake ; and so transferred, as it were, to the subaqueous
sky, reminded me of the swans which the fancy of the
ancient classic poets yoked to the car of Venus. Hence

1 Mr. Wordsworth's faithful and respected man-servant.

2 Vol. iii. p. 10.

PILLAR OF TRAJAN. 77

the tenor of the whole first stanza, and the name of
Lycoris, which with some readers who think mythology
and classical allusion too far-fetched, and therefore more
or less unnatural and affected, will tend to unrealize the
sentiment that pervades these verses. But surely one who
has written so much in verse as I have done may be
allowed to retrace his steps into the region of fancy, which
delighted him in his boyhood, when he first became ac-
quainted with the Greek and Roman poets.

4 Before I read Virgil I was so strongly attached to Ovid,
whose Metamorphoses I read at school, that I was quite in
a passion whenever I found him, in books of criticism,
placed below Virgil. As to Homer, I was never weary
of travelling over the scenes through which he led me.
Classical literature affected me by its own beauty.

1 But the truths of Scripture having been entrusted to
the dead languages, and these fountains having been
recently laid open at the Reformation, an importance and
a sanctity were at that period attached to classical litera-
ture that extended, as is obvious in Milton's Lycidas, for
example, both as to its spirit and form, in a degree that
can never be revived. No doubt the hackneyed and life-
less use into which mythology fell towards the close of
the seventeenth century, and which continued through the
eighteenth, disgusted the general reader with all allusion
to it in modern verse. And though, in deference to this
disgust, and also in a measure participating in it, I ab-
stained in my earlier writings from all introduction of
pagan fable, surely, even in its humble form, it may ally
itself with real sentiment, as I can truly affirm it did in
the present case.'

Pillar of Trajan.1 — 4 These verses had better, perhaps,

1 Vol. iii. p. 181.

78 LATIN POEM

be transferred to the class of " Italian Poems." I had
observed in the newspaper that the Pillar of Trajan
was given at Oxford as a subject for a prize poem in
English verse. I had a wish, perhaps, that my son, who
was then an under-graduate at Oxford, should try his
fortune ; and I told him so : but he, not having been
accustomed to write verse, wisely declined to enter on
the task ; whereupon I showed him these lines as a proof
of what might, without difficulty, be done on such a
subject.'

So far Mr. Wordsworth's notes on these poems. I will
conclude this chapter with observing, that though Mr.
Wordsworth's son abstained from writing English verse,
on the occasion above mentioned, yet he has produced
verses in Latin (some of them, translations from his
father's poems and printed with them by him, and others
original,) which entitle him to a high place among the
English composers in Latin verse. Doubtless he owed
much to the training he received in reading the Latin
poets with his father, and in learning from him to contem-
plate their beauties with a poet's eye.1

1 The following unpublished Latin Epistle, addressed to the
Poet in 1844, by his son, then at Maderia, has been kindly com-
municated by the author, the Rev. John Wordsworth, now rector
of Brigham, near Cockermouth, and will be perused with interest
for its own merits, and from its connection with him to whom it is
inscribed.

EPISTOLA AD PATREM SUUM.

I PETE longinquas, non segnis Epistola, terras,

I pete, Rydalise conscia saxa lyrae :
I pete, qua valles rident, sylvseque lacusque,

Quamvis Arctoo paene sub axe jacent.
Parvos quaere Lares, non aurea Tecta, poetse,

Qui tamen ingenii sceptraque mentis habet.

BY THE AUTHOR'S SON.

Quid facial genitor? valeatne, an cura senilis

Opprimat? Ista refer, filius ista rogat.
Scire velit, quare venias tu scripta latine ?

Die ' fugio linguam, magne poeta, tuam !
Quern Regina jubet circumdare tempora lauro,

Quern vere vatem saecula nostra vocant.'
Inde refer gressus, responsaque tradita curae

Fida tuae, nuraeris in loca digna senis,
Haec ego tradiderim, majoribus ire per altum

Nunq velis miserum me mea musa rapit.
Solvimus e portu, navisque per aequora currit

Neptuni auxilio fluctifragisque rotis.
Neptunus videt attonitus, Neptunia conjux,

Omnis et sequorei nympha comata chori.
Radimus Hispanum litus, loca saxea crebris

Gallorum belli nobilitata malis.
Haud mora, sunt visas Gades,* urbs fabula quondam,

Claraque ab Herculeo nomine, clara suo.
Hanc magnam cognovit Arabs, Romanus eandem,

Utraque gens illi vimque decusque tulit.
Hora brevis, fragilisque viris ! similisque ruina

Viribus humanis omnia facta manet.
Pulchra jaces, olim Carthaginis aemula magnas.

Nataque famosae non inhonesta Tyri !
En ! ratibus navale caret, nautis caret alnus,

Mercatorque fugit dives inane Forum.
Templa vacant pomp'i, nitidisque theatra catervis,

Tristis et it faedi foemina virque vi&.
Segnis in officiis, nee rectus ad aethera miles

Pauperis et vestes, armaque juris habet.
Sic gens quaeque peril, f quando civilia bella

Viscera divellunt, jusque fidesque fugit.
Auspiciis laetam nostris lux proxima pandit

Te, Calpe J celsis imperiosa jugis.
Urbs munimen habet nullo quassabilel)ello,

Claustrum Tyrrhenis, claustrum et Atlantis, aquis.

* Cadiz.

f Hispania hoc tempore bello civili divulsa fuit.
Gibraltar.

80 LATIN "POEM

TJndique nam vasta? sustentant mcenia rupes,

Quae torve in terras inque tuentur aquas.
Arteque sunt mirA sectae per saxa cavernae

Atria sanguineo saeva sacrata Deo.
Urbs invicta tamen populis commercia tuta

Praebet, et in portus illicit inque Forum.
Hie Mercator adest Maurus cui rebus agendis

Ah ! nimis est cordi Punica prisca fides ;
Afer et e mediis Libya3 sitientis arenis,

Suetus in immundA vivere barbaric j
Multus et aequoreis, ut quondam, Graius in undis,

Degener, antiquum sic probat ille genus j
Niliacae potator aquae, Judaeus, et omne

Litus Tyrrhenum quos, et Atlantis, alit.
Hos quiim dissimiles (linguae sive ora notentur)

Hos quam felices pace Britannus habet !
Anglia! dum pietas et honos, dum nota per orbem

Sit tibi in intacto pe(5tore prisca fides ;
Dum pia cura tibi, magnos meruisse triumphos,

Justaque per populos jura tulisse feros ;
Longinquas teneat tua vasta potentia terras,

Et maneat Calpe gloria magna Tibi !
Insula Atlantaeis assurgit ab aequoris undis,

Insula flammigero semper amata Deo,
Seu teneat celsi flagrantia signa Leonis,

Seu gyro Pisces interiora petal.
' Hie ver assiduum atque alienis mensibus aestas,'

Flavus et autumnus frugibus usque tumet.
Non jacet lonio felicior Insula ponto,

Ulla, nee Eoi fluctibus oceani.
Vix, Madeira! tuum nunc refert dicere nomen,
> Floribus, et Bacchi munere pingue solum.

Te vetus baud vanis cumulavit laudibus 33tas,

0 fortunato conspicienda choro !
Haec nunc terra sinu nos detinet alma, proculque

A Patriae curis, anxietate domi.
Sic cepisse ferunt humanae oblivia cura

Quisquis Lethasae pocula sumpsit aquae :
Sic semota sequi studiisque odiisque docebas

Otia discipulos, docte Epicure, tuos.

BY THE AUTHOR'S SON. 81

Sed non ulla dies grato sine sole, nee ullo

Fruge carens hortus tempore*, fronde nemus ; f
Nee levis ignotis oneratus odoribus aer,

Quales doctus equum flectere novit Arabs ;
Nee caecae quaclnque jacent sub rupe cavernae, $

Queis nunquam radiis Phoebus adire potest ;
Nee currentis aquae strepitus,§ nee saxa, petensque

Mons || excelsa suis sidera culminibus ;
Nee tranquilla quies, rerumque oblivia, ponti

Suadebunt iterum solicitare vias !
Rideat at quamvis haec vultu terra sereno,

Tabescit pravo gens malefida jugo :
Dum sedet heu ! tristis morborum pallor in ore,

Crebraque anhelanti pectore tussis inest.
Ambitus et luxus, totoque accersita mundo,

Queis omnis populus quoque sub axe perit ;
Fatnae dira sitis, rerumque onerosa cupido.

Raptaque ab irato templa diesque Deo,
Supplicium non lene suuin, prenasque tulerunt ;

Saepi petis proprio, vir miser, ense latus !
Uxor adhuc aegros dilecta resuscitat artus ;

Anxia cura suis, anxia cura mihi.
Altera quodque dies jam roboris attulit, illud

Altera dura suis febribus abstulerit.
Aurea mens illi, mollique in pectore corda,

Et clarum longi nobilitate genus.
Quanquam saepe trahunt Libycum non^[ aera sanum,

(Gratia magna Dei), pignora nostra vigent.
Jamque vale grandaeve Pater, grandaevaque Mater,

Tuque 0 dilecto conjuge laeta soror ! *»

* Sunt hibernis mensibus aurea mala.

f Laureae sylvae sunt.

| Antris abundat Insula.

^ Multos rivos naturJi, miraqne humani ingenii arte constructos
continet Madeira.

|| Pace Lusitanorum Insula nil nisi mons^est, rectis culminibus
mari conspicua.

If Ventus ex Africa — Leste.

VOL. II. 6

82 LATIN POEM.

Quseque pias nobis partes cognata ferebas

Nomina vana cadunt, Tu mihi Mater eras ;
Ingenioque mari, pietate ornata fi deque

Sanguine nulla domiis, semper amore, soror ;
Tu quoque, care, vale, Frater, quamvis procul absis,

Per virides eampos qua petit eequor Eden.
Denique tota dornus, cunctique valete propinqui,

Carmina plura mihi, musa manusque negat.

Madeira;, Martiis Cakndis,
1814.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

LETTER TO A FRIEND OF BURNS. LETTER ON MONUMENTS

TO LITERARY MEN.

IN the year 1815, Mr. Wordsworth was consulted by a
friend of Robert Burns, John Gray, Esq., of Edinburgh,
on the best mode of vindicating the reputation of Burns,
which, it was said, had been much injured by the publica-
tion of Dr. Currie's Life and Correspondence of the Scotch
Poet. In a reply, afterwards published,* to this inquiry,
Mr. Wordsworth recommends that a brief Life from the
pen of Mr. Gilbert Burns, the poet's brother, should be
prefixed to his works ; he then adds, that ' a more copious
narrative would be expected from a brother, and some

* [The title of this pamphlet was ' A Letter to a friend of
Robert Burns, occasioned by an intended republication of the
account of the Life of Burns, by Dr. Currie, and of the
selection made by him from his Letters, by William Words-
worth. London, 1816.' The proofs of this publication and of
'The Thanksgiving Ode' were corrected by Charles Lamb, who
says of the former — ' The letter I read with unabated satisfaction.
Such a thing was wanted ; called for. The -parallel of Cotton
with Burns I heartily approved of. Iz. Walton hallows any page
in which his reverend name appears.' Letter to Wordsworth, of
which the date was accurately given, ' 26th April, 1816,' and
wrongly change I by Lamb's biographer to 1818. 'Final Memo-
rials of Charles Lamb.' Chap. vi. ad fin. — H. R.]

84 LETTER TO A FRIEND OF BURNS.

allowance ought to be made, in this and other respects, for
an expectation so natural.' 1

He next expresses his own opinion as to the course to
be pursued in reference to the cjiarges made against the
poet's moral character.

4 1 am not sure,' he says, ' that it would not be best, at
this day, explicitly to declare to what degree Robert Burns
had given way to pernicious habits, and, as nearly as may
be, to fix the point to which his moral character had been
degraded. It is a disgraceful feature of the times that this
measure should be necessary ; most painful to think that a
brother should have such an office to perform. But, if
Gilbert Burns be conscious that the subject will bear to be
so treated, he has no choice ; the duty has been imposed
upon him by the errors into which the former biographer
has fallen.'

From considering the circumstances of Burns, he then
proceeds to discuss the matter more at large. ' Your feel-
ings, I trust, go along with mine ; and, rising from this
individual case to a general view of the subject, you will
probably agree with me in opinion that biography, though
differing in some essentials from works of fiction, is never-
theless, like them, an art, — an art, the laws of which are
determined by the imperfections of our nature, and the
constitution of society. Truth is not here, as in the
sciences, and in natural philosophy, to be sought without
scruple, and promulgated for its own sake, upon the mere
chance of its being serviceable ; but only for obviously
justifying purposes, moral or intellectual.' 2

He then pronounces his opinion thus : ' Only to Ph'los-
ophy enlightened by the affections does it belong justly to

1 Letter to a Friend of Burns. Lond. 1816, p. 37.

2 Ibid. p. 14.

LETTER TO A FRIEND OF BURNS. 85

estimate the claims of the deceased on the one hand, and
of the present and future generations on the other, and to
strike a balance between them.' 1

He proceeds to say, l Such Philosophy runs a risk of
becoming extinct among us, if the coarse intrusions into
the recesses, the gross breaches upon the sanctities, of
domestic life, to which we have lately been more and more
accustomed, are to be regarded as indications of a vigor-
ous state of public feeling — favourable to the main-
tenance of the liberties of our country. Intelligent lovers
of freedom are from necessity bold and hardy lovers of
truth ; but, according to the measure in which their love is
intelligent, it is attended with a finer discrimination, and a
more sensitive delicacy. The wise and good (and all
others being lovers of license rather than of liberty are in
fact slaves) respect, as one of the noblest characteristics of
Englishmen, that jealousy of familiar approach, which,
while it contributes to the maintenance of private dignity,
is one of the most efficacious guardians of rational public
freedom.'2

He proceeds to consider the biography of authors.
* Our business is with their books — to understand and
enjoy them.' He deprecates biographies ' on the Bos-
wellian plan,' and he confesses that he would not be
likely to rejoice if he were to hear that ' records of Horace
and his contemporaries composed upon that plan, were
unearthed among the ruins of Herculaneum.' ' I should
dread,' he says, 4 to disfigure the beautiful ideal of the
memorial of those illustrious persons with incongruous
features.' 3

1 Letter to a Friend of Burns, p. 15. * Ibid. p. 16.

3 Ibid. p. 18. Some interesting and valuable observations of a
similar character to the above will be found in Mr. Coleridge's
'Friend,' No. 21. [These observations will be found in the later

86 LETTER TO A FRIEND OF BURNS.

Catullus has ventured to say, that, although a poet him-
self ought to be pure, it was not requisite that his poetry
should be so, — a sentiment which evinces a very low
estimate of the functions of a poet, in the age in which
it was uttered. Mr. Wordsworth's proposition is very
different from this. Provided the poetry be agreeable and
instructive, he would not inquire very minutely into the
character of the poet. Perhaps this may be reasonable
and wise, if the poet's life will not bear to be inquired
into. In that case, it would be to be regretted, for the
sake of society, that the merits of the poetry in a moral
point of view should be marred by the demerits of the
poet. But I apprehend, if a poet be regarded as a moral
teacher (and such surely is the case), the effect of his
teaching will be powerful and salutary in proportion as
his teaching is seen to have been embodied in his own
life ; or, to use the words of another Latin poet slightly
modified,

' Sic agitur censura, et sic exempla parantur,
Cum Vates, alios quod docet, ipse facit.1

The sentiments expressed in this Letter by Mr. Words-
worth may serve as a check to a spirit which authors
themselves, no less than the public, have been not slow to

editions of ' The Friend,' in the latter part of the second volume.
' The spirit of genuine biography is in nothing more conspicuous,
than in the firmness with which it withstands the cravings of
worthless curiosity, as distinguished from the thirst after useful
knowledge.' Vol. n. p. 235, edit, of 1837. See also in the note at
the end of this chapter the earnest poetic protest pronounced by
Wordsworth's successor in the Laureateship, against the abuses
of biography discussed in the ' Letter to a Friend of Burns.'
The piece has not yet appeared among Mr. Tennyson's Poems. —
H.R.]

LETTER TO A FRIEND OF BURNS.

87

encourage in our own day. How many writers have
ensconced the public in a confessional, and have knelt
down, as it were, like penitents, and have whispered
secrets into the ear of the world ! This auricular con-
fession in the streets is a vice which needs to be repro-
bated. Scaliger said, that it was very impertinent in
Montaigne to imagine that the world cared which he liked
best — white wine or red. And how much vanity as well
as profligacy is there in the notion, that it imports the
public to know from an author's own lips what his sensa-
tions are when he is pursuing a course of vicious indul-
gence ! Surely that kind of writing cannot be too severely
censured which is founded in a reckless renunciation, on
the part of the author, of all feeling of reverence and
modesty towards the public as well as himself.

This Letter may also be of use in tempering the
inquisitive curiosity, and repressing the eager craving
(which appear now to be rife), for a knowledge of minute
details in the lives of celebrated men. ' Grreca res est,
nihil velare? said the elder Pliny, somewhat sarcastically ;
and what the Roman philosopher condemned appears now
to be becoming an English fashion. We require to be
reminded, that facts, great and small, minutely registered
with indiscriminate precision, do not constitute Truth;
but that it is by a due subordination of 'what is little to
what is great, and by the suppression of what is trivial
and by the softening down of what is harsh in a gradual
aerial perspective, and by a separation of what belongs to
the essence of the life and character of an individual from
what is transitory and accidental ; in a word, by an har-
monious adjustment and proportion of the several parts,
according to their relative importance, that a true portrait
is delineated. As a caution against popular error in this
respect, the Letter to a Friend of Burns, by Mr. Words-

88 LETTER ON MONUMENTS

worth, which appears to have attracted but little attention1
when it was first published, may be read with pleasure
and advantage at the present time.

Three years after the publication of that Letter, Mr.
Wordsworth was requested to aid in raising a monument
to Burns. This gave him occasion to express his opinions
on the erection of monuments to literary men, in a letter
to a friend. This letter has never yet seen the light ; and
may fitly be inserted here. It will be remembered, that
the observations which it contains concerning the injurious
operations of the law of copyright in England are less
applicable since the amendments introduced into that law
through the exertions of Sir Egerton Brydges, Mr. Justice
Talfourd, Lord Mahon, and other eminent literary men ;
and the general tenor of the letter in this respect, as in
some others, may in some degree be modified accord-
ingly-

'Rydal Mount, April 21, 1819.
'Sir,

' The letter with which you have honoured me, bearing
date the 31st of March, I did not receive until yesterday ;
and, therefore, could not earlier express my regret that,
notwithstanding a cordial approbation of the feeling which
has prompted the undertaking, and a genuine sympathy
in admiration with the gentlemen who have subscribed
towards a Monument for Burns, I cannot unite my humble
efforts with theirs in promoting this object.

4 Sincerely can I affirm that my respect for the motives
which have swayed these gentlemen has urged me to
trouble you with a brief statement of the reasons of my
dissent.

1 Only 500 copies were printed.

TO LITERARY MEN.

4 In the first place : Eminent poets appear to me to be
a class of men, who less than any others stand in need of
such marks of distinction ; and hence I infer, that this
mode of acknowledging their merits is one for which they
would not, in general, be themselves solicitous. Burns
did, indeed, erect a monument to Ferguson ; but I appre-
hend his gratitude took this course because he felt that
Ferguson had been prematurely cut off, and that his fame
bore no proportion to his deserts. In neither of these
particulars can the fate of Burns justly be said to resem-
ble that of his predecessor : his years were indeed few, but
numerous enough to allow him to spread his name far and
wide, and to take permanent root in the affections of his
countrymen ; in short, he has raised for himself a monu-
ment so conspicuous, and of such imperishable materials,
as to render a local fabric of stone superfluous, and, there-
fore, comparatively insignificant. .

4 But why, if this be granted, should not his fond ad-
mirers be permitted to indulge their feelings, and at the
same time to embellish the metropolis of Scotland ? If
this may be justly objected to, and in my opinion it may,
it is because the showy tributes to genius are apt to draw
off attention from those efforts by which the interests of
literature might be substantially promoted ; and to exhaust
public spirit in comparatively unprofitable exertions, when
the wrongs of literary men are crying out for redress on
all sides. It appears to me, that towards no class of his
Majesty's subjects are the laws so unjust and oppressive.
The attention of Parliament has lately been directed,
by petition, to the exaction of copies of newly published
works for certain libraries ; but this is a trifling evil
compared with the restrictions imposed upon the dura-
tion of copyright, which, in respect to works profound
in philosophy, or elevated, abstracted, and refined in

90

LETTER ON MONUMENTS

imagination, is tantamount almost to an exclusion of the
author from all pecuniary recompense ; and, even where
works of imagination and manners are so constituted as
to be adapted to immediate demand, as is the case of
those of Burns, justly may it be asked, what reason can
be assigned that an author who dies young should have
the prospect before him of his children being left to lan-
guish in poverty and dependence, while booksellers are
revelling in luxury upon gains derived from works which
are the delight of many nations.

' This subject might be carried much further, and we
might ask, if the course of things insured immediate
wealth, and accompanying rank and honours — honours
and wealth often entailed on their families to men distin-
guished in the other learned professions, — why the laws
should interfere to take away those pecuniary emoluments
which are the natural inheritance of the posterity of au-
thors, whose pursuits, if directed by genius and sustained
by industry, yield in importance to none in which the
members of a community can be engaged ?

4 But to recur to the proposal in your letter. I would
readily assist, according to my means, in erecting a monu-
ment to the memory of the Poet Chatterton, who, with
transcendent genius, was cut off while he was yet a boy
in years ; this, could he have anticipated the tribute, might
have soothed his troubled spirit, as an expression of gene-
ral belief in the existence of those powers which he was
too impatient and too proud to develope.* At all events,

* [See the poem 'Resolution and Independence* ('The Leech
Gatherer '), stanza vn.

< I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy,
The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride.'

Vol. ii. p. 126.— H. R.]

TO LITERARY MEN.

91

it might prove an awful and a profitable warning. I
should also be glad to see a monument erected on the
banks of Loch Leven to the memory of the innocent and
tender-hearted Michael Bruce, who after a short life, spent
in poverty and obscurity, was called away too early to
have left behind him more than a few trustworthy promises
of pure affections and unvitiated imagination.

4 Let the gallant defenders of our country be liberally
rewarded with monuments ; their noble actions cannot
speak for themselves, as the writings of men of genius are
able to do. Gratitude in respect to them stands in need
of admonition ; and the very multitude of heroic com-
petitors which increases the demand for this sentiment
towards our naval and military defenders, considered as a
body, is injurious to the claims of individuals. Let our
great statesmen and eminent lawyers, our learned and
eloquent divines, and they who have successfully devoted
themselves to the abstruser sciences, be rewarded in like
manner ; but towards departed genius, exerted in the fine
arts, and more especially in- poetry, I humbly think, in the
present state of things, the sense of our obligation to it
may more satisfactorily be expressed by means pointing
directly to the general benefit of literature.

4 Trusting that these opinions of an individual will be
candidly interpreted, I have the honour'to be
4 Your obedient servant,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The following letter, though written a quarter of a
century later, may, from its subject, find a proper place
here.

92 LETTER ON MONUMENTS

To J. Peace, Esq., City Library, Bristol.

'Rydal Mount, April 8, 1844.
4 My dear Mr. Peace,

4 You have gratified me by what you say of Sir Thomas
Browne. I possess his Religio Medici, Christian Morals,
Vulgar Errors, &c. in separate publications, and value
him highly as a most original author. I almost regret
that you did not add his Treatise upon Urn Burial to
your publication ; it is not long, and very remarkable for
the vigour of mind that it displays.

4 Have you had any communication with Mr. Cottle
upon the subject of the subscription which he has set on
foot for the erection of a Monument to Southey in Bristol
Cathedral ? We are all engaged in a like tribute to be
placed in the parish church of Keswick. For my own
part, I am not particularly fond of placing monuments in
churches, at least in modern times. I should prefer their
being put in public places in the town with which the
party was connected by birth or otherwise ; or in the
country, if he were a person who lived apart from the
bustle of the world. And in Southey's case, I should have
liked better a bronze bust, in some accessible and not
likely to be disturbed part of St. Vincent's Rocks, as a
site, than the cathedral.

' Thanks for your congratulations upon my birthday. I
have now entered, awful thought ! upon my 75th year.

4 God bless you, and believe me, my dear friend,
4 Ever faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

4 Mrs. Wordsworth begs her kind remembrance, as does
Miss Fenwick, who is with us.'

TO LITERARY MEN.

93

[The following poem, alluded to in a previous note in this
chapter, is taken from ' The Examiner ' (London) to which it was
communicated ; and is introduced here, as having an interest in
connection with the course of argument and feeling in Words-
worth's ' Letter to a Friend of Burns ' :

«THE AGE OF IRREVERENCE.

To ,

You might have won the poet's name,
If such be worth the winning now,
And gained a laurel for your brow,

Of sounder leaf than I can claim.

But you have made the wiser choice j
A life that moves to gracious ends
Through troops of unrecording friends,

A deedful life, a silent voice :

And you have missed the irreverent doom
Of those that wear the poet's crown :
Hereafter, neither knave nor clown

Shall hold their orgies at your tomb.

For now the poet cannot die,
Nor leave his music as of old,
But round him ere he scarce be cold

Begins the scandal and the cry :

" Give out the faults he would not show!
Break lock and sea ! betray the trust !
Keep nothing sacred : 't is but just
The many-headed beast should know."

Ah, shameless ! for he did but sing
A song that pleased us from its worth ;
No public life was his on earth,

No blazoned statesman he, nor king.

He gave the people of his best :

His worst he kept, his best he gave...
My curse upon the clown and knave

Who will not let his ashes rest !

94 MONUMENTS TO LITERARY MEN.

Who make it sweeter seem to be
The little life of bank and brier,
The bird that pipes his lone desire

And dies unheard within his tree,

Than he that warbles long and loud
And drops at glory's temple-gates,
For whom the carrion vulture waits

To tear his heart before the crowd !

ALFRED TENNYSON.'

"Wordsworth's estimation and hopes of the genius of Tennyson
will be found expressed in a letter dated July 1; 1845, in chapter
LIX. of this volume. — H. R.]

CHAPTER XXXIX.

PETER BELL. THE WAGGONER. SONNETS ON THE

DUDDON.

I

IN the year 1819 appeared the poem of ' Peter Bell ' l
dedicated to Mr. Southey. As has been already men-
tioned, it was written nearly twenty years before. The
occasion of its composition has been also described. The
nature of its reception is intimated in the Sonnet,2

< A book came fort of late called " Peter Bell." '

The Poet does not set his own claims very high, when he
suggests that the censure which followed it was not more
deserved than that which attended the publication with
which it is paralleled, Milton's 'Apology for Divorce.'

However, this detraction does not appear to have been
very injurious. It is somewhat remarkable that ' Peter
Bell ' was more in request than any of the author's pre-
vious publications.* An edition of 500 copies was printed

1 Vol. ii. p. 220. 2 Vol. ii. p. 269.

* [See Vol. i. Chap. HI. of these ' Memoirs.' — Coleridge, in
the account which he has given of his friend, Captain Sir Alexan-
der Ball, says, ' The only poetical composition, of which I have
ever heard him speak, was a manuscript poem ["Peter Bell "] writ-
ten by one of my friends, which I read to his lady in his presence.
To my surprise he afterwards spoke of this with warm interest;
but it was evident to me, that it was not so much the poetic merit

96 SONNETS ON THE DUDDON.

in April, 1819, and a reimpression of it was required in
the month of May in the same year. ' The Waggoner,' 1
published at the same time, was not so successful. This
poem has a local interest, which endears it to the inhab-
itants of the Lake District, at the same time that others,
who are unacquainted with that region, can hardly be
expected to appreciate it in the same degree.*

Another poem, published about the same time, is con-
nected with the same picturesque district, the ' Sonnets on
the River Duddon,'2 f which has its main source in the
mountain range near the ' Three Shire Stones,' as they
are called, where the three counties, Cumberland, West-
moreland, and Lancashire, meet. It flows to the south,
through the Vale of Seathwaite, by Broughton, to the
Duddon Sands, and into the Irish Sea.

This series of Sonnets is introduced by some very
pleasing stanzas addressed to the author's brother, the

of the composition that had interested him, as the truth and psy-
chological insight with which it represented the practicability of
reforming the most hardened minds, and the various accidents
which may awaken the most brutalized person to a recognition of
his nobler being.' < The Friend,' Vol. in. p. 240, edit. 1837. The
first edition of 'Peter Sell ' is illustrated with an engraving from
a picture by Sir George Beaumont. — 11. R.]

* [See Vol. i. Chap. xxiv. of these ' Memoirs,' and also Chap. LI.,
in this volume, and note at the end of the same chapter. — H. R.]

•f [This publication was in 1820 with the title < THE RIVER
DUDDON, a series of Sonnets : VAUDRACOUR AND JULIA, and other
Poems ; to which is annexed a Topographical Description of the
Country of the Lakes, in the North of England. London, 1820.'
This publication, with the ' Thanksgiving Ode/ ' Peter Bell,' and
1 The Waggoner,' formed the third and last volume of the author's
Miscellaneous Poems — in continuation with the two volumes
published in 1815, — H. R.]

1 Vol. ii. p. 68. 2 * Vol. iii. p. 198.

SONNETS ON THE DUDDON. 97

Rev. Dr. Wordsworth, who was at that time rector of the
large and populous parish of Lambeth ; and to him these
Sonnets, ' called forth by one of the most beautiful streams
of his native country, are inscribed by his affectionate
brother.' These prefatory stanzas open with a description
of a Christmas night-scene at Rydal Mount, when the vil-
lage minstrels played their serenade at the Poet's threshold,
and welcomed by name every inmate of the house :

' The greeting given, the music played,
In honour of each household name
Duly pronounced with lusty call,
And " Merry Christmas ! " wished to all.'

The effect of this appeal on those within the house is
described with tenderness and pathos:

' The mutual nod, the grave disguise
Of hearts with gladness brimming o'er,
And some unbidden tears, that rise
For names once heard, — and heard no more ! '

This rural scene is contrasted with the occupations of
the busy city, in whose suburbs his brother dwelt, and
with the cares of his arduous life :

' 0 Brother ! I revere the choice
That took thee from thy native hills ;
And it is given thee to rejoice,
Though public care full often tills'
(Heaven only witness of the toil)
A barren and ungrateful soil.'

And he expresses a hope that his brother may derive
refreshment, amid his parochial duties, from recollections
of natural beauty and rural usages —

' If thee fond Fancy ever brought
From the proud margin of the Thames
And Lambeth's venerable towers,
To humbler streams and greener bowers ; '

VOL. II. 7

98 SONNETS ON THE DUDDON.

and that the poem, which displays, as it were, a series of
landscapes drawn on the banks of the Duddon, may exer-
cise a soothing and exhilarating influence on his brother's
mind,

' While the imperial city's din
Beats frequent on his satiate ear ; '

an anticipation this, which was fully realized. Often did
the rector of Lambeth resort for refreshment to the pages
of the poet of Rydal. And though the occupations of
the two brothers were very different ; though their literary
habits were very various, William being a reader of na-
ture rather than books, and his brother being almost with-
out a rival among his contemporaries for knowledge of
books, particularly in theology and in some departments
of history ; and though their opportunities of personal in-
tercourse were rare ; yet by means of the Poet's writings
they held frequent intellectual and spiritual converse
together ; and in one of his latest years, Dr. Wordsworth
expressed his own appreciation of his brother's qualities
by the following short note, written in pencil in a copy of
the Poet's works : ' In diction, in nature, in grace, in
truth, in variety, in purity, in philosophy, in morals, in
piety, does he not surpass all our writers ? '

To return to the Duddon. The author communicated
the following reminiscences on this subject. 1

The River Duddon. — 'It is with the little River Duddon
as it is with most other rivers, Ganges and Nile not ex-
cepted, — many springs might claim the honour of being
its head. In my own fancy, I have fixed its rise near
the noted Shire Stones placed at the meeting point of
the counties Westmoreland, Cumberland, and Lancashire.
They stand by the wayside, on the top of the Wry-nose

1 MSS. I. F.

SONETS ON THE DI7DDON. 99

Pass, and it used to be reckoned a proud thing to say,
that by touching them at the same time with feet and
hands, one had been in three counties at once. At what
point of its course the stream takes the name of Duddon,
I do not know. I first became acquainted with the Dud-
don, as I have good reason to remember, in early boy-
hood. Upon the banks of the Derwent, I had learnt to be
very fond of angling. Fish abound in that large river, —
not so in the small streams in the neighbourhood of
Hawkshead ; and I fell into the common delusion, that
the further from home the better sport would be had.
Accordingly, one day I attached myself to a person living
in the neighbourhood of Hawkshead, who was going to
try his fortune, as an angler, near the source of the Dud-
don. We fished a great part of the day with very sorry
success, the rain pouring torrents ; and long before we
got home, I was worn out with fatigue ; and if the good
man had not carried me on his back, I must have lain
down under the best shelter I could find. Little did I
think then it would have been my lot to celebrate, in a
strain of love and admiration, the stream which for many
years I never thought of without recollections of disap-
pointment and distress.

' During my college vacation, and two or three years
afterwards, before taking my bachelor's degree, I was sev-
eral times resident in the house of a near relative, who
lived in the small town of Broughton. I passed many
delightful hours upon the banks of this river, which be-
comes an estuary about a mile from that place. The
remembrances of that perigd are the subject of the 21st
Sonnet. The subject of the 27th Sonnet is, in fact, taken
from a tradition belonging to Rydal Hall, which once
stood, as is believed, upon a pretty and woody hill on the
right hand as you go from Rydal to Ambleside, and was

100 SONNETS ON THE DUDDON.

deserted, from the superstitious fear here described, and
the present site fortunately chosen instead. The present
Hall was erected by Sir Michael le Fleming, and it may
be hoped that at some future time there will be an edifice
more worthy of so beautiful a position. With regard to
the 30th Sonnet, it is odd enough that this imagination was
realized in the year 1840, when I made a tour through
this district with my wife and daughter, Miss Fenwick and
her niece, and Mr. and Miss Quillinan.

4 1 have many affecting remembrances connected with
this stream. These I forbear to mention, especially things
that occurred on its banks during the latter part of that
visit to the sea-side, of which the former part is detailed
in my Epistle to Sir George Beaumont.'

Mr. Wordsworth gave the following notices of his latter
excursion to the banks of the Duddon, in a letter to Lady
Frederick Bentinck.

1 You will have wondered, dear Lady Frederick, what is
become of me. I have been wandering about the country,
and only returned yesterday. Our tour was by Keswick,
Scale Hill, Buttermere, Loweswater, Ennerdale, Calder
Abbey, Wastdale, Eskdale, the Vale of Duddon, Brough-
ton, Furness Abbey, Peele Castle, Ulverston, &c. ; we had
broken weather, which kept us long upon the road, but we
had also very fine intervals, and I often wished you had
been present. We had such glorious sights ! One, in
particular, I never saw the like of. About sunset we were
directly opposite that large, lofty precipice at Wastwater,
which is called the Screes. The ridge of it is broken
into sundry points, and along ihem, and partly along the
side of the steep, went driving a procession of yellow va-
poury clouds from the sea-quarter towards the mountain
Scawfell. Their colours I have called yellow, but it was
exquisitely varied, and the shapes of the rocks on the

SONNETS ON THE DUDDON. 101

summit of the ridge varied with the density or thinness of
the vapours. The effect was most enchanting ; for right
above was steadfastly fixed a beautiful rainbow. We
were a party of seven, Mrs. Wordsworth, my daughter,
and Miss Fenwick included, and it would be difficult to
say who was most delighted. The Abbey of Furness, as
you well know, is a noble ruin, and most happily situated
in a dell that entirely hides it from the surrounding
country. It is taken excellent care of, and seems little
dilapidated since I first knew it, more than half a cen-
tury ago.'

CHAPTER XL.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT.

EARLY in the year 1822, Mr. Wordsworth published an
octavo volume of Sonnets and other poems, suggested by
a tour made in 1820, and entitled ' Memorials of a Tour
on the Continent.' 1

4 1 set out,' he says,2 ' in company with my wife and
sister, and Mr. and Mrs. Monkhouse, then just married,
and Miss Horrocks. These two ladies, sisters, we left at
Berne, while Mr. Monkhouse took the opportunity of
making an excursion with us among the Alps, as far as
Milan. Mr. H. C. Robinson joined us at Lucerne ; and
when this ramble was completed, we rejoined at Geneva
the two ladies we had left at Berne, and proceeded to
Paris, where Mr. Monkhouse and H. C. R. left us, and
where we spent five weeks, of which there is not a record
in these poems.'

Let me introduce here two letters addressed by Mr.
Wordsworth to the Earl of Lonsdale, which will give a
general outline of this tour.

To the Earl of Lonsdale.

'Lucerne, Aug. 19, 1820.
* My Lord,

1 You did me the honour of expressing a wish to hear
from me during my continental tour ; accordingly, I have

1 Vol. iii. p. Ill - 141. 2 MSS. I. F.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR. 103

great pleasure in writing from this place, where we arrived
three days ago. Our route has lain through Brussels,
Namur, along the banks of the Meuse, to Liege ; thence
to Aix-la-Chapelle, Cologne, and along the Rhine to
Mayence, to Frankfort, Heidelberg (a noble situation, at
the point where the Neckar issues from steep lofty hills
into the plain of the Rhine,) Carlsruhe, and through the
Black Forest to SchafFhausen ; thence to Zurich, Bern,
Thun, Interlachen. Here our Alpine tour might be said
to commence, which has produced much pleasure thus far,
and nothing that deserves the name of difficulty, even for
the ladies. From the Valley of Lauterbrunnen we crossed
the Weigern Alp to Grindelwald, and then over the grand
Sheideck to Meyringen. This journey led us over high
ground, and for fifteen leagues along the base of the
loftiest Alps, which reared their bare or snow-clad ridges
and pikes, in a clear atmosphere, with fleecy clouds now
and then settling upon and gathering round them. We
heard and saw several avalanches ; they are announced
by a sound like thunder, but more metallic and musical.
This warning naturally makes one look about, and we had
the gratification of seeing one falling, in the shape and
appearance of a torrent or cascade of foaming water,
down the deep worn crevices of the steep or perpendicular
granite mountains. Nothing can be more awful than the
sound of these cataracts of ice and snow thus descending,
unless it be the silence which succeeds. The elevations
from which we beheld these operations of nature, and saw
such an immense range of primitive mountains stretching
to the east and west, were covered with rich pasturage
and beautiful flowers, among which was abundance of the
monkshood, a flower which I had never seen but in the
trim borders of our gardens, and which here grew not so
much in patches as in little woods or forests, towering

104 MEMOKIALS OF A TOUR

above the other plants. At this season the herdsmen are
with their cattle in still higher regions than those which
we have trod, the herbage where we travelled being re-
served till they descend in the autumn. We have visited
the Abbey of Engelberg, not many leagues from the
borders of the Lake of Lucerne. The tradition is, that
the site of the abbey was appointed by angels, singing
from a lofty mountain that rises from the plain of the
valley, and which, from having been thus honoured, is
called Engelberg, or the Hill of the Angels. It is a glo-
rious position for such beings, and I should have thought
myself repaid for the trouble of so long a journey by the
impression made upon my mind, when I first came in view
of the vale in which the convent is placed, and of the
mountains that enclose it. The light of the sun had left
the valley, and the deep shadows spread over it height-
ened the splendour of the evening light, and spread upon
the surrounding mountains, some of which had their sum-
mits covered with pure snow ; others were half hidden by
vapours rolling round them ; and the Rock of Engelberg
could not have been seen under more fortunate circum-
stances, for masses of cloud glowing with the reflection
of the rays of the setting sun were hovering round it,
like choirs of spirits preparing to settle upon its venerable
head.

'To-day we quit this place to ascend the mountain
Righi. We shall be detained in this neighbourhood till
our passports are returned from Berne, signed by the
Austrian minister, which we find absolutely necessary to
enable us to proceed into the Milanese. At the end of
five weeks at the latest, we hope to reach Geneva, return-
ing by the Simplon Pass. There I might have the pleasure
of hearing from your Lordship ; and may I beg that you
would not omit to mention our Westmoreland politics.

ON THE CONTINENT. 105

The diet of Switzerland is now sitting in this place. Yes-
terday I had a long conversation with the Bavarian envoy,
whose views of the state of Europe appear to me very
just. This letter must unavoidably prove dull to your
Lordship, but when I have the pleasure of seeing you, I
hope to make some little amends, though I feel this is a
very superficial way of viewing a country, even with
reference merely to the beauties of nature. We have not
met with many English ; there is scarcely a third part as
many in the country as there was last year. A brother of
Lord Grey is in the house where we now are, and Lord
Ashburton left yesterday. I must conclude abruptly, with
kindest remembrances to Lady Lonsdale and Lady Mary.
Believe me, my Lord, most faithfully

4 Your Lordship's

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

'Paris, Oct. 7, [1820], 45, Rue Chariot,

Boulevards du Temple.
4 My Lord,

' I had the honour of writing to your Lordship from
Lucerne, 19th of August, giving an account of our
movements. We have visited, since, those parts of Swit-
zerland usually deemed most worthy of notice, and the
Italian lakes, having stopped four days at Milan, and as
many at Geneva. With the exception of a couple of
days on the Lake of Geneva, the weather has been most
favourable, though frequently during the last fortnight
extremely cold. We have had no detention from illness,
nor any bad accident, for which we feel more grateful, on
account of some of our fellow-travellers, who accidentally
joined us for a few days. Of these, one, an American
gentleman,* was drowned in the Lake of Zurich, by the

* [Frederick William Goddard, of Boston. See l Elegiac Stan-
zas ' in the ' Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820,' Vol.

106 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR

upsetting of a boat in a storm, two or three days after he
parted with us ; and two others, near the summit of Mount
Jura, and in the middle of a tempestuous night, were pre-
cipitated, they scarcely knew how far, along with one of
those frightful and ponderous vehicles, a continental dili-
gence. We have been in Paris since Sunday last, and
think of staying about a fortnight longer, as scarcely less
will suffice for even a hasty view of the town and neigh-
bourhood. We took Fontainebleau in our way, and intend
giving a day to Versailles. The day we entered Paris we
passed a well-drest young man and woman, dragging a
harrow through a field, like cattle ; nevertheless, working
in the fields on the sabbath day does not appear to be
general in France. On the same day a wretched looking
person begged of us, as the carriage was climbing a hill.
Nothing could exceed his transport in receiving a pair of
old pantaloons which were handed out of the carriage.
This poor mendicant, the postilion told us, was an ancien
Cure. The churches seem generally falling into decay in
the country. We passed one which had been recently
repaired. I have noticed, however, several young persons,
men as well as women, earnestly employed in their devo-
tions, in different churches, both in Paris and elsewhere.
Nothing which I have seen in this city has interested me
at all like the Jardin des Plantes, with the living animals,
and the Museum of Natural History which it includes.
Scarcely could I refrain from tears of admiration at the
sight of this apparently boundless exhibition of the won-
ders of the creation. The statues and pictures of the
Louvre affect me feebly in comparison. The exterior of

iii. p. 143, for some further particulars given by Wordsworth
respecting his travelling companionship with the young American,
and the lament over his untimely death. — H. n.l

ON THE CONTINENT.

Paris is much changed since I last visited it in 1792. I
miss many ancient buildings, particularly the Temple,
where the poor king and his family were so long confined.
That memorable spot, where the Jacobin Club was held,
has also disappeared. Nor are the additional buildings
always improvements; the Pont des Arts, in particular,
injures the view from the Pont Neuf greatly ; but in these
things public convenience is the main point.

4 1 say nothing of public affairs, for I have little oppor-
tunity of knowing anything about them. In respect to
the business of our Queen, we deem ourselves truly
fortunate in having been out of the country at a time
when an inquiry, at which all Europe seems scandalized,
was going on.

4 1 have purposely deferred congratulating your Lordship
on the marriage of Lady Mary with Lord Frederick Ben-
tinck, which I hear has been celebrated. My wishes for
her happiness are most earnest.

4 With respectful compliments and congratulations to
Lady Lonsdale, in which Mrs. Wordsworth begs leave to
join,

4 1 have the honour to be,
4 My Lord,

4 Your Lordship's
obliged and faithful friend cuid servant,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

It is not my intention to insert a detailed narrative of
this tour. The ground which the travellers traversed is
the high road of Europe, and the Poet's 4 Memorials'
record what struck him most: they are his Journal, pub-
lished by himself.

Suffice it to say, that the travellers left Dover for
CALAIS on July llth, 1820. The principal places visited

108 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR

in their route were as follows, as recorded by two Journals
kept by two of the party.

Gravelines, Dunkirk, July 13. Furnes, Ghistelle,
BRUGES (I mark with CAPITALS those places which called
forth poetical effusions).

1 Bruges I saw attired with golden light
Streamed from the west.'

The venerable churches and other eccleciastical build-
ings ; and the ' forms of nun-like females with soft motion
gliding ' through their long avenues ; and the general
aspect of the place, solemn as ' if the streets were conse-
crated ground,' and ' the city one vast temple,' enchanted
the tourists. Thence they proceeded to Ghent, July 15.
Here, says the journalist, William ended his observations
'with a view from the top of*the cathedral,' his usual
practice when possible.

From Brussels they visited the field of WATERLOO, and
thence to NAMUR, July 18. On this part of the tour,
Mr. Wordsworth thus speaks — Sonnet V. Between
Namur and Liege. c The scenery on the Meuse pleases
me more, upon the whole, than that of the Rhine, though
the river itself is much inferior in grandeur. The rocks,
both in form and colour, especially between Namur and
Huy, surpass any upon the Rhine, though they are in sev-
eral places disfigured by quarries, whence stones were
taken for the new fortifications. This is much to be
regretted, for they are useless, and the scars will remain,
perhaps, for thousands of years. A like injury to a still
greater degree has been inflicted, in my memory, upon
the beautiful rocks at Clifton, on the banks of the Avon.
There is probably in existence a very long letter of mine
to Sir Uvedale Price, in which was given a description of

ON THE CONTINENT.

the landscapes on the Meuse as compared with those on
the Rhine.' J

LIEGE, AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, Juliers, Bergheim, COLOGNE,
July 20. Hence they proceeded in a i carriage on the
banks of the Rhine,' 2 to Bonn, Andernach, Coblentz,
July 22. Ehrenbreitstein, Boppard, St. Goar, Bingen,
July 25. Mayence, Wiesbaden, Frankfort, Darmstadt,
HEIDELBERG, and its RAPIDS, Carlsruhe, Baden-Baden,
Offenberg, Haslach, the SOURCE of the DANUBE, Blom-
berg, SCHAFFHAUSEN, Aug. 1. Zurich, Lenzberg, Mur-
, genthal, Baden, Bern, Thun, MONUMENT to ALOYS REDING,
Interlachen, Aug. 8. STAUBBACH, LAUTERBRUNNEN, Grin-
delwald, Meyringen, FALLS of the AAR, Handeck, Lake
of BRIENTZ, back to Meyringen, Sarnen, ENGELBERG,
Stanz, Lucerne ; long covered bridge ; model of Alpine
country. Here they were met by Mr. H. C. Robinson,
Aug. 16. Ascend the RIGHI, Aug. 19, with Mr. F. W.
GODDARD ; i Our Lady of the Snow.' Goldau, Sieven,
SCHWYTZ, Fluelan, Head of Uri, ALTORF, Amstag, Wasen,
Hospice on ST. GOTHARD, 4 Ranz des Vaches,' Airolo,
Aug. 25. Bellinzona, Aug. 26. Locarno, Lugano, ' Church
of San-Salvador,' Cadenabbia, Bellaggio, Aug. 30. The
lines suggested by this church,3 and those ' composed in
one of the Roman Catholic cantons'4 of Switzerland,5
supply wise and charitable admonitions to the tourist, and
may enable him to elicit spiritual gratification and con-

1 Inquiry has been made for this letter, but, as yet, without
success.

2 Vol. ii.p. 115.

3 Vol. ii. p. 127.

4 In the first edition these two poems stood as one : the reader
will easily perceive the reason of the severance.

5 Vol. ii. p. 119.

HO MEMORIALS OF A TOUR

solation from objects which are fraught with edification to
the wayfarer who contemplates them aright.

1 Hail to the firm unmoving cross,
Aloft, where pines their branches toss !
And to the chapel far withdrawn,
That lurks by lonely ways.

' Where'er we roam — along the brink
Of Rhine, or by the sweeping Po,
Through Alpine vale, or champaign wide,
Whate'er we look on, at our side
Be CHARITY, to bid us think
And feel, if we would know.'

Another admonition is offered in this poem. Although
the country through which the traveller passed be not con-
secrated by any outward emblems of religion, yet, says
the poet, let the natural objects which he sees be contem-
plated with an inward sense of devotion :

' Cliffs, fountains, rivers, seasons, times,
Let all remind the soul of heaven ;
Our slack devotion needs them all ;
And Faith — so oft of sense the thrall,
While she by help of Nature climbs,
May hope to be forgiven.'

Their course next lay towards COMO. The tourists
proceeded to Milan, FORT FUENTES, Lugano, Luvino,
Baveno, Lago Maggiore, Aug. 27. Duomo d'Ossola,
SIMPLON, Brieg, GEMMI, Sion, Martigny, by the Col de
Baume to Chamouny, Sept. 17. Trientz, Martigny, Vil-
leneuve, Sept. 19. Vevay, Lausanne, Sept. 21. Geneva,
Dijon, Fontainebleau, Oct. 1, and so to Paris where the
travellers arrived Oct. 1. They remained at Paris till
Oct. 28.

On Nov. 2 they embarked from BOULOGNE, in a small
vessel, in bad weather, the wind contrary. To quote the

ON THE CONTINENT. Ill

words of one of the Journals, ' A merciful Providence
saved us from great danger: the vessel struck upon a
sand- bank, was then driven with violence on a rocky road
in the harbour, where she was battered for a considerable
time ; but the tide was fast ebbing, and blessed be God for
our preservation.'

On the 7th they arrived safely at Dover; on the 9th
they were in London. Here they remained for the pleas-
ure of seeing Mr. Rogers, Charles Lamb and his sister,
the Lloyds, Mr. R. Sharp, Mr. Kenyon, Mr. Robinson,
Mr. Talfourd, and others.

On the 17th and 18th they were with their dear friends
at Hampstead Heath,1 whence Wordsworth walked to visit
Coleridge on the 18th.

On the '23d, Wordsworth, his wife and sister, left Lon-
don for Cambridge, to visit his brother, Dr. Wordsworth,
who had been promoted from the rectory of Lambeth to
the mastership of Trinity College, in the summer of 1820.
They remained his guests till the 6th December, and then
proceeded to visit Sir George and Lady Beaumont at
Coleorton, where they remained till the 20th ; and on
Christmas Eve they arrived at Rydal Mount.

In the words of one of the journalists : ' On Thursday,
24th Dec.^we had the happiness to reach our own home,
finding our beloved sister (Sarah Hutcfyinson,) daughter,
dear Edith Southey, and all our good friends and neigh-
bours well, and rejoiced to see us.'

1 Mr., Mrs., and Miss Hoare.

CHAPTER XLI.

ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS. RYDAL CHAPEL.

IT has been mentioned in the last chapter that after his
return from the Continent in 1820, Wordsworth spent a
few days with his friends Sir George and Lady Beaumont
at Coleorton. Sir George was then about to build a new
church on his estate. The erection of a new church by
a country gentleman on his property was not so common
an event in those days as it has now become. This design
furnished the occasion for conversations on Church His-
tory, and, together with another circumstance specified
in the preface to those poems, led to the composition of
a series of ' Ecclesiastical Sonnets,' or i Ecclesiastical
Sketches ,' as they were originally entitled.

Ecclesiastical Sonnets. — ' My purpose,' said Mr. Words-
worth,1 ' in writing this series was, as much as possible, to
confine my view to the introduction, progress and opera-
tion of the CHURCH in ENGLAND, both previous and sub-
sequent to the reformation. The Sonnets were written
long before Ecclesiastical History and points of doctrine
had excited the interest with which they have been
recently investigated and discussed. The former par-
ticular is mentioned as an excuse for my having fallen
into error in respect to an incident which had been
selected as setting forth the height to which the power

1 MSS. I. F.

ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS. 113

of the Popedom over temporal sovereignty had attained,
and the arrogancy with which it was displayed. I allude
to the last sonnet but one in the first series, where Pope
Alexander the Third, at Venice, is described as setting
his foot on the neck of the Emperor Barbarossa. Though
this is related as a fact in history, I am told it is a mere
legend of no authority.1 Substitute for it an undeniable
truth, not less fitted for my purpose, namely, the penance
inflicted by Gregory the Seventh upon the Emperor
Henry the Fourth, at Canosa.

1 Before I conclude my notice of these Sonnets, let me
observe that the opinion I pronounced in favour of Laud
(long before the Oxford Tract movement), and which
had brought censure upon me from several quarters, is
not in the least changed. Omitting here to examine into
his conduct in respect to the persecuting spirit with which
he has been charged, I am persuaded that most of his
aims to restore spiritual practices which had been aban-
doned, were good and wise, whatever errors he might
commit in the manner he sometirr.es attempted to enforce
them. I firmly believe, that had not he, and others who
shared his opinions and felt as he did, stood up in opposition
to the reformers of that period1, it is questionable whether
the Church would ever have recovered its lost ground,
and become the blessing it now is, and will, I trust,
become in a still greater degree, both to those of its com-
munion, and those who unfortunately are separated from
it.'

1 saw the figure of a lovely maid : Sonnet I. Part. HI.
— ' When I came to this part of the series I had the dream

1 According to Baronius, the humiliation of the Emperor was a
voluntary act of prostration on his part. Ann. Eccl. ad Ann.
1177.

VOL. II. 8

114 ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS.

described in this -sonnet. The figure was that of my
daughter, and the whole passed exactly as here repre-
sented. The sonnet was composed on the middle road
leading from Grasmere to Ambleside : it was begun as I
left the last house in the vale, and finished, word for word
as it now stands, before I came in view of Rydal. I wish
I could say the same of the five or six hundred I have
written : most of them were frequently retouched in the
course of composition, and not a few laboriously.

4 1 have only further to observe, that the intended church
which prompted these Sonnets was erected on Coleorton
Moor, towards the centre of a very populous parish, be-
tween three and four miles from Ashby-de-la-Zouch, on
the road to Loughborough, and has proved, I believe, a
great benefit to the neighbourhood.'

Such were the words of the author in reference to these
Sonnets. Let me add, that some alterations and additions
have been made in the series since their first publication.
Of these changes I will record one, because, though it
concerns a single word, .yet it involves an important prin-
ciple. In reading these Sonnets, and also in perusing the
work of the author's friend referred to in the Preface,
Mr. Southey's ' Book of the Church,' the student of
Ecclesiastical History will probably be of opinion that it
might have been better if, — however imperfect some of
the instruments employed might be, — the English Refor-
mation had been there represented more clearly and fully
on the whole as a work of religious Restoration.

In Sonnet xxx. p. 73, of the first edition of the ' Eccle-
siastical Sketches,' speaking of the ' Reformers,' the
author says,

' With what entire affection did they prize
Their new-born Church ! ' '

1 Vol. ir. p. 96.

ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS. 115

The invidious inferences that would be drawn from this
epithet by the enemies of the English Church and Refor-
mation are too^pbvious to be dilated on. The author was
aware of this, and in reply to a friend who called his
attention to the misconstruction -and perversion to which
the passage was liable, he replied as follows :

'Nov. 12, 1846.
4 My dear C , •

* The passage which you have been so kind as to com-
ment upon in one of the " Ecclesiastical Sonnets," was
altered several years ago by my pen, in a copy of my
poems which I possess, but the correction was not printed
till a place was given it in the last edition, printed last
year, in one volume. It there stands,

" Their church reformed."

Though for my own part, as I mentioned some time since

in a letter I had occasion to write to the Bishop of ,

I do not like the term reformed ; if taken in its literal
sense, as a transformation, it is very objectionable.*

4 Yours affectionately,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The main additions in the later edition of the l Eccle-
siastical Sketches ' will be found in the Sonnets on the
Offices of the English Liturgy, and on the Aspect of

* [See also in the 'Postscript ' to the volume entitled ' Yarrow
Revisited, etc.' his remarks on fallacies arising from false uses of
the term 'Reform.' He there remarks — 'The great religious
Reformation in the sixteenth century did not profess to be a new
construction, but a restoration of something fallen into decay, or
put out of sight.' Vol. v. p. 266. — H. R.]

116 ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS.

Christianity in America.1 The subjects of these last, for
the most part, were suggested to the author by an eloquent,
learned, and zealous American prelate, Bishop Doane, and
by another of his most valued American friends, Profes-
sor Henry Reed, of Philadelphia : a fortunate suggestion.
The muse of Wordsworth could not be more appropriately
employed than in strengthening the bonds of amity sub-
sisting between England and America by means of spirit-
ual sympathies.2

1 Vol. iv. p. 106.

2 The Sonnet addressed to the Pennsylvanians (vol. iv. p. 261),
is of a different tone. But happily the language of expostulation
in which that Sonnet is written is no longer applicable. It will
be gratifying to Americans and Englishmen (indignos fraternum
rumpere foedus) to read the following particulars communicated
in a letter from Mr. Reed, dated October 28, 1850. 'In Mr.
Wordsworth's letters to me you will have observed that a good
deal is said on the Pennsylvania Loans, a subject in which, as
you are aware, he was interested for his friends rather than for
himself. Last December, when I learned that a new edition of
his poems was in press, I wrote to him (it was my last letter) to
"say frankly that his Sonnet " To Pennsylvanians" was no longer
just, and to desire him not to let it stand so for after-time. It was
very gratifying to me on receiving a copy of the new edition,
which was not till after his death, to find the "additional note" at
the end of the fifth volume, showing by its being printed on the
unusual place of a fly-leaf, that he had been anxious to attend to
such a request. It was characteristic of that righteousness which
distinguished him as an author ; and it has this interest (as I con-
jecture) that it was probably the last sentence he composed for the
press. It is chiefly on this account that I mention it to you.'
[The ' ADDITIONAL NOTE ' here referred to is as follows :

1 Vol. iv. Pages 261 and 292.
" Men of the Western World."

' I am happy to add that this anticipation is already partly re-
alized ; and that the reproach addressed to the Pennsylvanians in

ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS. 117

Connected with the * Ecclesiastical Sonnets,' as written
soon after them in 1823, and as indicating some of the
author's feelings on ecclesiastical affairs, are the two
poems l addressed to Lady le Fleming on the preparations
made for the erection, at her sole expanse, of the CHAPEL
at RYDAL, which was consecrated by Bishop Blomfield
(then Bishop of Chester) in 1825, and which was fre-
quented by Mr. Wordsworth and his family for a quarter
of a century.

Concerning these poems, and the chapel which sug-
gested them, Mr. Wordsworth made the following re-
marks : 2

To the Lady le Fleming. — c After thanking, in prose,
Lady Fleming for the service she has done to her neigh-
bourhood by erecting this chapel, I have nothing to say
beyond the expression of regret that the architect did not
furnish an elevation better suited to the site in a narrow
mountain-pass, and, what is more of consequence, better
constructed in the interior for the purposes of worship. It
has no chancel ; the altar is unbecomingly confined ; the
pews are so narrow as to preclude the possibility of kneel-

the next sonnet, is no longer applicable to them. I trust that
those other states to which it may yet apply, will soon follow the
example now set them in Philadelphia, and redeem their credit
with the world. — 1850.'

This note appears on a fly-leaf at the end of Vol. v. of the
edition of 1849-50.

It is not so much to gratify a personal feeling, as to show the
readiness with which Mr. Wordsworth received a suggestion, that
I mention here that it was also in consequence of the recommen-
dation of an American friend, that he turned his mind to the com-
pletion of the Sonnets upon the Liturgical services. See ia
Chap. LVII. his letter to H. R., dated Sept. 4, 1842. — H. R.]

1 Vol. v. pp. 25, 29. 2 MSS. I. F.

118 ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS.

ing ; there is no vestry ; and, what ought to have been
first mentioned, the font, instead of standing at its proper
place at the entrance, is thrust into the further end of a
little pew. When these defects shall have been pointed
out to the munificent patroness, they will, it is hoped, be
corrected.'

Mr. Wordsworth attended Rydal Chapel for the last time
on Sunday morning, March the 10th 1850. His seat and
the seats of his family are those which are nearest to the
pulpit. The lines addressed to Lady le Fleming breathe
a holy spirit of Christian piety and charity, and may serve,
for many generations, to impart additional interest and
fervour to the religious services of those who assemble
together for public worship in that modest house of
prayer.

CHAPTER XLII.

TOUR IN HOLLAND, ETC. 1823. TOUR IN NORTH WALES,

1824. TOUR ON THE RHINE, 1828.

IN May and June, 1823, Wordsworth and his wife made a
short tour in Belgium and Holland. He was then suffer-
ing acutely from a disorder in his eyes, and was in great
need of relaxation. They spent some time very agree-
ably with their friend and future son-in-law, Mr. Quillinan,
at Lee Priory, Kent, which they quitted on the 16th of
May for Dover. ' How strange,' he notes, 4 that the de-
scription of Dover Cliff, in " King Lear," should ever
have been supposed to have been meant for a reality ! I
know nothing that more forcibly shows the little reflec-
tion with which even men of sense read poetry. The
cliff cannot be more than 400 feet high ; and yet, " how
truly," exclaims the historian of Dover, " has Shakspeare,
described the precipice ! " How much 'better would the
historian have done, had he given us its actual elevation ! '
The route of the travellers was to Ostend, thence to
Bruges, 4 where,' says the journalist, 4 we ate rather a
melancholy repast ; the inflammation in. W.'s eyes was so
much aggravated by the heat and sad heart amid a bois-
terous company at the table d'hote. But, not to dwell
upon grievances, Bruges loses none of its attractions upon
a second visit.' They went by the barge to Ghent ; 4 a
charming conveyance, which seems to promise restoration

120 TOUR IN HOLLAND.

to our hopes, W. is so much better. Nothing can be more
refreshing than to float thus at ease, the awning screening
us from the sun, and the pleasant breeze fanning our
temples.'

From Ghent they proceeded by diligence to Antwerp.
' We there feasted our eyes upon those magnificent pic-
tures by Rubens in the Cathedral over and over again ;
and often was this great pleasure heightened almost to
rapture, when the full organ swelled and penetrated the
remotest corners of that stalely edifice ; here we were
never weary of lingering.'

It is worthy of remark, and the remark has been sug-
gested by the companion of his journey, that the Poet's
eyes, which were in a very irritable state when he left
England, appear to have been much benefited by looking
at pictures. These interested his mind ; and his mind
being engaged in contemplating beautiful objects, and
being refreshed by them, no longer brooded on his phys-
ical infirmity, which had inspired him with gloomy fore-
bodings ; and so the ailment itself, which had been
aggravated by the mental reaction upon it, gradually
subsided, and at length vanished.

On the 24th of May they left Antwerp by diligence for
Breda, which looked well by moonlight, and reached Dort
at half-past six. A. M., where they ascended the church-
tower to enjoy the extensive view, and thence proceeded
to Rotterdam.

' The fine statue of Erasmus, rising silently with eyes
fixed upon his book above the noisy crowd gathered round
the booths and vehicles which upon the market-day beset
him, and backed by buildings and trees intermingled with
the fluttering pennons from vessels unlading their several
cargoes into the warehouses, produces a very striking
contrast.'

TOUR IN HOLLAND. 121

From Rotterdam they went in a barge to the pretty
town of Delf ; passed the spire of Ryswick on the left,
and so by water to the Hague. t Immediately after tea
we walked to the wood in which stands the palace —
charming promenades, pools of water, swans, stately
trees, birds warbling, military music. The streets of the
Hague similar to those at Delf. Screens of trees, some-
times on one side, generally on both sides of the canal.

Bridges at convenient distances across Looked

with interest on the spot where the De Witts were mas-
sacred. . . . Horse-chestnut trees in flower everywhere.
Thence to Leyden and Haarlem, where 4 we mount the
tower of the cathedral : a splendid and interesting view
beyond any we have seen. Looking eastward, the canal
stretching through houses and among the trees, to the spires
of Amsterdam in the distance. A little to the right, the
Mere of Haarlem spotted with vessels ; the river winding
among the streets through the town. Steeple towers of
Utrecht beyond the Mere. The Boss, a fine wood and
elegant mansion, now a royal residence. Neukirk, fine
tower. The sea and sand-hills beyond the flats, glowing
under a dazzling western sky. The winding Spar, again
among green fields, brings the eye round to the Amster-
dam canal, along which we shall glide.'

On the 31st of May c we set out at nine, A. M. for Am-
sterdam in a schipper to peep into North Holland. Pass
dwellings of reeds loosely- put together like ill-made
stacks of straw. Disembark at the village of Bucksloot ;
proceed, with a guide, on foot to Brock. After walking
an hour by side of the canal on a good road through a
trad of peat-mossy, rich pasturage, besprinkled with
cattle, and bounded by a horizon broken by spires,
steeple-towers, villages, scattered farms, and the unfailing
windmill seen single, or in pairs, or clustered, — we are

122 TOUR IN HOLLAND.

now seated beneath the shelter of a friendly windmill, the
north wind bracing us, and the swallows twittering under
a cloudless grey sky over our heads.

4 At some little distance the canal spreads into a circular
basin, upon the opposite margin of which stands the
quaintly drest little town of Brock ; the church spire rises
from amid elegantly neat houses, chiefly of wood, much
carved and ornamented, and covered with glazed tiles: a
most curious place. In each of these houses is a certain
elaborately adorned door, by which at their weddings the
newly married pair enter ; it is then closed, and never
opened again till the man or his wife is carried out a
corpse. The streets are paved with tiles, of various
colours, in patterns. The beds of the gardens quaintly
shaped with perfect uniformity : poeonies, wall-flowers,
and rich stocks were the prevailing flowers. One garden,
which we visited, was composed of box-trees cut into
divers shapes of birds, quadrupeds, a mermaid, towers, a
ladder, &c. Went into the church — a mirror of cleanli-
ness : the name of each person on his brightly rubbed
chair, to which appertained the footstool with an earthen
pot containing ashes.'

On June 1st they had a second delightful excursion to
Sardan, another North Holland town, where they ' visited
the hut and workshop in which Peter the Great had
wrought as a carpenter.' c A charming little town, seated
more than half round a circular bay, like Brock, but upon
a much larger scale ; and though one of its inhabitants
characterized Brock very aptly as " a little cabinet," we
were even more pleased with Sardan. . . . Returned to
Amsterdam, where,7 says the journalist, 4 1 would not live
to be queen of Holland ; yet she is mistress of the most
magnificent palace I ever saw.'

From Amsterdam the travellers returned by Utrecht and

TOUR IN HOLLAND. 123

Breda to Antwerp, and by Brussels, Bruges, Calais to
Dover, where they landed on the 1 1th of June, returning
to Lee Priory for some days. ' Adventures,' concludes
the Journal, 4 we have had none. W.'s eyes being so
much disordered, made him shun society, and the same
cause crippled us in many respects, but we have stored up
thoughts and images that will not die.'

Wordsworth had now the satisfaction of finding that his
poetical reputation was gradually rising without any influ-
ences besides those of its own inherent merits. On the
contrary, with many powerful prejudices and parties
arrayed against it, his poetry was making slow but sure
progress. Southey writes thus, at this time, to an Ameri-
can friend, the historian of Spanish literature, George
Ticknor, Esq. :

To George Ticknor, Esq.1

'Kesrvick, July 16, 1823.

4 Coleridge talks of bringing out his work upon logic, of
collecting his poems, and of adapting his translation of
Wallenstein for the stage, Kean having taken a fancy to
exhibit himself in it. Wordsworth is just returned from a
trip to the Netherlands : he loves rambling, and has no
pursuits which require him to be stationary. I shall prob-
ably see him in a few days. Every year shows more and
more, how strongly his poetry has leavened the rising gen-
eration.* Your mocking-bird is said to improve the strain
which he imitates ; this is not the case with ours.'

1 From Southey's Life and Correspondence, vol. v. p. 142.

* [And Allston, writing from America a few years earlier, says,
' Perhaps it may be gratifying to Mr. Wordsworth to know that
he has a great many warm admirers on this side of the Atlantic,

124 TOUR IN NORTH WALES.

At the end of the summer of the following year, 1824,
Wordsworth made a short excursion in North Wales, of
which the following sketch is given in a letter to Sir
George Beaumont.

1 Hindrvell, Radnor, Sept. 20, 1824.
' My dear Sir George,

' After a three weeks' ramble in North Wales, Mrs.
Wordsworth, Dora, and myself are set down quietly here
for three weeks more. The weather has been delightful,
and everything to our wishes. On a beautiful day we
took the steam-packet at Liverpool, passed the mouth of
the Dee, coasted the extremity of the Vale of Clwyd,
sailed close under Great Orm's Head, had a noble pros-
pect of Penmaenmawr, and having almost touched upon
Puffin's Island, we reached Bangor Ferry, a little after six
in the afternoon.- We admired the stupendous prepara-
tions for the bridge over the Menai ; and breakfasted next
morning at Carnarvon. We employed several hours in
exploring the interior of the noble castle, and looking at
it from different points of view in the neighbourhood. At
half-past four we departed for Llanberris, having fine views
as we looked back of C. Castle, the sea, and Anglesey.
A little before sunset we came in sight of Llanberris Lake,
Snowdon, and all the craggy hills and mountains surround-
ing it ; the foreground a beautiful contrast to this grandeur
and desolation — a green sloping hollow, furnishing a
shelter for one of the most beautiful collections of lowly

in spite of the sneers of the Edinburgh Review, which, with the
Quarterly, is reprinted and as much read here as in England.
There is still taste enough amongst us to appreciate his merits.'
Letter to William Collins, R. A., dated « Boston, 16th April, 1819.'
' The Life of Collins,' Vol. i. p. 141. — H. R.]

TOUR IN NORTH WALES. 125

Welsh cottages, with thatched roofs, overgrown with plants,
anywhere to be met with : the hamlet is called Cum-y-glo.
And here we took boat, while the solemn lights of even-
ing were receding towards the tops of the mountains. As
we advanced, Dolbardin Castle came in view, and Snow-
don opened upon our admiration. It was almost dark
when we reached the quiet and comfortable inn at Llan-
berris.

• •••••

4 There being no carriage-road, we undertook to walk
by the Pass of Llanberris, eight miles, to Capel Cerig ;
this proved fatiguing, but it was the only oppressive exer-
tion we made during the course of our tour. We arrived
at Capel Cerig in time for a glance at the Snowdonian
range, from the garden of the inn, in connection with the
lake (or rather pool) reflecting the crimson clouds of
evening. The outline of Snowdon is perhaps seen no-
where to more advantage than from this place. Next
morning, five miles down a beautiful valley to the banks
of the Conway, which stream we followed to Llanrwst ;
but the day was so hot that we could only make use of the
morning and evening. Here we were joined, according
to previous arrangement, by Bishop Hobart, * of New
York, who remained with us till two o'clock next day, and
left us to complete his hasty tour through North and South

* [Bishop Hobart had, a few weeks before, made a visit, which
he thus speaks of in a letter dated August 29, 1824 — ' I passed
the whole of yesterday with Mr. Wordsworth, one of the cele-
brated Lake Poets, at his seat at Rydal Water, and have not
enjoyed a more delightful day since I left home. He was highly
interesting in his conversation, simple and affable in his man-
ners ; and both he and his family were kind and attentive to me
in the highest degree.' The Rev. Dr. Schroeder's ' Memorial of
Bishop Hobart,' p. 87. — H. R.]

126 TOUR IN NORTH WALES.

Wales. In the afternoon arrived my old college friend
and youthful companion among the Alps, the Rev. R.
Jones, and in his car we all proceeded to the falls of the
Convvay, thence up that river to a newly erected inn on
the Irish road, where we lodged ; having passed through
bold and rocky scenery along the banks of a stream which
is a feeder of the Dee. Next morning we turned from the
Irish road three or four miles to visit the " Valley of Medi-
tation" (Glyn Mavyr), where Mr. Jones has, at present, a
curacy, with a comfortable parsonage. We slept at Cor-
wen, and went down the Dee to Llangollen, which you
and dear Lady B. know well. Called upon the celebrated
Recluses,1 * who hoped that you and Lady B. had not for-
gotten them ; they certainly had not forgotten you, and
they begged us to say that they retained a lively remem-
brance of you both. We drank tea and passed a couple
of hours with them in the evening, having visited the
aqueduct over the Dee and Chirk Castle in the afternoon.
Lady E. has not been well, and has suffered much in her
eyes, but she is surprisingly lively for her years. Miss P.
is apparently in unimpaired health. Next day I sent them
the following sonnet from Ruthin, which was conceived,
and in a great measure composed, in their grounds.

" A stream, to mingle with your favourite Dee,
Along the Vah of Meditation flows ; 2
So named by those fierce Britons, pleased to see
In Nature's face the expression of repose/

&c. &c.

1 The Lady E. Butler, and the Hon. Miss Ponsonby.

2 Works, vol. ii. p. 301.

* [See Sir "Walter Scott's account of his visit to these Ladies in
the following year j Lockhart's « Life of Scott,' Chap. LXIU. Vol.
vni. p. 47. — H. R.]

TOUR IN NORTH WALES. 127

'We passed three days with Mr. J.'s1 friends in the
vale of Clwyd, looking about us, and on the Tuesday set
off again, accompanied by our friend, to complete our
tour. We dined at Conway, walked to Bennarth, the view
from which is a good deal choked up with wood. A small
part of the castle has been demolished for the sake of the
new road to communicate with the suspension bridge,
which they are about to make to the small island opposite
the castle, to be connected by a long embankment with
the opposite shore. The bridge will, I think, prove rather
ornamental when time has taken off the newness of its
supporting masonry ; but the mound deplorably impairs
the majesty of the water at high tide ; in fact it destroys
its lake-like appearance. Our drive to Aber in the

1 On this, one of the last occasions, on which Mr. Jones's name
will be referred to, it is due to his memory to insert the following
tribute from Mr. Wordsworth's pen.* ' This excellent person, one
of my earliest and dearest friends, died in the year 1835. We
were undergraduates together of the same year, at the same col-
lege ; and companions in many a delightful ramble through his
own romantic country of North Wales. Much of the latter part
of his life he passed in comparative solitude ; which I know was
often cheered by remembrance of our youthful adventures, and of
the beautiful regions which, at home and abroad, we had visited
together. Our long friendship was never subject to a moment's
interruption ; and while revising these volumes for the last time,
I have been so often reminded of my loss, with a not un pleasing
sadness, that I trust the reader will excuse this passing mention
of a man who well deserves from me something more than so
brief a notice. Let me only add, that during the middle part of
his life he resided many years (as incumbent of the living) at a
parsonage in Oxfordshire, which is the subject of the 7th of the
'Miscellaneous Sonnets,' Part 3.

*Vol. iii. p. 240.

128 TOUR IN NORTH WALES.

evening was charming ; sun setting in glory. We had
also a delightful walk next morning up the vale of Aber,
terminated by a lofty waterfall ; not much in itself, but
most striking as a closing accompaniment to the secluded
valley. Here, in the early morning, I saw an odd sight —
fifteen milk-maids together, laden with their brimming
pails. How cheerful and happy they appeared ! and not
a little inclined to joke after the manner of the pastoral
persons in Theocritus. That day brought us to Capel
Cerig again, after a charming drive up the banks of the
Ogwen, having previously had beautiful views of Bangor,
the sea, and its shipping. From Capel Cerig down the
justly celebrated vale of Nant Gvvynant to Bethgelart. In
this vale are two small lakes, the higher of which is the
only Welsh lake which has any pretensions to compare
with our own ; and it has one great advantage over them,
that it remains wholly free from intrusive objects. We
saw it early in the morning ; and with the greenness of
the meadows at its head, the steep rocks on one of its
shores, and the bold mountains at loth extremities, a
feature almost peculiar to itself, it appeared to us truly
enchanting. The village of Bethgelart is much altered
for the worse : new and formal houses have, in a great
measure, supplanted the old rugged and tufted cottages,
and a smart hotel has taken the lead of the lowly public
house in which I took refreshment almost thirty years ago,
previous to a midnight ascent to the summit of Snowdon.
At B. we were agreeably surprised by the appearance of
Mr. Hare, of New College, Oxford. We slept at Tan-y-
bylch, having employed the afternoon in exploring the
beauties of the vale of Festiniog. Next day to Barmouth,
whence, the following morning, we took boat and rowed
up its sublime estuary, which may compare with the finest
of Scotland, having the advantage of a superior climate.

TOUR IN NORTH WALES. 129

From Dolgelly we went to Tal-y-llyn, a solitary and very
interesting lake under Cader Idris. Next day, being Sun-
day, we heard service performed in Welsh, and in the
afternoon went part of the way down a beautiful valley to
Machynleth, next morning to Aberystwith, and up the
Rhydiol to the Devil's Bridge,1 where we passed the fol-
lowing day in exploring those two rivers, and Hafod in
the neighbourhood. I had seen these things long ago, but
"either my memory or my powers of observation had not
done them justice. Jt rained heavily in the night, and we
saw the waterfalls in perfection. While Dora was attempt-
ing to make a sketch from the chasm in the rain, I com-
posed by her side the following address to the torrent :

"How art thou named? In search of what strange land,
From what huge height descending ? Can such force
Of water issue from a British source ? "

1 Next day, viz. last Wednesday, we reached this place,
and found all our friends well, except our good and valu-
able friend, Mr. Monkhouse, who is here, and in a very
alarming state of health. His physicians have ordered
him to pass the winter in Devonshire, fearing a consump-
tion ; but he is certainly not suffering under a regular
hectic pulmonary decline : his pulse is good, so is his
appetite, and he has no fever, but is deplorably emaciated.
He is a near relation of Mrs. W., and one, as you know,
of my best friends. I hope to see Mr. Price, at Foxley,
in a few days. Mrs. W.'s brother is about to change his
present residence for a farm close by Foxley.

* Now, my dear Sir George, what chance is there of
your being in Wales during any part of the autumn ? I
would strain a point to meet you anywhere, were it only

1 Vol. ii. p. 301.
VOL. ii. 9

130 TOUR ON THE RHINE.

for a couple of days. Write immediately, or should you
be absent without Lady B. she will have the goodness to
tell me of your movements. I saw the Lowthers just be-
fore I set off, all well. You probably have heard from my
sister. It is time to make an end of this long letter,
which might have been somewhat less dry if I had not
wished to make you master of our whole route. Except
ascending one of the high mountains, Snowdon or Cader
Idris, we omitted nothing, and saw as much as the
shortened days would allow. With love to Lady B. and
yourself, dear Sir George, from us all, I remain, ever,
' Most faithfully yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

While on the subject of these tours, I may here add,
that in 18*28, Wordsworth and his daughter, having passed
some time in London with Mr. Quillinan, accompanied
Coleridge on an excursion through Belgium and up the
Rhine.

The ' Incident at Bruges,' l in which there is an allusion
to his daughter, the ' Maiden at his Side,' happened then.
To quote his words : 2

Incident at Bruges. — 'This occurred at Bruges in the
year 1828. Mr. Coleridge, my daughter, and I, made a
tour together in Flanders, upon the Rhine, and returned
by Holland. Dora and I, while taking a walk along a
retired part of the town, heard the voice as here described,
and were afterwards informed that it was a convent, in

1 See the Poem beginning :

' In Bruges town is many a street
Whence busy life has fled.' *
a MSS. I. F.

* Vol. iii. p. 112.

TOUR ON THE RHINE. 131

which were many English.^ We were both much touched,
I might say affected, and Dora moved as appears in the
verses.'

On the same excursion were suggested the beautiful
lines on a Jewish Family, seen in a small valley opposite
St. Goar1 — a group which

'cast

Around the dell a gleam

Of Palestine, of glory past,

And proud Jerusalem.'

Jewish Family. — 'Coleridge, and my daughter, and I,
in 18*28, passed a fortnight upon the banks of the Rhine,
principally under the hospitable roof of Mr. Aders of
Gotesberg ; but two days of the time were spent at St.
Goar, or in rambles among the neighbouring valleys. It
was at St. Goar that I saw the Jewish family here de-
scribed. Though exceedingly poor, and in rags, they
were not less beautiful than I have endeavoured to make
them appear. We had taken a little dinner with us in a
basket, and invited them to partake of it, which the mother
refused to do, both for herself and her children, saying,
it was with them a fast day ; adding, diffidently, that
whether such observances were right or wrong, she felt it
her duty to keep them strictly. The Je,ws, who are nu-
merous in this part of the Rhine, greatly surpass the
German peasantry in the beauty of their features, and in
the intelligence of their countenance. But the lower
classes of the German peasantry have, here at least, the
air of people grievously oppressed. Nursing mothers at
the age of seven or eight and twenty, often look haggard
and far more decayed and withered than women of Cum-
berland and Westmoreland twice their age. This comes

1 See the Poem beginning, ' Genius of Raphael,' vol. ii. p. 210.

132 TOUR ON THE RHINE.

from being underfed and overworked in their vineyards in
a hot and glaring sun.'

I will conclude this chapter by an extract from one of
his letters to a relative who had spent the summer ( 18*28)
in France, as it presents a view of his opinions on conti-
nental affairs at this period.

'Rydal Mount, Nov. 27, 1828.
1 My dear C ,

4 It gave me much pleasure to learn that your residence
in France had answered so well. As I had recommended
the step, I felt more especially anxious to be informed of
the result. I have only to regret that you did not tell me
whether the interests of a foreign country and a brilliant
metropolis had encroached more upon the time due to
academical studies than was proper.

1 As to the revolution which Mr. D calculates upon,

I agree with him that a great change must take place, but
not altogether, or even mainly, from the causes which he
looks to, if I be right in conjecturing that he expects that
the religionists, who have at present such influence over
the king's mind, will be predominant. The extremes to
which they wish to carry things are not sufficiently in the
spirit of the age to suit their purpose. The French
monarchy must undergo a great change, or it will fall
altogether. A constitution of government so dispropor-
tioned cannot endure. A monarchy, without a powerful
aristocracy or nobility graduating into a gentry, and so
downwards, cannot long subsist. This is wanting in
France, and must continue to be wanting till the restric-
tions imposed on the disposal of property by will, through
the Code Napoleon, are done away with : and it may be
observed, by the by, that there is a bareness, some would
call it a simplicity, in that code which unfits it for a com-

TOUR ON THE RHINE. 133

plex state of society like that of France, so that evasions
and stretchings of its provisions are already found neces-
sary, to a degree which will ere long convince the French
people of the necessity of disencumbering themselves of
it. But to return. My apprehension is, that for the cause
assigned, the French monarchy may fall before an aris-
tocracy can be raised to give it necessary support. The
great monarchies of Russia, Prussia, and Austria, having
not yet been subject to popular revolutions, are still able
to maintain themselves, through the old feudal forces and
qualities, with something, not much, of the feudal virtues.
This cannot be in France ; popular inclinations are much
too strong — thanks, I will say so far, to the Revolution.
How is a government fit for her condition to be supported,
but by religion, and a spirit of honour or refined con-
science ? Now religion, in a widely extended country
plentifully peopled, cannot be preserved from abuse of
priestly influence, and from superstition and fanaticism,
nor honour, be an operating principle upon a large scale,
except through property — that is, such accumulations of
it, graduated as I have mentioned above, through the
community. Thus and thus only can be had exemption
from temptation to low habits of mind, leisure for solid
education, and dislike to innovation, from a sense in the
several classes how much they have to Jose; for circum-
stances often make men wiser, or at least more discreet,
when their individual levity or presumption would dispose
them to be much otherwise. To what extent that constitu-
tion of character which is produced b,y property makes
up for the decay of chivalrous loyalty and strengthens
governments, may be seen by comparing the officers of
the English army with those of Prussia, &/c. How far
superior are ours as gentlemen ! so much so that British
officers can scarcely associate with those of the Continent,

134 TOUR ON THE RHINE.

not from pride, but instinctive aversion to their low pro-
pensities. But I cannot proceed, and ought, my dear

C , to crave your indulgence for so long a prose.

4 When you see Frere, pray give him my kind regards,
and say that he shall hear from me the first frank I can
procure. Farewell, with kindest love from all,

'Yours, very affectionately,

4 W. W.'

CHAPTER XLIII.

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

IN the ' advertisement ' prefixed to his Ecclesiastical
Sketches, Mr. Wordsworth states, that in the year 1820,
the Roman Catholic Relief Bill, as it was termed, which
was then under discussion, 4 kept his thoughts in a certain
direction,' viz. toward the History of the Church in Eng-
land, the subject treated by him in those Sonnets.

Among his papers are various letters, or portions of
letters, addressed to friends and public men in reference
to that question, down to the year 1829, when the 4 Roman
Catholic Relief Bill ' was passed.

One or two specimens of these shall be inserted here.

The following is to Mr. Southey :

* My dear S.,

1 1 am ashamed not to have done your message about
the Icon to my brother.1 I have no excuse, but that at
that time both my body and my memory were run off
their legs. I am very glad you thought the answer2
appeared to you triumphant, for it had struck me as, in
the main point, knowledge of the subject, and spirit in the

1 This refers to Dr. Wordsworth's volume on the authorship of
Ic6n BasiliM. Lond. 1824.

2 This alludes to Dr. Wordsworth's second publication, entitled,
' King Charles the First the Author of Ic6n Basilitt: Lond. 1828.

136 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

writing, and accuracy in the logic, as one of the best
controversial tracts I ever read.

' I am glad you have been so busy ; I wish I could say
so much of myself. I have written this last month, how-
ever, about 600 verses with tolerable success.

1 Many thanks for the Review : your article is excellent.
I only wish that you had said more of the deserts of gov-
ernment in respect to Ireland ; since I do sincerely believe
that no government in Europe has shown better disposi-
tions to its subjects than the English have done to the
Irish, and that no country has improved so much during
the same period. You have adverted to this part of the
subject, but not spoken so forcibly as I could have wished.
There is another point might be insisted upon more ex-
pressly than you have done — the danger, not to say the
absurdity, of Roman Catholic legislation for the property
of a Protestant church, so inadequately represented in
Parliament as ours is. The Convocation is gone ; cler-
gymen are excluded from the House of Commons ; and
the Bishops are at the beck of Ministers. I boldly ask
what real property of the country is so inadequately rep-
resented ? it is a mere mockery.

1 Most affectionately yours,

4\V. W.1

The following is to a much respected friend, G. Huntly
Gordon, Esq.

To G. Huntly Gordon, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, Thursday Night,
Feb. 26, 1829.

' You ask for my opinion on the Roman Catholic Ques-
tion.

4 1 dare scarcely trust my pen to the notice of the

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 137

question which the Duke of Wellington tells us is about
to be settled. One thing no rational person will deny,
that the experiment is hazardous. Equally obvious is it
that the timidity, supineness, and other unworthy qualities
of the government for many years past have produced the
danger, the extent of which they now affirm imposes a
necessity of granting all that the Romanists demand.
Now it is rather too much that the country should be
called upon to take the measure of this danger from the
very men who may almost be said to have created it.
Danger is a relative thing, and the first requisite for
judging of what we have to dread from the physical force
of the Roman Catholics is to be in sympathy with the
Protestants. Had our Ministers been so, could they have
suffered themselves to be bearded by the Catholic Asso-
ciation for so many years ?

* C , if I may take leave to say it, loses sight of

things in names, when he says that they should not be
admitted as Roman Catholics, but simply as British sub-
jects. The question before us is, Can Protestantism and
Popery be co-ordinate powers in the constitution of a. free
country, and at the same time Christian belief be in that
country a vital principle of action ?

4 1 fear not. Heaven grant I may be deceived !

' W. W.'

The following is to the Earl of Lonsdale.

1 RydaL Mount, Wednesday.
' My Lord,

4 There is one point also delicate to touch upon and
hazardous to deal with, but of prime importance in this
crisis. The question, as under the conduct of the present

138 ON THE CHURCH OF EOME.

Ministers, is closely connecting itself with religion. Now
after all, if we are to be preserved from utter confusion,
it is religion and morals, and conscience, which must do
the work. The religious part of the community, es-
pecially those attached to the Church of England, must
and do feel that neither the Church as an establishment,
nor its points of Faith as a church, nor Christianity itself
as governed by Scripture, ought to be left long, if it can
be prevented, in the hands which manage our affairs.

' But I am running into unpardonable length. I took
up the pen principally to express a hope that your Lord-
ship may have continued to see the question in the light
which affords the only chance of preserving the nation
from several generations perhaps of confusion, and crime,
and wretchedness.

4 Excuse the liberty I have taken,
1 And believe me most faithfully,
4 Your Lordship's

4 Much obliged,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The next, which is a more elaborate composition, was
addressed to one of the most learned and able Prelates of
the English Church.

' March 3, 1829.
4 My Lord,

4 1 have been hesitating for the space of a week whether
I should take the liberty of addressing you ; but as the
decision draws near, my anxiety increases, and I cannot
refrain from intruding upon you for a few minutes. I will
try to be brief, throwing myself upon your indulgence if
what I have to say prove of little moment.

4 The question before us is, can Protestantism and

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME, 139

Popery, or, somewhat narrowing the ground, can the
Church of England (including that of Ireland) and the ,
Church of Rome be co-ordinate powers in the constitution
of a free country, and, at the same time, Christian belief
be in that country a vital principle of action ? The
states of the Continent afford no proof whatever that the
existence of Protestantism and Romanism under the
specified conditions is practicable, nor can they be ra-
tionally referred to, as furnishing a guide for us. In
France, the most conspicuous of the states, and the first,
the number of Protestants in comparison with Catholics is
insignificant, and unbelief and superstition almost divide
the country between them. In Prussia there is no legis-
lative assembly ; the government is essentially military ;
and, excepting the countries upon the Rhine, recently
added to that power, the proportion of Catholics is incon-
siderable. In Hanover, Jacob speaks of the Protestants
as more than ten to one. Here, indeed, is a legislative
assembly, but its powers are ill defined. Hanover had,
and still may have, a censorship of the press, — an indul-
gent one : it can afford to be so, through the sedative
virtue of the standing army of the country, and that of the
German League, to back the executive in case of com-
motion. No sound-minded Englishman will build upon
the short-lived experience of the kingdom of the Nether-
lands. In Flanders, a benighted Papacy prevails, which
defeated the attempts of the king to enlighten the people
by education ; and I am well assured that the Protestant
portion of Holland have small reason to be thankful for
the footing upon which they have been there placed. If
that kingom is to last, there is great cause for fear that its
government will incline more and more to Romanism, as
the religion of a great majority of its subjects, and as
one, which, by its slavish spirit, makes the people more

140 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

manageable. If so, it is to be apprehended that Protest-
antism will gradually disappear before it ; and the ruling
classes, in a still greater degree than they now are, will
become infidels, as the easiest refuge in their own minds
from the debasing doctrines of Papacy.

'Three great conflicts are before the progressive
nations:1 between Christianity and Infidelity; between
Popery and Protestantism ; and between the spirit of the
old Feudal and Monarchical governments, and the repre-
sentative and republican system as established in America.
The Church of England, in addition to her infidel and
Roman Catholic assailants, and the politicians of the anti-
feudal class, has to contend with a formidable body of
Protestant Dissenters. Amid these several and often-
combined attacks, how is she to maintain herself? from
which of these enemies has she most to fear ? Some are
of opinion that Popery is less formidable than Dissent,
whose bias is republican, which is averse to monarchy, to
a hierarchy, and to the tything system ; to all which
Romanism is strongly attached. The abstract principles
embodied in the creed of the Dissenters' catechism are
without doubt full as politically dangerous as those of the
Romanists, but fortunately their creed is not their practice.
They are divided among themselves ; they acknowledge
no foreign jurisdiction ; their organization and discipline
are comparatively feeble ; and in times long past, however
powerful they proved themselves to overthrow, they are
not likely to be able to build up. Whatever the Presby-
terian form, as in the Church of Scotland, may have to
recommend it, we find that the sons of the nobility and
gentry of Scotland who choose the sacred profession,

1 In this classification I anticipate matter which Mr. Southey
has in the press, the substance of a conversation between us.

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 141

almost invariably enter into the Church of England ; and
for the same reason, viz. : the want of a hierarchy (you
will excuse me for connecting views so humiliating with
divine truth), the rich Dissenters in the course of a gene-
ration or two fall into the bosom of our Church. As
holding out attractions to the upper orders, the Church of
England has no advantages over that of Rome, but rather
the contrary : Popery will join with us in preserving the
form, but for the purpose and in the hope of seizing the
substance for itself. Its ambition is upon record. It is
essentially at enmity with light and knowledge : its power
to exclude these blessings is not so great as formerly,
though its desire to do so is equally strong, and its deter-
mination to exert its power for its own exaltation, by means
of that exclusion, is not in the least abated. The See of
Rome justly regards England as the head of Protestant-
ism : it admires, it is jealous, it is envious of her power
and greatness ; it despairs of being able to destroy them :
but it is ever on the watch to regain its lost influence over
that country, and it hopes to effect this through the means
of Ireland. The words of this last sentence are not my
own, but those of the head of one of the first Catholic
families of the county from which I write, spoken with-
out reserve several years ago. Surely the language of this
individual must be greatly emboldened, 'when he sees the
prostrate condition in which our yet Protestant government
now lies before the Popery of Ireland. " The great Cath-
olic interest," "the old Catholic interest," 1 know to have
been phrases of frequent occurrence in the mouth of a
head of the first Roman Catholic family of England.
And, to descend far lower, — " What would satisfy you ? "
said, not long ago, a person to a very clever lady, a
dependent upon another branch of that family. "That
church," replied she, pointing to the parish church of the

142 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

large town where the conversation took place. Monstrous
expectation ! yet not to be overlooked as an ingredient in
the compound of Popery. This " great Catholic interest "
we are about to embody in a legislative form. A Protes-
tant Parliament is to turn itself into a canine monster with
two heads, which, instead of keeping watch and ward, will
be snarling at and bent on devouring each other.

4 Whatever enemies the Church of England may have
to struggle with now and hereafter, it is clear, that at this
juncture she is especially called to take the measure of
her strength as opposed to the Church of Rome ; that is
her most pressing enemy. The Church of England as to
the point of private judgment, standing between the two
extremes of Popery and Dissent, is entitled to heartfelt
reverence : and among thinking men, whose affections
are not utterly vitiated, never fails to receive it. Popery
will tolerate no private judgment, and Dissent is impatient
of anything else. The blessing of providence has thus far
preserved the Church of England between the shocks to
which she has been exposed from those opposite errors ;
and, however some of her articles may be disputed about,
her doctrines are exclusively scriptural, and her practice
is accommodated to the exigencies of our weak nature.
If this be so, what has she to fear ? Look at Ireland —
might be a sufficient answer. Look at the disproportion
between her Catholic and Protestant population. Look at
the distempered heads of her Roman Catholic Church in-
sisting upon terms, which in France, and even in Austria,
dare not be proposed, and which the Pope himself would
probably relinquish for a season. Look at the revenues
of the Protestant Church, her cathedrals, her churches
that once belonged to the Romanists, and where in imag-
ination, their worship has never ceased to be celebrated.
Can it be doubted that when the yet existing restrictions

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 143

are removed, that the disproportion in the population and
the wealth of the Protestant Church will become more
conspicuous objects for discontent to point at ; and that
plans, however covert, will be instantly set on foot, with
the aid of new powers, for effecting an overthrow, and, if
possible, a transfer ?

4 But all this is too obvious. I would rather argue with
those who think that by excluding the Romanists from
political power we make- them more attached to their
religion, and cause them to unite more strongly in support
of it. Were this true to the extent maintained, we should
still have to balance between the unorganized power
which they derive from a sense of injustice real or sup-
posed, and the legitimate organized power which con-
cession would confer upon surviving discontent ; for no
one, I imagine, is weak enough to suppose that discontent
would disappear. But it is a deception, and a most dan-
gerous one, to conclude that if a free passage were given
to the torrent, it would lose, by diffusion, its ability to do
injury. The checks, as your Lordship well knows, which
are after a time necessary to provoke other sects to ac-
tivity are not wanted here : the Roman Church stands
independent of them through its constitution so exquisitely
contrived, and through its doctrine and discipline, which
give a peculiar and monstrous power io its priesthood.
In proof of this, take the injunction of celibacy alone,
separating the priesthood from the body of the com-
munity, and the practice of confession making them
masters of the conscience, while the doctrines give them
an absolute power over the will. To submit to such thral-
dom, men must be bigoted in its favour : and that we see
is the case in Spain, in Portugal, in Austria, in Italy, in
Flanders, in Ireland, and in all countries where you have
Popery in full blow. And does not history prove that,

144 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

however other sects may have languished under the relax-
ing influence of good fortune, Popery has ever been most
fiery and rampant when most prosperous ?

4 But many who do not expect that conciliation will be
the result of concession have a further expedient on which
they rely much. They propose to take the Romish
Church in Ireland into pay, and expect that afterwards its
clergy will be as compliant to the government as the Pres-
byterians in that country have proved. This measure is,
in the first place, too disingenuous not to be condemned by
honest men ; for the government, acting on this policy,
would degrade itself by offering bribes to men of a sacred
calling to act contrary to their sense of duty. If they be
sincere, as priests, and truly spiritual-minded, they will find
it impossible to accept of a stipend known to be granted
with such expectation. If they be worldlings and false of
heart, they will practise double dealing, and seem to sup-
port the government while they are actually undermining
it ; for they know that if they be suspected of sacrificing
the interests of the Church they will lose all authority over
their flocks. Power and consideration are more valued
than money. The priests will not be induced to risk their
sway over the people for any sums that our government
would venture to afford them out of the exhausted revenues
of the empire. Surely they would prefer to such a scanty
hire the hope of carving for themselves from the property
of the Protestant Church of their country, or even the
gratification of stripping usurpation, for such they deem
it, of its gains, though there may be no hope to win what
others are deprived of. Many English favourers of this
scheme are reconciled to what they call a modification of
the Irish Protestant establishment, in an application of a
portion of the revenues to the support of the Romish
Church. This they deem reasonable. Shortly it will be

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 145

openly aimed at, and they will rejoice should they accom-
plish their purpose. But your Lordship will agree with
me, that if that happen it would be one of the most calam-
itous events that ignorance has in our time given birth to.
After all, could the secular clergy be paid out of this spoli-
ation, or in any other way, the regulars would rise in
consequence of their degradation ; and where would be the
influence that could keep them from mischief? They
would swarm over the country to prey upon the people
still more than they now do. In all the reasonings of the
friends to this bribing scheme the distinctive character of
the Papal Church is overlooked.

4 But they who expect that tranquillity will be a perma-
nent consequence of the Relief Bill, dwell much upon the
mighty difference in opinion and feeling between the
upper and lower ranks of the Romish communion. They
affirm that many keep within the pale of the Church as a
point of honour ; that others have notions greatly relaxed,
and though not at present prepared to separate they will
gradually fall off. But what avail the inward sentiments
of men, if they are convinced that by acting upon them
they will forfeit their outward dignity and power ? As
long as the political influence which the priests now exer-
cise shall endure, or anything like it, the great proprietors
will be obliged to dissemble and to conform in their actions
to the demands of that power. Such will be the conduct
of the great Roman Catholic proprietors ; nay, further, I
agree with those who deem it probable that through a
natural and reasonable desire to have their property duly
represented, many landholders who are now Protestants
will be tempted to go over to Popery. This may be
thought a poor compliment to Protestantism, since religious
scruples, it is said, are all that keep the Papists out : but is
not the desire to be in, pushing them on almost to rebellion

VOL. II. 10

146 ON THE CHUECH OF ROME.

at this moment ? We are taking, I own, a melancholy
view of both sides ; but human nature, be it what it may,
must by legislators be looked at as it is.

4 In the treatment of this question we hear perpetually
of wrong, but the wrong is all on one side. If the politi-
cal power of Ireland is to be a transfer from those who are
of the state-religion of the country to those who are not,
there is nothing gained on the score of justice. We hear
also much of stigma ; but this is not to be done away with
unless all offices, the Privy Council, and the chancellor-
ship, be open to them ; that is, unless we allow a man to
be eligible to keep the king's conscience who has not his
own in his keeping, unless we open the throne itself to
men of this soul-degrading faith.

' The condition of Ireland is indeed, and long has been,
wretched. Lamentable is it to acknowledge, that the mass
of her people are so grossly uninformed, and from that
cause subject to such delusions and passions, that they would
destroy each other were it not for restraints put upon them
by a power out of themselves. This power it is that pro-
tracts their existence in a state for which otherwise the
course of nature would provide a remedy by reducing
their numbers through mutual destruction, so that English
civilization may fairly be said to have been the shield of
Irish barbarism. And now these swarms of degraded peo-
ple, which could not have existed but through the neglect
and misdirected power of the sister island, are, by a with-
drawing of that power, to have their own way, and to be
allowed to dictate to us. A population vicious in character,
as unnatural in immediate origin (for it has been called
into birth by short-sighted landlords set upon adding to the
number of voters at their command, and by priests, who
for lucre's sake favour the increase of marriage), is held
forth, as constituting a claim to political power, strong in

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 147

proportion to its numbers ; though, in a sane view, that
claim is in an inverse ratio to them. Brute force, indeed,
wherever lodged, as we are too feelingly taught at present,
must be measured and met — measured with care in order
to be met with fortitude.

* The chief proximate causes of Irish misery and igno-
rance are Popery, of which I have said so much, and the
tenure and management of landed property ; and both
these have a common origin, viz., the imperfect conquest
of the country. The countries subjected by the ancient
Romans, and those that in the middle ages were subdued
by the northern tribes, afford striking instances of the
several ways in which nations may be improved by for-
eign conquests. The Romans, by their superiority in arts
and arms, and, in the earlier period of their history, in
virtues also, may seem to have established a moral right
to force their institutions upon other nations, whether
under a process of decline, or emerging from barbarism ;
and this they effected, we all know, not by overrunning
countries as eastern conquerors have done — and Buona-
parte, in our own days — but by completing a regular
subjugation, with military roads and garrisons, which
became centres of civilization for the surrounding district.
Nor am I afraid to add, though the fact might be caught
at, as bearing against the general scope <5f my argument,
that both conquerors and conquered owed much to the
participation of civil rights which the Romans liberally
communicated. The other mode of conquest, that pur-
sued by the northern nations, brought about its beneficial
effects, by the settlement of a hardy and vigorous people
among the distracted and effeminate nations against whom
their incursions were made. The conquerors transplanted
with them their independent and ferocious spirit, to rean-
imate exhausted communities ; and in their turn received

148 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

a salutary mitigation, till, in process of time, the conqueror
and conquered, having a common interest, were lost in
each other. To neither of these modes was unfortunate
Ireland subject; and her insular territory, by physical
obstacles, and still more by moral influences arising out of
them, has aggravated the evil consequent upon indepen-
dence lost as hers was. The writers of the time of Queen
Elizabeth have pointed out how unwise it was to trans-
plant among a barbarous people not half subjugated, the
institutions that time had matured among those who too
readily considered themselves masters of that people. It
would be presumptuous in me to advert in detail to the
exacerbations and long-lived hatred that have perverted
the moral sense in Ireland, obstructed religious knowledge,
and denied to her a due share of English refinement and
civility. It is enough to observe, that the Reformation
was ill supported in that country, and that her soil became,
through frequent forfeitures, mainly possessed by men
whose hearts were not in the land where their wealth
lay.

'But it is too late, we are told, for retrospection. We
have no choice between giving way and a sanguinary war.
Surely it is rather too much that the country should be
required to take the measure of the threatened evil from
a cabinet which, by its being divided against itself, and by
its remissness and fear of long and harassing debates in
the two houses, has for many years past fostered the evil,
and in no small part created that danger, the extent of
which is now urged as imposing the necessity of granting
all demands. Danger is a relative thing, and the first
requisite for being in a condition to judge of what we have
to dread from the physical force of the Romanists, is to
be in sympathy with the Protestants. Had our ministers
been truly so, could they have suffered themselves to be

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 149

bearded by the Catholic Association for so many years as
they have been ?

4 1 speak openly to you, my Lord, though a Member of
his Majesty's Privy Council ; and, begging your pardon
for detaining you so long, I hasten to a conclusion.

1 The civil disabilities, for the removal of which Mr.
O'Connell and his followers are braving the government,
cannot but be indifferent to the great body of the Irish
nation, except as means for gaining an end. Take away
the intermediate power of the priests, and an insurrection
in Brobdignag at the call of the king of Lilliput, might be
as hopefully expected as that the Irish people would stir,
as they now do, at the call of a political demagogue.
Now these civil disabilities do not directly affect the
priests ; they therefore must have ulterior views : and
though it must be flattering to their vanity to show that
they have the Irish representation in their own hands, and
though their worldly interest and that of their connections
will, they know, immediately profit by that dominion,
what they look for principally is, the advancement of their
religion at the cost of Protestantism ; that would bring
everything else in its train. While it is obvious that the
political agitators could not rouse the people without the
intervention of the priests, it is true, also, that the priests
could not excite the people without a hope that from the
exaltation of their Church their social condition would be
improved. What in Irish interpretation these words would
mean, we may tremble to think of.

* In whatever way we look, religion -is so much mixed
up in this matter, that the guardians of the Established
Church of the empire are imperiously called upon to show
themselves worthy of the high trust reposed in them.
You, my Lord, are convinced that in spite of the best
securities that can be given, the admission of Roman

150 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

Catholics into the legislature is a dangerous experiment.
Oaths cannot be framed that will avail here ; the only
securities to be relied upon are what we have little hope
to see — the Roman Church reforming itself, and a par-
liament and a ministry sufficiently sensible of the superi-
ority of the one form of religion over the other, to be
resolved, not only to preserve the present rights and
immunities of the Protestant Church inviolate, but pre-
pared, by all fair means, for the extension of its in-
fluence, with a hope that it may gradually prevail over
Popery.

4 It is, we trust, the intention of Providence that the
Church of Rome should in due time disappear ; and come
what may of the Church of England, we have the satis-
faction of knowing, that in defending a government resting
upon a Protestant basis, which, say what they will, the
other party have abandoned, we are working for the wel-
fare of human kind, and supporting whatever there is of
dignity in our frail nature.

' Here I might stop ; but I am above measure anxious
for the course which the bench of Bishops may take at
this crisis : they are appealed to, and even by the heir
presumptive to the throne, from his seat in Parliament.
There will be an attempt to browbeat them on the score
of humanity ; but humanity is, if it deserves the name, a
calculating and prospective quality ; it will on this occasion
balance an evil at hand with an infinitely greater one that
is sure, or all but sure, to come. Humanity is not shown
the less by firmness than by tenderness of heart ; it is
neither deterred by clamour, nor enfeebled by its own
sadness ; but it estimates evil and good to the best of its
power, acts by the dictates of conscience, and trusts the
issue to the Ruler of all things.

4 If, my Lord, I have seemed to write with over-con-

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 151

fidence in any opinion I have given above, impute it to a
wish of avoiding cumbrous qualifying expressions.

' Sincerely do I pray that God may give your Lordship
and the rest of your brethren light to guide you, and
strength to walk in that light,

4 1 am, my Lord, &c.

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

Such were Mr. Wordsworth's sentiments in 1829. In
politics he was a lover of freedom, to the utmost extent
that in his judgment was consistent with the peace and
safety of society. His 4 Sonnets to Liberty ' afford suffi-
cient evidence of this fact. The removal, therefore, of
civil disabilities from every class of the community was
one of his primary desires ; and he would have been
among the first to hail the concession of such relief to the
Romanists, if such relief had been, in his opinion, con-
sistent with due regard to the maintenance of the institu-
tions of the country. But he regarded the removal of
Romish disabilities as opening the way to Romish domi-
nation ; and he apprehended that they who were ad-
vocating such a removal, on the plea of civil liberty,
were unconsciously promoting the cause of spiritual
tyranny.

Again, as a poet, also, Mr. Wordsworth was predisposed
to sympathize >with a form of religion which appears to
afford some exercise for the imaginative faculty ; he was
an enthusiastic admirer of the arts of Painting, Architec-
ture, and Sculpture, especially when .employed in the
service of religion. He loved reverence and decorum,
and even splendour and magnificence, in the public
worship of God. He had, therefore, no leanings toward
a puritan system of Theology or Church Polity. All his
prepossessions were in the opposite direction, as his

152 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

writings abundantly declare.1 However, such as we have
seen were his opinions in 1829 ; and they were then of
no recent formation, as will be perceived by reference to
a previous chapter 2 ; and they were maintained unalter-
ably to the close of his life. Of this I will cite only one
or two proofs out of many.

In the autumn of 1829 he made a tour in Ireland with
J. Marshall, Esq. M. P., of Leeds ; and in writing to his
sister from that country on the 24th of Sept., he thus ex-
presses himself : c The Romanists, that is, the lower
orders, are entirely under the command of their priests,
ready to stir in any commotion to which their spiritual
leaders may be inclined to incite them ; so that the coun-
try may be pronounced to be in an unwholesome if not
alarming state. . . . Through the political agitators and
the priests, and the bigotry and ignorance of the lower
orders, who are so prodigiously numerous, I dread the
worst for the Established Church of Ireland. After all,
tranquillity might be restored, and the country preserved,
if the English parliament and government would see
their interest, and do their duty. The fact is, they know
not how formidable Popery is ; how deeply rooted it is ;
nor that it is impossible that Ireland can prosper or be at
peace, unless the Protestant religion be properly valued by
the government.'

Writing in July 1845, to a relative, who, after visiting
the College of Maynooth, had published some remarks on
the proposed augmentation of the public grant to that
College, with the view of showing that the Romish system

1 See e. g. 'Stanzas on St. Bees/ vol. iv. p. 148-153; and
' Devotional Incitements,' vol. ii. p. 202 ; f Sonnets on King's Col-
lege Chapel, Cambridge,' vol. iv. p. 121.

2 See above, p. 8 ; p. 25.

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 153

of policy, in its ultramontane form, taught in that college,
tends to undermine the foundations of the monarchy, and
to disorganize society ; and that no loyal subject, no in-
telligent lover of liberty, and no true patriot, who care-
fully examines the principles of that system in their
bearings on the monarchy and constitution of England,
can consent to teach or to aid in teaching them at the
public expense ; he thus speaks :

'Kydal Mount, June 30, 1845.
i My dear C ,

' I ought to have acknowledged my debt to you long
ago, but the inflammation in one of my eyes which seized
me on my first arrival in London kept its ground for a
long time. I had your two first pamphlets read to me,
and immediately put them into circulation among my
friends in this neighbourhood ; but wishing to read them
myself, I did not like to write to you till I had done so, as
there were one or two passages on which I wished to
make a remark.

4 As to your arguments, they are unanswerable, and the
three tracts do you the greatest possible credit ; but the
torrent cannot be stemmed, unless we can construct a
body, I will not call it a party, upon a new and true prin-
ciple of action, as you have set forth. Certain questions
are forced by the present conduct of government upon the
mind of every observing and thinking person. First and
foremost, Are we to have a national English Church,
or is the Church of England to be regarded merely as a
sect ? and is the right to the Throne to be put on a new
foundation 1 Is the present ministry prepared for this,
and all that must precede and follow it ? Is Ireland an
integral and inseparable portion of the Empire or not?
If it be, I cannot listen to the argument in favour of

154 ON THE CHURCH OF ROME.

endowing Romanism upon the ground of superiority of
numbers. The Romanists are not a majority in England
and Ireland, taken, as they ought to be, together. As to
Scotland, it has its separate kirk by especial covenant.
Are the ministers prepared to alter fundamentally the
basis of the Union between England and Ireland, and to
construct a new one ? If they be, let them tell us so at
once. In short, they are involving themselves and the
Nation in difficulties from which there is no escape — for
them at least none. What I have seen of your letter to

Lord John M I like as well as your two former

tracts, and I shall read it carefully at my first leisure
moment.'

In the same year he thus writes to his old friend, Mr.
Joseph Cottle, of Firfield House, Bristol.

'Rydal Mount, Dec. 6, 1845.
4 My dear old Friend,

4 Now for your little tract, " Heresiarch Church of
Rome." I have perused it carefully, and go the whole
length with you in condemnation of Romanism, and pro-
bably much further, by reason of my having passed at
least three years of life in countries where Romanism
was the prevailing or exclusive religion ; and if we are
to trust the declaration " By their fruits ye shall know
them," I have stronger reasons, in the privilege I have
named, for passing a severe condemnation upon leading
parts of their faith, and courses of their practice, than
others who have never been eye-witnesses of the evils to
which I allude. Your little publication is well-timed, and
will, I trust, have such an effect as you aimed at upon the
minds of its readers.

ON THE CHURCH OF ROME. 155

'And now let me bid you affectionately good bye, with
assurance that I do and shall retain to the last a remem
brance of your kindness, and of the many pleasant and
happy hours, which, at one of the most interesting periods
of my life, I passed in your neighbourhood, and in your
company.

1 Ever, most faithfully yours,

4 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

CHAPTER XLIV.

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831.

MR. WORDSWORTH'S tour in Ireland in 1829, and the
excursion in the preceding year on the Rhine, do not
appear to have been very productive of poetical fruits.

' I have often regretted,' he says, speaking of his mag-
nificent poem on the ' Power of Sound,' l composed at
Rydal Mount, 1829, 'that my tour in Ireland, chiefly
performed in the short days of September and October in
a carriage and four (I was with Mr. Marshall), supplied
my memory with so few images that were new, and with
so little motive to write. The lines, however, in this
poem,

" Thou too be heard, lone Eagle ! " &c.

were suggested near the Giant's Causeway, or rather at
the promontory of Fairhead, where a pair of eagles
wheeled above our heads, and darted off as if to hide
themselves in a blaze of sky made by the setting sun.'
The following letter records some of his impressions in
this tour.

To G. Huntly Gordon, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, Dec. I, 1829.
4 My dear Sir,

' You must not go to Ireland without applying to me, as
1 Vol. ii. p. 212.

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831. 157

the guide-books for the most part are sorry things, and
mislead by their exaggerations. If I were a younger
man, and could prevail upon an able artist to accompany
me, there are few things I should like better than giving
a month or six weeks to explore the county of Kerry
only. A judicious topographical work on that district
would be really useful, both for the lovers of nature and
the observers of manners. As to the Giant's Causeway
and the coast of Antrim, you cannot go wrong ; there the
interests obtrude themselves on every one's notice.

4 The subject of the Poor Laws was never out of my
sight whilst I was in Ireland ; it seems to me next to im-
possible to introduce a general system of such laws, prin-
cipally for two reasons : the vast numbers that would
have equal claims for relief, and the non-existence of a
class capable of looking with effect to their administration.
Much is done at present in many places (Deny, for exam-
ple) by voluntary contributions ; but the narrow-minded
escape from the burthen, which falls unreasonably upon
the charitable ; so that assessments in the best-disposed
places are to be wished for, could they be effected without
producing a greater evil.

4 The great difficulty that is complained of in the well
managed places is the floating poor, who cannot be ex-
cluded, I am told, by any existing law 'from quartering
themselves where they like. Open begging is not prac-
tised in many places, but there is no law by which the
poor can be prevented from returning to a place which
they may have quitted voluntarily, or from which they
have been expelled (as I was told). Were it not for this
obstacle compulsory local regulations might, I think, be
applied in many districts with good effect.

1 It would be unfair to myself to quit this momentous
subject without adding, that I am a zealous friend to the

158 POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826 - 1831.

great principle of the Poor Laws, as tending, if judiciously
applied, much more to elevate than to depress the charac-
ter of the labouring classes. I have never seen this truth
developed as it ought to be in parliament.*

4 The day I dined with Lord F. L. Gower at his official
residence, in the Phoenix Park, I met there with an intelli-
gent gentleman, Mr. Page, who was travelling in Ireland
expressly to collect information upon this subject, which,
no doubt, he means to publish. If you should hear of this
pamphlet when it comes out procure it, for I am per-
suaded it will prove well worth reading. Farewell.
4 Faithfully yours,

4 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

Another lyrical poem was written about the same pe-
riod, The Triad^ in which the daughters of the three
Poets, Southey, Wordsworth, and Coleridge,f are grouped

1 Vol. ii. p. 181.

* [See Wordsworth's opinions on the subject of the Poor Laws,
afterwards fully stated in the 'Postscript' (1835) to the Volume
entitled 'Yarrow Revisited, etc.' —Vol. v. p. 252, etc. — H. R.]

f [The poem portrays them in the order in which they are here
named— Edith May Southey, the eldest child of Southey, and
now the wife of the Rev. John Wood Warter j Dora Wordsworth,
afterwards married to Edward Quillinan, Esq.; and Sara Cole-
ridge, now the widow of Henry Nelson Coleridge, Esq. Twenty
years after the composition oi this poem, a fine public response was
given by the daughter of Coleridge, in the dedication of her edition
of her Father's 'Biographia Literaria.'1 It breathes so beautiful a
spirit of filial affection and reverence for him who was her own as
well as her Father's friend, and so well illustrates that eloquent
truthfulness, which has often given, in late years, to ' dedications '
a charm and reality (especially when compared with the tone of the
same species of letters in former periods of our literature) — that
I am tempted to append it to this chapter in a note. — H. R.J

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831. 159

together, as the three Graces are, hand entwined in hand,
in ancient sculpture, and in classic poetry — l Segnes
nodum solvere Gratiae.'

To the same friend, mentioned above, G. H. Gordon,
Esq., who had recounted some misconceptions with regard
to this poem, he thus writes :

'Rydal Mount, Dec. 15, 1828.

4 How strange that any one should be puzzled with the
name "Triad" after reading the poern ! I have turned
to Dr. Johnson, and there find " Triad, three united" and
not a word more, as nothing more was needed. I should
have been rather mortified if you had not liked the piece,
as I think it contains some of the happiest verses I ever
wrote. It had been promised several years to two of the
party before a fancy fit for the performance struck me ; it
was then thrown off rapidly, and afterwards revised with
care. During the last week I wrote some stanzas on the
Power of Sound, which ought to find a place in my larger
work if aught should ever come of that.

4 In the book on the Lakes, which I have not at hand, is
a passage rather too vaguely expressed, where I content
myself with saying, that after a certain point of elevation
the effect of mountains depends much more upon their
form than upon their absolute height. This point, which
ought to have been defined, is the one to which fleecy
clouds (not thin watery vapours) are accustomed to
descend. I am glad you are so much interested with
this little tract; it could not have been written without
long experience.

4 1 remain, most faithfully,

4 Your much obliged,

4 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

160 POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831.

Other subjects from home scenes were suggested at this
time to his mind. The poem beginning 'The massy
ways,' * was inspired, in 1826, by his walks on his own
terrace; the Stanzas on a Needle-case12 in the form of a
harp, were written to commemorate a work from the fair
hand of the Laureate's daughter; the Wishing Gate,3
composed in 1828, celebrates an object of traditionary
and imaginative interest in the Vale of Grasmere. The
shadows glancing between the trees, and playing on the
grass of the glade, in his own garden, supplied material
for those meditative lines :

' This lawn, a carpet all alive
With shadows flung from leaves, to strive

In dance, amid a press
Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields
Of worldlings, revelling in the fields

Of strenuous idleness.

1 Yet, spite of all this eager strife,
This ceaseless play, the genuine life

That serves the steadfast hours,
Is in the grass beneath, that grows
Unheeded, and the mute repose

Of sweetly-breathing flowers.'4

In connection with this poem the author spoke as
follows : 5

This Lawn. — * This lawn is the sloping one approach-
ing the kitchen-garden at Rydal Mount, and was made out
of it. Hundreds of times have I here watched the danc-
ing of shadows amid a press of sunshine, and other
beautiful appearances of light and shade, flowers and
shrubs. What a contrast between this and the cabbages

1 Vol. v. p. 64. 2 Vol. ii. p. 43. s Vol. ii. p. 188.

4 Vol. iv. p. 228. 5 MSS. I. F.

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831. 161

and onions and carrots that used to grow there on a piece
of ugly-shaped, unsightly ground. No reflection, however,
either upon cabbages or onions ; the latter, we know, were
worshipped by the Egyptians : and he must have a poor
eye for beauty who has not observed how much of it there
is in the form and colour which cabbages and plants of
that genus exhibit through the various stages of their
growth and decay. A richer display of colour in vegetable
nature can scarcely be conceived than Coleridge, my sis-
ter, and I saw in a bed of potato-plants in blossom near a
hut upon the moor between Inversneyd and Loch Katrine.
These blossoms were of such extraordinary beauty and
richness that no one could have passed them without
notice : but the sense must be cultivated through the mind
before we can perceive these inexhaustible treasures of
nature — for such they truly are — without the least neces-
sary reference to the utility of her productions, or even to
the laws whereupon, as we learn by research, they are
dependent. Some are of opinion that the habit of analyz-
ing, decomposing, and anatomizing is inevitably unfavour-
able to the perception of beauty. People are led into this
mistake by overlooking the fact that such processes being
to a certain extent within the reach of a limited intellect,
we are apt to ascribe to them that insensibility of which
they are, in truth, the effect, and not the cause. Admira-
tion and love, to which all knowledge truly vital must tend,
are felt by men of real genius in proportion as their dis-
coveries in natural philosophy are enlarged ; and the
beauty, in form, of a plant or an animal is not made less,
but more apparent, as a whole, by more accurate insight
into its constituent properties and powers.

1 A savant who is not also a poet in soul, and a religion-
ist in heart, is a feeble and unhappy creature.'

Three poems, also, of a serious cast and devotional

VOL. II. 11

162 POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831.

character, somewhat later in date, may properly be men-
tioned here : ' Presentiments,' 1 composed in 1830 ; ' The
Primrose on the Rock,'2 written in 1831; 'Devotional
Incitements,'3 to which may be added 'Rural Illusions,'4
written in 1832.

Contemporary with the last named poem was that called
4 Thoughts on the Seasons,' 5 also of a pensive character.
So also was ' The Gleaner,' 6 and the verses on the ' Gold
and Silver Fishes in a Vase,'7 and its sequel ' Liberty,'8
and 'Humanity.'9 These fishes were presented to the
Poet by a veiy dear and accomplished friend, Miss M. J.
Jewsbury, to whose memory he has paid an affectionate
tribute in the printed note attached to the poem on ' Lib-
erty.'10* The fishes remained for some time in a glass

* Vol. ii. p. 197.
4 Vol. ii. p. 60.
7 Vol. v. p. 10.
10 Vol. v. p. 16.

2 Vol. ii. p. 193.
5 Vol. iv. p. 233.
8 Vol. v. p. 12.

3 Vol. ii. p. 202.
6 Vol. v. p. 18.
9 Vol. iv. p. 229.

* [' She accompanied her husband, the Rev. Wm. Fletcher, to
India, and died of cholera, at the age of thirty-two or thirty-three
years, on her way from Shalapore to Bombay, deeply lamented by
all who knew her.

' Her enthusiasm was ardent, her piety steadfast j and her great
talents would have enabled her to be eminently useful in the diffi-
cult path of life to which she had been called. The opinion she
entertained of her own performances, given to the world under her
maiden name, Jewsbury, was modest and humble, and, indeed far
below their merits ; as is often the case with those who are making
trial of their powers, with a hope to discover what they are best
fitted for. In one quality, viz., quickness in the motions of her
mind, she had, within the range of the Author's acquaintance, no
equal.' Note referred to above j see also Chap. iii. of these < Me-
moirs,' Vol. i. p. 24. Miss Jewsbury's works were 'Phantasma-
goria,' ' The Three Histories,' ' Letters to the Young,' and ' Lays
of Leisure Hours.' See also Chorley's ' Memorials of Mrs. He-

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831. 363

vase in the morning-room at Rydal ; but at last they lan-
guished in their confinement ; and 4 one of them,' says
Mr. Wordsworth, ' being all but dead, they were taken to
the pool under the old pollard oak. The apparently dying
one lay on its side, unable to move. 1 used to watch it ;
and about the tenth day it began to right itself, and in a
few days more was able to swim about with its compan-
ions. For many months they continued to prosper in their
new place of abode ; but one night, by an unusually great
flood, they were swept out of the pool, and perished, to
our great regret.' l

Humanity. — 4 These verses, and the preceding ones,
entitled " Liberty," were composed as one piece, which
Mrs. W. complained of as unwieldy and ill-proportioned ;
and accordingly it was divided into two, on her judicious
recommendation.'

The poem of * The Poet and caged Turtle-Dove'2
ought to be mentioned here.

' As often as I murmur here
My half-formed melodies,
Straight from her osier mansion near,
The turtle-dove replies.'

* This dove,' said the Poet,3 ' was one of a pair that
had been given to my daughter by our excellent friend,
Miss Jewsbury (the donor of the fish), who went to India
with her husband, Mr. Fletcher, where she died of cholera.
The dove survived its mate many years, and was killed,
to our great sorrow, by a neighbour's cat, that got in at a

mans,' Chap. iv. for an interesting account of the origin of Words-
worth's friendship for Miss Jewsbury, in an application to him for
counsel in the discipline of her mind. — H. R.]

1 MSS. I. F. » Vol. ii. p. 55. 3 MSS. L F.

164 POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831.

window and dragged it partly out of the cage. These
verses were composed extempore to the letter, in the ter-
race summer-house before spoken of. It was the habit of
the bird to begin cooing and murmuring whenever it
heard me making my verses.'

In the autumn of 1830, the sonnet on Chatsworth l was
written, under the following circumstances, as detailed by
Mr. Wordsworth :

Sonnet 49. ' Chatsworth,' &c. — ' I have reason to re-
member the day that gave rise to this sonnet, the 6th
November, 1830. Having undertaken — a great feat for
me — to ride my daughter's pony from Westmoreland to
Cambridge, that she might have the use of it while on a
visit to her uncle at Trinity Lodge, on my way from
Bake well to Matlock I turned aside to Chatsworth, and
had scarcely gratified my curiosity by the sight of that
celebrated place, before there came on a severe storm of
wind and rain, which continued till I reached Derby, both
man and pony in a pitiable plight. For myself, I went to
bed at noon-day. In the course of that journey I had to
encounter a storm worse, if possible, in which the pony
could (or would) only make his way slantwise. I mention
this merely to add, that, notwithstanding this battering, I
composed, on pony-back, the lines to the memory of Sir
George Beaumont, suggested during my recent visit to
Coleorton.'

On the same expedition were composed, also, the Ele-
giac musings in the Grounds of Coleorton Hall.2 Mr.
Wordsworth's dear friend, Sir George Beaumont, had
departed this life on the 7th February, 1827, and was
soon followed by his widow, Lady Beaumont, who died
14th July, 1829. Writing, in 1830, to his sister from

1 Vol. ii p. 307. 2 Vol. v. p. 139.

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831. 165

Coleorton, the scene of so many happy days for so many
years in succession, he says, 4 The changes in the grounds
at Coleorton will in time prove decided improvements : at
present, parts are cold and bare. Sir George ' (the suc-
cessor in the baronetcy to Mr. Wordsworth's friend) ' took
me round them. When I sat down in Lady Beaumont's
grotto, near the fountain, I was suddenly overcome, and
could not speak for tears. This visit gave occasion to the
elegiac musings above mentioned.'

Three other poems, of a very different cast, were writ-
ten at nearly the same period (1830). These are 'The
Armenian Lady's Love,' ' The Egyptian Maid,' and 4 The
Russian Fugitive,' l which are beautiful specimens of the
author's powers of blending the simplicity and tenderness
of the old ballad with the exquisite graces of a most pure
and finished diction.

About this time were composed two other poems, of a
personal interest, one on the author's own portrait, by
Pickersgill, now at St. John's College, Cambridge,2 4 Go,
faithful Portrait ; ' the other an inscription for a stone in
the grounds at Rydal,3

1 In these fair vales hath many a tree,
At Wordsworth's suit, been spared; '

being like an epitaph on himself.

1 Vol. i. p. 282 j vol. iii. p. 184 j vol. v. p. 46.

2 Vol. ii. p. 308. 3 Vol. v. p. 64. See Vol. I. p. 23.

[The dedication of the last edition of Coleridge's ' Biographia
Literaria,' spoken of in a previous note in this chapter, is as
follows :

'To

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, Esq., P. L.
My Dear Mr Wordsworth,
I have received with great pleasure your permission to inscribe

166 POEMS WRITTEN IN 1826-1831.

to you this new edition of my Father's Biographia Liter aria.
You will find in it some of the latest writings of my dear departed
Husband; — some too of my own, to which I know you will be
indulgent ; but my chief reason for dedicating it to you is, that
it contains, though only in a brief and fragmentary form, an
account of the Life and Opinions of your friend S. T. Coleridge,
in which I feel assured that, however you may dissent from por-
tions of the latter, you take a high and peculiar interest. His
name was early associated with your's from the time when you
lived as neighbours, and both together sought the Muse, in the
lovely Vale of Stowey. That this association may endure as long
as you are both remembered, — that not only as a Poet, but as a
Lover and Teacher of Wisdom, my Father may continue to be
spoken of in connection with you, while your writings become
more and more fully and widely appreciated, is the dearest and
proudest wish that I can form for his memory.
I remain, dear Mr. Wordsworth,

With deep affection, admiration, and respect,

Your Child in heart and faithful Friend,

SARA COLERIDGE.
Regent's Park,
January 30, 1847.'

'Biographia Literaria,' Edit. 1847, Vol. i. p. 1. — H. R.]

CHAPTER XLV.

ON EDUCATION.

THE true poet is a teacher. Such was the language of
the writers of antiquity,1 and such was the sentiment
which animated Mr. Wordsworth, and regulated his prac-
tice in the discharge of his poetical functions. Hence,
the subject of EDUCATION was one in which he felt a
personal and professional interest ; and the design of the
present chapter will be to present his opinions on that
topic in his own words.

The first paper which I shall insert is a letter from Mr.
Wordsworth to a friend who had consulted him on the
education of a daughter : the date of this communication
cannot be precisely fixed ; but it appears to be about
1806.

4 My dear Sir,

4 1 am happy to hear of the instructions which you are
preparing for parents, and feel honoured by your having
offered to me such an opportunity of conveying to the
public any information I may possess upon the subject ;

1 See the speech of jEschylus in Aristoph. Ran. 1028-1034.
Hor. A. P. 391-400.

1 Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque
Carminibus venit.'

Compare Mr. "Wordsworth's letter to Sir George Beaumont, Vol. I.
p. 342. ' Every great poet is a teacher : I wish to be considered
as a teacher — or as nothing.'

168 ON EDUCATION.

•

but, in truth, I am so little competent, in the present
unarranged state of my ideas, to write anything of value,
that it would be the highest presumption in me to attempt
it. This is not mock modesty, but rigorous and sober
truth. As to the case of your own child, I will set down
a few thoughts, which I do not hope will throw much light
on your mind, but they will show my willingness to do
the little that is in my power.

4 The child being the child of a man like you, what I
have to say will lie in small compass.

' I consider the facts which you mention as indicative
of what is commonly called sensibility, and of quickness
and talent, and shall take for granted that they are so ;
you add that the child is too much noticed by grown peo-
ple, and apprehend selfishness.

4 Such a child will almost always be too much noticed ;
and it is scarcely possible entirely to guard against the
evil : hence vanity, and under bad management selfish-
ness of the worst kind. And true it is, that under better
and even the best management, such constitutions are
liable to selfishness ; not showing itself in the shape of
tyranny, caprice, avarice, meanness, envy, skulking, and
base self-reference ; but selfishness of a worthier kind,
yet still rightly called by that name. What I mean I shall
explain afterwards.

4 Vanity is not the necessary or even natural growth of
such a temperament; quite the contrary. Such a child,
if neglected and suffered to run wild, would probably be
entirely free from vanity, owing to the liveliness of its
feelings, and the number of its resources. It would be
by nature independent and sufficient for itself. But as
such children, in these times in particular, are rarely if
ever neglected, or rather rarely if ever not far too much
noticed, it is a hundred to one your child will have more

ON EDUCATION. 169

vanity than you could wish. This is one evil to be
guarded against. Formerly, indeed till within these few
years, children were very carelessly brought up ; at pres-
ent they too early and too habitually feel their own im-
portance, from the solicitude and unremitting attendance
which is bestowed upon them.* A child like yours, I
believe, unless under the wisest guidance, would prosper
most where she was the least noticed and the least made
of; I mean more than this, where she received the least
cultivation. She does not stand in need of the stimulus
of praise (as much as can benefit her, i. e. as much as
her nature requires, it will be impossible to withhold from
her) ; nor of being provoked to exertion, or, even if she
be not injudiciously thwarted, to industry. Nor can there
be any need to be sedulous in calling out her affectidhs ;
her own lively enjoyments will do all this for her, and
also point out what is to be done to her. But take all
the pains you can, she will be too much noticed. Other
evils will also beset her, arising more from herself ; and
how are these to be obviated ? But, first, let us attempt
to find what these evils will be.

4 Observe, I put all gross mismanagement out of the
question, and I believe they will then probably be as fol-
lows : first, as mentioned before, a considerable portion of
vanity. But if the child be not constrained too much, and
be left sufficiently to her own pursuits, and be not too
anxiously tended, and have not her mind planted over by
art with likings that do not spring naturally up in it, this
will by the liveliness of her independent enjoyment almost
entirely disappear, and she will become modest and diffi-
dent ; and being not apt from the same ruling cause, — I
mean the freshness of her own sensations, — to compare

* [See < The Prelude/ Book v. 'Books' P. 116. — H. R.]

170 ON EDUCATION.

herself with others, she will hold herself in too humble
estimation. But she will probably still be selfish; and
this brings me to the explanation of what I hinted at
before, viz., in what manner she will be selfish.

'It appears, then, to me that all the permanent evils
which you have to apprehend for your daughter, supposing
you ^hould live to educate her yourself, may be referred
to this principle, — an undue predominance of present
objects over absent ones, which, as she will surely be
distinguished by an extreme love of those about her, will
produce a certain restlessness of mind, calling perpetually
for proofs of ever-living regard and affection : she must
be loved as much and in the same way as she loves, or
she will not be satisfied. Hence, quickness in taking
offence, petty jealousies and apprehensions lest she is
neglected or loses ground in people's love, a want of a
calm and steady sense of her own merits to secure her
from these fits of imagined slights ; for, in the first place,
she will, as is hinted at before, be in general deficient in
this just estimation of her own worth, and will further be
apt to forget everything of that kind in the present sense
of supposed injury. She will (all which is referable to
the same cause) in the company of others, have too con-
stant a craving for sympathy up to a height beyond what
her companions are capable of bestowing ; this will often
be mortifying to herself, and burthensorne to others ; and
should circumstances be untoward, and her mind be not
sufficiently furnished with ideas and knowledge, this
craving would be most pernicious to herself, preying upon
mind and body. She will be too easily pleased, apt to
overrate the merits of new acquaintances, subject to fits
of over-love and over-joy, in absence from those she loves
full of fears and apprehensions, &c., injurious to her
health ; her passions for the most part will be happy and

ON EDUCATION. 171

good, but she will be too little mistress of them. The
distinctions which her intellect will make will be apt, able,
and just, but in conversation she will be prone to over-
shoot herself, and commit eloquent blunders through
eagerness. In fine, her manners will be frank and ardent,
but they will want dignity ; and a want of dignity will be
the general defect of her character.

' Something of this sort of character, which I have thus
loosely sketched, and something of the sort of selfishness
to which I have adverted, it seems to me that under the
best management you have reason to apprehend for your
daughter. If she should happen to be an only child, or
the only sister of brothers who would probably idolize
her, one might prophesy almost with absolute confidence
that most of these qualities would be found in her in a
great degree. How then is the evil to be softened down
or prevented? Assuredly, not by mortifying her, which
is the course commonly pursued with such tempers ; nor
by preaching to her about her own defects ; nor by over-
running her infancy with books about good boys and girls,
and bad boys and girls, and all that trumpery ; but (and
this is the only important thing I have to say upon the
subject) by putting her in the way of acquiring without
measure or limit such knowledge as will lead her out of
herself, such knowledge as is interesting for its own sake ;
things known because they are interesting, not interesting
because they are known ; in a word, by leaving her at
liberty to luxuriate in such feelings and images as will
feed her mind in silent pleasure. This nourishment is
contained in fairy tales,* romances, the best biographies

* [See ' The Prelude,' Book v., passage ending

* The child, whose love is here, at least, doth reap
One precious gain, that he forgets himself.'

P. 121. — H. R.]

172 ON EDUCATION.

and histories, and such parts of natural history relating to
the powers and appearances of the earth and elements,
and the habits and structure of animals, as belong to it,
not as an art or science, but as a magazine of form and
feeling. This kind of knowledge is purely good, a direct
antidote to every evil to be apprehended, and food abso-
lutely necessary to preserve the mind of a child like yours
from morbid appetites. Next to these objects comes such
knowledge as, while it is chiefly interesting for its own
sake, admits the fellowship of another sort of pleasure,
that of complacence from the conscious exertion of the
faculties and love of praise. The accomplishments of
dancing, music, and drawing, rank under this head ; gram-
mar, learning of languages, botany probably, and out of
the way knowledge of arts and manufactures, &c. The
second class of objects, as far as they tend to feed vanity
and self-conceit, are evil ; but let them have their just
proportion in the plan of education, and they will after-
wards contribute to destroy these, by furnishing the mind
with power and independent gratification : the vanity will
disappear, and the good will remain.

4 Lastly comes that class of objects which are interest-
ing almost solely because they are known, and the
knowledge may be displayed ; and this unfortunately
comprehends three fourths of what, according to the plan
of modern education, children's heads are stuffed with;*
that is, minute, remote, or trifling facts in geography, to-
pography, natural history, chronology, &c., or acquisitions

* [See < The Prelude,' Book v., where, in contrast with such
lore, the Poet speaks of

' knowledge, rightly honoured with that name. —

Knowledge not purchased by the loss of power.'

P. 124. — H. R.]

ON EDUCATION. 173

in art, or accomplishments which the child makes by rote,
and which are quite beyond its age ; things of no value
in themselves, but as they show cleverness ; things hurtful
to any temper, but to a child like yours absolute poison.
Having said thus much, it seems almost impertinent to
add that your child, above all, should, I might say, be
chained down to the severest attention to truth, — I mean
to the minutest accuracy in everything which she relates ;
this will strike at the root of evil by teaching her to
form correct notions of present things, and will steadily
strengthen her mind. Much caution should be taken not
to damp her natural vivacity, for this may have a very
bad effect ; and by the indirect influence of the example
of manly and dignified manners any excessive wildnesses
of her own will be best kept under. Most unrelaxing
firmness should from the present hour be maintained in
withstanding such of her desires as are grossly unreason-
able. But indeed I am forgetting to whom I am speaking,
and am ashamed of these precepts ; they will show my
good will, and in that hope alone can I suffer them to
stand. Farewell, there is great reason to congratulate
yourself in having a child so promising ; and you have
my best and most ardent wishes that she may be a bless-
ing to her parents and every one about her.'

The following is to his friend Archdeacon Wrangham ;
it was written from Allan Bank, Grasmere, in 1808.

'Grasmere, June 5, 1808.
4 My dear Wrangham,
4 1 have this moment received your letter.

1 is a most provoking fellow ; very kind, very

humane, very generous, very ready t» serve, with a thou-
sand other good qualities, but in the practical business of

174 ON EDUCATION.

life the arrantest mar-plan that ever lived. When I first
wrote to you, I wrote also to him, sending the statement
which I sent to you, and begging his exertions among his
friends. By and by comes back my statement, having
undergone a rifacimento from his hands, and printed, with
an accompanying letter, saying that if some of the princi-
pal people in this neighbourhood who had already sub-
scribed would put their names to this paper, testifying that
this was a proper case for charitable interferences, or that
the persons mentioned ivere proper objects of charity, that
he would have the printed paper inserted in the public
newspapers, &c. Upon which, my sister wrote to him,
that in consequence of what had been already subscribed,
and what we had reason to expect from those friends who
were privately stirring in the business, among whom we
chiefly alluded to you, in our own minds, as one on whom
we had most dependence, that there would be no necessity
for public advertisements, but that if among his private
friends he could raise any money for us, we should be very
glad to receive it. And upon this does he write to you in.
this (what shall I call it ? for I am really vexed !) blunder-
ing manner! I will not call upon you to undertake the
awkward task of rebuilding that part of the edifice which

has destroyed, but let what remains be preserved ;

and if a little could be added, there would be no harm. I
must request you to transmit the money to me, with the
names of the persons to whom we are obliged.

4 With regard to the more important part of your letter,
I am under many difficulties. I am writing from a win-
dow which gives me a view of a little boat, gliding quietly
about upon the surface of our basin of a lake. I should
like to be in it, but what could I do with such a vessel in
the heart of the Atlantic Ocean ? As this boat would be

ON EDUCATION. 175

to that navigation, so is my letter to the subject upon which
you would set me afloat. Let me, however, say, that I
have read your sermon (which I lately received from Long-
man) with much pleasure ; I only gave it a cursory
perusal, for since it arrived our family has been in great
confusion, we having removed to another house, in which
we are not yet half settled. The Appendix I had received
before in a frank, and of that I feel myself more entitled
to speak, because I had read it more at leisure. I am
entirely of accord with you in chiefly recommending
religious books for the poor ; but of many of those which
you recommend I can neither speak in praise nor blame,
as I have never read them. Yet, as far as my own
observation goes, which has been mostly employed upon
agricultural persons in thinly-peopled districts, I cannot
find that there is much disposition to read among the
labouring classes, or much occasion for it. Among man-
ufacturers and persons engaged in sedentary employments,
it is, I know, very different. The labouring man in agri-
culture generally carries on his work either in solitude or
with his own family — with persons whose minds he is
thoroughly acquainted with, and with whom he is under
no temptation to enter into discussions, or to compare
opinions. He goes home from the field, or the barn, and
within and about his own house he finds, a hundred little
jobs which furnish him with a change of employment which
is grateful and profitable ; then comes supper, and bed.
This for week-days. For Sabbaths, he goes to church
with us often or mostly twice a day ; .on coming home,
some one turns to the Bible, finds the text, and probably
reads the chapter whence it is taken, or perhaps some
other; and in the afternoon the master or mistress fre-
quently reads the Bible, if alone ; and on this day the
mistress of the house almost always teaches the children

176 ON EDUCATION.

to read, or, as they express it, hears them a lesson ; or if
not thus employed, they visit their neighbours, or receive
them in their own houses as they drop in, and keep up by
the hour a slow and familiar chat. This kind of life, of
which I have seen much, and which I know would be
looked upon with little complacency by many religious
persons, is peaceable, and as innocent as (the frame of
society and the practices of government being what they
are) we have a right to expect ; besides, it is much more
intellectual than a careless observer would suppose. One
of our neighbours, who lives as I have described, was yes-
terday walking with me ; and as we were pacing on,
talking about indifferent matters, by the side of a brook,
he suddenly said to me, with great spirit and a lively smile,
" I like to walk where 1 can hear the sound of a beck ! "
(the word, as you know, in our dialect for a brook).* I
cannot but think that this man, without being conscious of
it, has had many devout feelings connected with the
appearances which have presented themselves to him in
his employment as a shepherd, and that the pleasure of
his heart at that moment was an acceptable offering to the
Divine Being. But to return to the subject of books. I
find among the people I am speaking of, half-penny bal-
lads and penny and two-penny histories in great abun-
dance ; these are often bought as charitable tributes to the
poor persons who hawk them about, (and it is the best way
of procuring them.) They are frequently stitched together

* [See note to sonnet ' On the projected Kendal and Windermere
Railway/ Oct., 1844 . ' The degree and kind of attachment which
many of the yeomanry feel to their small inheritances can scarcely
be overrated. Near the house of one of them stands a magnifi-
cent tree, which a neighbour of the owner advised him to fell for
profit's sake. "Fell it!'' exclaimed the yeoman, "I had rather
fall on my knees and worship it." ' Vol. n. p. 319. — H. R.]

ON EDUCATION. 177

in tolerably thick volumes, and such I have read ; some of
the contents, though not often religious, very good ; others
objectionable, either for the superstition in them, such as
prophecies, fortune-telling, &c., or more frequently for
indelicacy. 1 have so much felt the influence of these
straggling papers, that I have many a time wished that I
had talents to produce songs, poems, and little histories
that might circulate among other good things in this way,
supplanting partly the bad flowers and useless herbs, and
to take place of weeds. Indeed, some of the poems which
I have published were composed, not without a hope that
at some time or other they might answer this purpose.
The kind of library which you recommend would not, I
think, for the reasons given above, be of much direct use
in any of the agricultural districts of Cumberland and
Westmoreland with which I am acquainted, though almost
every person here can read ; I mean of general use as to
morals or behaviour. It might, however, with individuals,
do much in awakening enterprise, calling forth ingenuity,
and fostering genius. I have known several persons who
would eagerly have sought, not after these books merely,
but any books, and would have been most happy in having
such a collection to repair to. The knowledge thus
acquired would also have spread, by being dealt about in
conversation among their neighbours, at the door, and by
the fire-side ; so that it is not easy to foresee how far the
good might extend ; and harm I can see none which would
not be greatly overbalanced by the advantage. The
situation of manufacturers is deplorably .different. The
monotony of their employments renders some sort of
stimulus, intellectual or bodily, absolutely necessary for
them. Their work is carried on in clusters, — men from
different parts of the world, and perpetually changing; so
that every individual is constantly in the way of being

VOL. II. 12

178 ON EDUCATION.

brought into contact with new notions and feelings, and
being unsettled in his own accordingly ; a select library,
therefore, in such situations may be of the same use as a
public dial, keeping everybody's clock in some kind of
order.

' Besides contrasting the manufacturer with the agricul-
turalist, it may be observed, that he has much more
leisure ; and in his over hours, not having other pleasant
employment to turn to, he is more likely to find reading a
relief. What, then, are the books which should be put in
his way ? Without being myself a clergyman, I have no
hesitation in saying, chiefly religious ones ; though I
should not go so far as you seemed inclined to do, ex-
cluding others because they are not according to the letter
or in the spirit of your profession. 1, with you, feel little
disposed to admire several of those mentioned by Gilbert
Burns, much less others which you name as having been
recommended. In Gilbert B.'s collection there may be too
little religion, and I should fear that you, like all other
clergymen, may confine yourself too exclusively to that
concern which you justly deem the most important, but
which by being exclusively considered can never be
thoroughly understood. I will allow, with you, that a
religious faculty is the eye of the soul ; but, if we would
have successful soul-oculists, not merely that organ, but
the general anatomy and constitution of the intellectual
frame must be studied ; for the powers of that eye are
affected by the general state of the system. My meaning
is, that piety and religion will be the best understood by
him who takes the most comprehensive view of the
human mind, and that, for the most part, they will
strengthen with the general strength of the mind, and that
this is best promoted by a due mixture of direct and in-
direct nourishment and discipline. For example, " Par-.

ON EDUCATION. 179

adise Lost," and " Robinson Crusoe," might be as
serviceable as Law's " Serious Call," or Melmoth's
" Great Importance of a Religious Life ; " at least, if the
books be all good, they would mutually assist each other.
In what I have said, though following my own thoughts
merely as called forth by your Appendix, is implied an
answer to your request that I would give you " Jialf an
idea upon education as a national object." I have only
kept upon the surface of the question, but you must have
deduced, that I deem any plan of national education in a
country like ours most difficult to apply to practice. In
Switzerland, or Sweden, or Norway, or France, or Spain,
or anywhere but Great Britain, it would be comparatively
easy. Heaven and hell are scarcely more different from
each other than Sheffield and Manchester, &c., differ from
the plains and valleys of Surrey, Essex, Cumberland, or
Westmoreland. We have mighty cities, and towns of all
sizes, with villages and cottages scattered everywhere.
We are mariners, miners, manufacturers in tens of thou-
sands, traders, husbandmen, everything. What form of
discipline, what books or doctrines — 1 will not say would
equally suit all these — but which, if happily fitted for one,
would not perhaps be an absolute nuisance in another ?
You will, also, have deduced that nothing romantic can be
said with truth of the influence of education upon the
district in which I live. We have, thank Heaven, free
schools, or schools with some endowment, almost every-
where ; and almost every one can read. But not because
we have free or endowed schools, but because our land is,
far more than elsewhere, tilled by men who are the owners
of it ; and as the population is not over-crowded, and the
vices which are quickened and cherished in a crowded
population do not therefore prevail, parents have more
ability and inclination to send their children to school ;

180 ON EDUCATION.

much more than in manufacturing districts, and also,
though in a less degree, more than in agricultural ones
where the tillers are not proprietors. If in Scotland the
children are sent to school, where the parents have not
the advantage I have been speaking of, it is chiefly
because their labour can be turned to no account at home.
Send among them manufacturers, or farmers on a large
scale, and you may indeed substitute Sunday-schools or
other modes of instructing them ; but the ordinaiy parish
schools will be neglected. The influence of our schools
in this neighbourhood can never be understood, if this,
their connection with the state of landed property, be
overlooked. In fact, that influence is not striking. The
people are not habitually religious, in the common sense
of the word, much less godly. The effect of their school-
ing is chiefly seen by the activity with which the young
persons emigrate, and the success attending it ; and at
home, by a general orderliness and gravity, with habits of
independence and self-respect : nothing obsequious or
fawning is ever to be seen amongst them.

1 It may be added, that this ability (from the two causes,
land and schools) of giving their children instruction, con-
tributes to spread a respect for scholarship through the
country. If in any family one of the children should be
quicker at his book, or fonder of it than others, he is often
marked out in consequence for the profession of a cler-
gyman. This (before the mercantile or manufacturing
employments held out such flattering hopes) very gen-
erally happened ; so that the schools of the North were
the great nurseries of curates, several of whom got for-
ward in their profession, some with and others without the
help of a university education ; and, in all instances, such
connection of families (all the members of which lived
in the humblest and plainest manner, working with their

ON EDUCATION. 181

own hands as labourers) with a learned and dignified pro-
fession, assisted (and still does, though in a less degree)
not a little to elevate their feelings, and conferred impor-
tance on them in their own eyes. But I must stop, my
dear Wrangham. Begin your education at the top of
society ; let the head go in the right course, and the tail
will follow. But what can you expect of national educa-
tion conducted by a government which for twenty years
resisted the abolition of the slave trade, and annually
debauches the morals of the people by every possible
device ? holding out temptation with one hand, and
scourging with the other. The distilleries and lotteries
are a standing record that the government cares nothing
for the morals of the people, and that all which they want
is their money. But wisdom and justice are the only true
sources of the revenue of a people ; preach this, and
may you not preach in vain !

4 Wishing you success in every good work, I remain
your affectionate friend,

1 W. WORDSWORTH.

' Thanks for your inquiries about our little boy, who is
well, though not yet quite strong.'

In * THE EXCURSION,' published in 1814, he anticipated
the happiest results from the efforts then made for the
general diffusion of knowledge by public societies in Eng-
land ; and he expressed an earnest desire for the arrival
of the time when the state would regard it as an obliga-
tion laid upon itself to provide for the instruction of the
people.

' 0 for the coming of that glorious time,
When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth

182 ON EDUCATION.

I

And best protection, this imperial Realm,

While sfle exacts allegiance, shall admit

An obligation, on her part to teach

Them who are born to serve her and obey ;

Binding herself by statute to secure

For all the children whom her soil maintains

The rudiments of letters, and inform

The mind with moral and religious truth,

Both understood and practised.' l

The expectations and desires uttered in these lines were
never abandoned, but were in some degree modified and
tempered by subsequent experience and reflection, the
results of which were, in part, communicated to a person
pre-eminent in learning, piety, and ability, whose memory
will long be cherished with feelings of affectionate tender-
ness by all who enjoyed his friendship, and whose name
will ever be identified with the cause of sound religion in
this country — The Rev. HUGH JAMES ROSE, B. D., for-
merly Principal of King's College, London.

A conversation with Mr. Rose on the subject of edu-
cation, in the year 1828, led to the following letters from
Mr. Wordsworth's pen.

1 Excursion, book ix. vol. vi. p. 267. See also the note on the
Madras system ; and the note prefixed to the Thanksgiving Ode
in 1816, vol. iii. p. 241. 'Let me hope that the martial qualities
which I venerate will be fostered by adhering to those good old
usages which experience has sanctioned, and by availing ourselves
of new means of indisputable promise, particularly by applying
in its utmost possible extent that system of tuition whose master-
spring is a habit of gradually enlightened subordination, — by
imparting knowledge, civil, moral, and religious, in such measure
that the mind among all classes of the community may love,
admire, and be prepared to defend that country under whose
protection its faculties have been unfolded.'

ON EDUCATION. 183

To the Rev. Hugh James Rose, Horsham, Sussex.1

'Rydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1828.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 have read your excellent sermons delivered before
the -University2 several times. In nothing were my no-
tions different from yours as there expressed. It happened
that I had been reading just before Bishop Bull's sermon,3
of which you speak so highly : it had struck me just in
the same way as an inestimable production. I was highly
gratified by your discourses, and cannot but think that
they must have been beneficial to the hearers, there
abounds in them so pure a fervour. I have as yet be-
stowed less attention upon your German controversy4
than so important a subject deserves.

4 Since our conversation upon the subject of Education,
I have found no reason to alter the opinions I then ex-
pressed. Of those who seem to me to be in error, two
parties are especially prominent; they, the most con-
spicuous head of whom is Mr. Brougham, who think that
sharpening of intellect and attainment of knowledge are

1 1 am indebted for these letters to the kindness of Mrs. H. J.
Kose.

a 'On the Commission and consequent Duties of the Clergy,'
preached before the University of Cambridge, in April, 1826, and
published in 1828.

3 The title of which is, ' The Priest's Office difficult and dan-
gerous.' It will be found in vol. i. p. 137, of Dr. Burton's edition
of the bishop's works.

4 ' The State of the Protestant Religion in Germany,' a series of
discourses preached before the University of Cambridge, by the
Rev. Hugh James Rose; Lond. 1825: and his 'Letter to the
Bishop of London, in reply to Mr. Pusey's work on that subject ; '
Lond. 1829.

184 ON EDUCATION.

things good in themselves, without reference to the cir-
cumstances under which the intellect is sharpened, or to
the quality of the knowledge acquired. " Knowledge,"
says Lord Bacon, " is power," but surely not less for evil
than for good. Lord Bacon spoke like a philosopher;
but they who have that maxim in their mouths the oftenest,
have the least understanding of it.

' The other class consists of persons who are aware of
the importance of religion and morality above everything ;
but, from not understanding the constitution of our nature
and the composition of society, they are misled and hur-
ried on by zeal in a course which cannot but lead to
disappointment. One instance of this fell under my own
eyes the other day in the little town of Ambleside, where
a party, the leaders of which are young ladies, are deter-
mined to set up a school for girls on the Madras system,
confidently expecting that these girls will in consequence
be less likely to go astray when they grow up to women.
Alas, alas ! they may be taught, I own, more quickly to
read and write under the Madras system, and to answer
more readily, and perhaps with more intelligence, ques-
tions put to them, than they could have done under dame-
teaching. But poetry may, with deference to the philos-
opher and the religionist, be consulted in these matters ;
and I will back Shenstone's schoolmistress, by her win-
ter fire and in her summer garden-seat, against all Dr.
Bell's sour-looking teachers in petticoats that I have ever
seen.

4 What is the use of pushing on the education of girls
so fast, and mainly by the stimulus of Emulation, who,
to say nothing worse of her, is cousin-german to Envy ?
What are you to do with these girls ? what demand is
there for the ability that they may have prematurely
acquired ? Will they not be indisposed to bend to any

ON EDUCATION. 185

kind of hard labour or drudgery ? and yet many of them
must submit to it, or do wrong. The mechanism of the
Bell system is not required in small places ; praying after
the fugleman is not like praying at a mother's knee. The
Bellites overlook the difference : they talk about moral
discipline ; but wherein does it encourage the imaginative
feelings, without which the practical understanding is of
little avail, and too apt to become the cunning slave of the
bad passions. I dislike display in everything ; above all
in education. . . . The old dame did not affect to
make theologians or logicians ; but she taught to read ;
and she practised the memory, often, no doubt, by rote ;
but still the faculty was improved : something, perhaps,
she explained, and trusted the rest to parents, to masters,
and to the pastor of the parish. I am sure as good
daughters, as good servants, as good mothers and wives,
were brought up at that time as now, when the world is so
much less humble-minded. A hand full of employment,
and a head not above it, with such principles and habits
as may be acquired without the Madras machinery, are
the best security for the chastity of wives of the lower
rank.

4 Farewell. I have exhausted my paper.

1 Your affectionate

4 W. ,WORDSWORTH.'

Perhaps it may be thought by some that Mr. Wordsworth
does not quite enough take into account the fact, that it is
no longer an open question whether the lower classes shall
be instructed or no; and that, in the present general
diffusion of knowledge, it is a measure of protection and
defence, due to them and to society, to instruct them well.
The next letter was as follows :

186 ON EDUCATION.

4 My dear Sir,

4 1 have taken a folio sheet to make certain minutes
upon the subject of EDUCATION.

4 As a Christian preacher your business is with man as
an immortal being. Let us imagine you to be addressing
those, and those only, who would gladly co-operate with
you in any course of education which is most likely to
ensure to men a happy immortality. Are you satisfied
with that course which the most active of this class are
bent upon ? Clearly not, as I remember from your con-
versation, which is confirmed by your last letter. Great
principles, you hold, are sacrificed to shifts and expedients.
I agree with you. What more sacred law of nature, for
instance, than that the mother should educate her child ?
yet we felicitate ourselves upon the establishment of in-
fant schools, which is in direct opposition to it. Nay, we
interfere with the maternal instinct before the child is born,
by furnishing, in cases where there is no necessity, the
mother with baby-linen for her unborn child. Now, that
in too many instances a lamentable necessity may exist
for this, I allow ; but why should such charity be obtruded ?
Why should so many excellent ladies form themselves
into committees, and rush into an almost indiscriminate
benevolence, which precludes the poor mother from the
strongest motive human nature can be actuated by for
industry, for forethought, and self-denial ? When the
stream has thus been poisoned at its fountain-head, we
proceed, by separating, through infant schools, the mother
from the child, and from the rest of the family, disburthen-
ing them of all care of the little one for perhaps eight
hours of the day. To those who think this an evil, but a
necessary one, much might be said, in order to qualify
unreasonable expectations. But there are thousands of

ON EDUCATION. 187

stirring people now in England, who are so far misled as
to deem these schools good in themselves, and to wish that,
even in the smallest villages, the children of the poor
should have what they call " a good education " in this
way. Now, these people (and no error is at present more
common) confound education with tuition.

1 Education, I need not remark to you, is everything
that draws out the human being, of which tuition, the
teaching of schools especially, however important, is com-
paratively an insignificant part. Yet the present bent of
the public mind is to sacrifice the greater power to the
less — all that life and nature teach, to the little that can
be learned from books and a master. In the eyes of an
enlightened statesman this is absurd ; in the eyes of a
pure lowly-minded Christian it is monstrous.

4 The Spartan and other ancient communities might
disregard domestic ties, because they had the substitution
of country, which we cannot have. With us, country is
a mere name compared with what it was to the Greeks ;
first, as contrasted with barbarians ; and next, and above
all, as that passion only was strong enough to preserve
the individual, his family, and the whole state, from ever-
impending destruction. Our course is to supplant domestic
attachments without the possibility of substituting others
more capacious. What can grow out of it but selfish-
ness ?

4 Let it then be universally admitted that infant schools
are an evil, only tolerated to qualify a greater, viz., the
inability of mothers to attend to their .children, and the
like inability of the elder to take care of the younger,
from their labour being wanted in factories, or elsewhere,
for their common support. But surely this is a sad state
of society ; and if these expedients of tuition or education
(if that word is not to be parted with) divert our attention

188 ON EDUCATION.

from the fact that the remedy for so mighty an evil must
be sought elsewhere, they are most pernicious things, and
the sooner they are done away with the better.

' But even as a course of tuition, I have strong objec-
tions to infant schools ; and in no small degree to the
Madras system also. We must not be deceived by pre-
mature adroitness. The intellect must not be trained with
a view to what the infant or child may perform, without
constant reference to what that performance promises for
the man. It is with the mind as with the body. I recollect
seeing a German babe stuffed with beer and beef, who
had the appearance of an infant Hercules. He might
have enough in him of the old Teutonic blood to grow up
to a strong man ; but tens of thousands would dwindle and
perish after such unreasonable cramming. Now I cannot
but think, that the like would happen with our modern
pupils, if the views of the patrons of these schools were
realized. The diet they offer is not the natural diet for
infant and juvenile minds. The faculties are overstrained,
and not exercised with that simultaneous operation which
ought to be aimed at as far as is practicable. Natural
history is taught in infant schools by pictures stuck up
against walls, and such mummery. A moment's notice
of a red-breast pecking by a winter's hearth is worth it
all.

4 These hints are for the negative side of the question :
and for the positive, — what conceit, and presumption,
and vanity, and envy, and mortification, and hypocrisy,
&c. &c., are the unavoidable result of schemes where
there is so much display and contention ! All this is at
enmity with Christianity ; and if the practice of sincere
churchmen in this matter be so, what have we not to fear
when we cast our eyes upon other quarters where religious
instruction is deliberately excluded ? The wisest of us

ON EDUCATION. 189

expect far too much from school teaching. One of the
most innocent, contented, happy, and, in his sphere, most
useful men whom I know, can neither read nor write.
Though learning and sharpness of wit must exist some-
where, to protect, and in some points to interpret the
Scriptures, yet we are told that the Founder of this relig-
ion rejoiced in spirit, that things were hidden from the
wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes : and again,
" Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast
perfected praise." Apparently, the infants here contem-
plated were under a very different course of discipline
from that which many in our day are condemned to. In
a town of Lancashire, about nine in the morning, the
streets resound with the crying of infants, wheeled off in
carts and other vehicles (some ladies, I believe, lending
their carriages for this purpose) to their school-prisons.

' But to go back a little. Human learning, as far as it
tends to breed pride and self-estimation (and that it
requires constant vigilance to counteract this tendency we
must all feel), is against the spirit of the Gospel. Much
cause then is there to lament that inconsiderate zeal,
wherever it is found, which whets the intellect by blunting
the affections. Can it, in a general view, be good, that an
infant should learn much which its parents do not know ?
Will not the child arrogate a superiority unfavourable to
love and obedience ?

4 But suppose this to be an evil only for the present gen-
eration, and that a succeeding race of infants will have no
such advantage over their parents ; stilL it may be asked,
should we not be making these infants too much the crea-
tures of society when we cannot make them more so ?
Here would they be for eight hours in the day like plants
in a conservatory. What is to become of them for the
other sixteen hours, when they are returned to all the

190 ON EDUCATION.

influences, the dread of which first suggested this contriv-
ance ? Will they be better able to resist the mischief
they may be exposed to from the bad example of their
parents, or brothers and sisters ? It is to be feared not,
because, though they must have heard many good pre-
cepts, their condition in school is artificial ; they have been
removed from the discipline and exercise of humanity,
and they have, besides, been subject to many evil tempta-
tions within school and peculiar to it.

c In the present generation I cannot see anything of an
harmonious co-operation between these schools and home
influences. If the family be thoroughly bad, and the
child cannot be removed altogether, how feeble the bar-
rier, how futile the expedient ! If the family be of middle
character, the children will lose more by separation from
domestic cares and reciprocal duties, than they can possi-
bly gain from captivity with such formal instruction as
may be administered.

1 We are then brought round to the point, that it is to a
physical and not a moral necessity that we must look, if
we would justify this disregard, I had almost said viola-
tion, of a primary law of human nature. The link of
eleemosynary tuition connects the infant school with the
national schools upon the Madras system. Now I cannot
but think that there is too much indiscriminate gratuitous
instruction in this country ; arising out of the misconcep-
tion above adverted to, of the real power of school teach-
ing, relatively to the discipline of life ; and out of an
over-value of talent, however exerted, and of knowledge
prized for its own sake, and acquired in the shape of
knowledge. The latter clauses of the last sentence glance
rather at the London University and the Mechanics' Insti-
tutes than at the Madras schools, yet they have some
bearing upon these also. Emulation, as I observed in my

ON EDUCATION. 191

last letter, is the master-spring of that system. It mingles
too much with all teaching, and with all learning ; but in
the Madras mode it is the great wheel which puts every
part of the machine into motion.

4 But I have been led a little too far from gratuitous
instruction. If possible, instruction ought never to be alto-
gether so. A child will soon learn to feel a stronger love
and attachment to its parents, when it perceives that they
are making sacrifices for its instruction. All that precept
can teach is nothing compared with convictions of this
kind. In short, unless book attainments are carried on by
the side of moral influences they are of no avail. Grati-
tude is one of the most benign of moral influences ; can
a child be grateful to a corporate body for its instruction ?
or grateful even to the Lady Bountiful of the neighbour-
hood, with all the splendour which he sees about her, as
he would be grateful to his poor father and mother, who
spare from their scanty provision a mite for the culture of
his mind at school ? If we look back upon the progress
of things in this country since the Reformation, we shall
find, that instruction has never been severed from moral
influences and purposes, and the natural action of circum-
stances, in the way that is now attempted. Our fore-
fathers established, in abundance, free grammar schools ;
but for a distinctly understood religious purpose. They
were designed to provide against a relapse of the nation
into Popery, by diffusing a knowledge of the languages in
which the Scriptures are written, so that a sufficient num-
ber might be aware how small a portion of the popish
belief had a foundation in Holy Writ.

4 It is undoubtedly to be desired that every one should
be able to read, and perhaps (for that is far from being
equally apparent) to write. But you will agree with me,
I think, that these attainments are likely to turn to better

192 ON EDUCATION.

account where they are not gratuitously lavished, and
where either the parents and connections are possessed of
certain property which enables them to procure the instruc-
tion for their children, or where, by their frugality and
other serious and self-denying habits, they contribute, as
far as they can, to benefit their offspring in this way.
Surely, whether we look at the usefulness and happiness
of the individual, or the prosperity and security of the
state, this, which was the course of our ancestors, is the
better course. Contrast it with that recommended by men,
in whose view knowledge and intellectual adroitness are to
do everything of themselves.

4 We have no guarantee on the social condition of these
well informed pupils for the use they may make of their
power and their knowledge : the scheme points not to
man as a religious being ; its end is an unworthy one ;
and its means do not pay respect to the order of things.
Try the Mechanics' Institutes and the London University,
&c., &c., by this test. The powers are not co-ordinate
with those to which this nation owes its virtue and its pros-
perity. Here is, in one case, a sudden formal abstraction
of a vital principle, and in both an unnatural and violent
pushing on. Mechanics' Institutes make discontented
spirits and insubordinate and presumptuous workmen.
Such at least was the opinion of Watt, one of the most
experienced and intelligent of men. And instruction,
where religion is expressly excluded, is little less to be
dreaded than that by which it is trodden under foot. And,
for my own part, I cannot look without shuddering on the
array of surgical midwifery lectures, to which the youth
of London were invited at the commencement of this
season by the advertisements of the London University.
Hogarth understood human nature better than these pro-
fessors : his picture I have not seen for many long years,

ON EDUCATION. 193

but I think his last stage of cruelty is in the dissecting
room.

1 But I must break off, or you will have double postage
to pay for this letter. Pray excuse it ; and pardon the
style, which is, purposely, as meagre as I could make it,
for the sake of brevity. I hope that you can gather the
meaning, and that is enough. I find that I have a few
moments to spare, and will, therefore, address a word to
those who may be inclined to ask, what is the use of all
these objections ? The schoolmaster is, and will remain,
abroad. The thirst of knowledge is spreading and will
spread, whether virtue and duty go along with it or no.
Grant it ; but surely these observations may be of use if
they tend to check unreasonable expectations. One of
the most difficult tasks is to keep benevolence in alliance
with beneficence. Of the former there is no want, but
we do not see our way to the latter. Tenderness of heart
is indispensable for a good man, but a certain sternness of
heart is as needful for a wise one. We are as impatient
under the evils of society as under our own, and more so ;
for in the latter case, necessity enforces submission. It is
hard to look upon the condition in which so many of our
fellow-creatures are born, but they are not to be raised
from it by partial and temporary expedients : it is not
enough to rush headlong into any new scheme that may
be proposed, be it Benefit Societies, Savings7 Banks, In-
fant Schools, Mechanic Institutes, or any other. Circum-
stances have forced this nation to do, by its manufacturers,
an undue portion of the dirty and unwholesome work of
the globe. The revolutions among which we have lived
have unsettled the value of all kinds of property, and of
labour, the most precious of all, to that degree, that
misery and privation are frightfully prevalent. We must
bear the sight of this, and endure its pressure, till we have

VOL. II. 13

194 ON EDUCATION.

by reflection discovered the cause, and not till then can
we hope even to palliate the evil. It is a thousand to one
but that the means resorted to will aggravate it.

4 Farewell, ever affectionately yours,

4 W. WOKDSWORTH.

4 Quere. — Is the education in the parish schools of
Scotland gratuitous, or if not, in what degree is it so ? '

This letter may be followed by a few lines, addressed
by Mr. Wordsworth to his brother, the late Master of
Trinity, on the same subject.

To the Rev. Dr. Wordsworth.

'Rydal Mount, April 27, 1830.
4 My dear Brother,

4 Was Mr. Rose's course of sermons upon education ?
The more I reflect upon the subject, the more I am con-
vinced that positive instruction, even of a religious char-
acter, is much over-rated. The education of man, and
above all of a Christian, is the education of duty, which
is most forcibly taught by the business and concerns of
life, of which, even for children, especially the children
of the poor, book-learning is but a small part. There is
an officious disposition on the part of the upper and
middle classes to precipitate the tendency of the people
towards intellectual culture in a manner subversive of
their own happiness, and dangerous to the peace of so-
ciety. It is mournful to observe of how little avail are
lessons of piety taught at school, if household attentions
and obligations be neglected in consequence of the time
taken up in school tuition, and if the head be stuffed with

ON EDUCATION. 195

vanity from the gentlemanliness of the employment of

<W. W.'

reading. Farewell.

His apprehensions with respect to the tendencies of
modern systems of tuition are expressed in the following
lines, written in or about 1837.

1 The Stream [of Time]
Has to our generation brought and brings
Innumerable gains ; yet we, who now
Walk in the light of day, pertain full surely
To a chilled age, most pitiably shut out
From that which is and actuates, by forms,
Abstractions, and by lifeless fact to fact
Minutely linked with diligence uninspired,
Unrectified, unguided, unsustained,
By godlike insight. To this fate is doomed
Science, wide-spread and spreading still as be
Her conquests, in the world of sense made known.
So with the internal mind it fares ; and so
With morals, trusting, in contempt or fear
Of vital principle's controlling law,
To her purblind guide Expediency ; and so
Suffers religious Faith. Elate with view
Of what is won, we overlook or scorn
The best that should keep pace with it, and must,
Else more and more the general mind will droop,
Even as if bent on perishing. There lives
No faculty within us which the Soul
Can spare, and humblest earthly Weal demands,
For dignity not placed beyond her reach,
Zealous co-operation of all means
Given or acquired, to raise us from the mire,
And liberate our hearts from low pursuits.
By gross Utilities enslaved we need
More of ennobling impulse from the past,
If to the future aught of good must come
Sounder and therefore holier than the ends

196 ON EDUCATION.

"Which, in the giddiness of self-applause,
"We covet as supreme. 0 grant the crown
That Wisdom wears, or take his treacherous staff
From Knowledge ! ' 1

In connection with the subject of education, it may be
relevant to introduce a speech delivered2 by Mr. Words-
worth, one of the few specimens in existence of his
oratorical powers,* on the occasion of laying the first

1 Musings near Aquapendente, vol. iii. p. 152.

2 This Report is the ' substance of what Mr. Wordsworth de-
sired to convey to his hearers,' and was ' furnished by himself.'
I am indebted for it to the Rev. R. P. Graves, of Windermere,
under whose excellent direction the arrangements of the day were
conducted.

* [See ' Life and Correspondence ' of Southey for an account
given by Dr. Mackenzie of a specimen of Wordsworth's argumen-
tative powers exercised in public. In 1836, at the assizes at Lan-
caster, an important will case turned upon the character of certain
letters purporting to have been written by the testator ; and
Wordsworth, Southey, Dr. Lingard, the historian, Dr. Mackenzie
and other literary men were subpoenaed to give opinion on this
subject. Dr. Mackenzie describes Wordsworth's opinion as given
at t a board of law ' :

' At our meeting on the preceding evening, Mr. Wordsworth
gave his opinion of the letters to this effect, judging from external
as well as internal evidence, that though they came from one
hand, they did not emanate from one and the same mind; that a
man commencing to write letters might do so very badly, but as
he advanced in life, particularly if he wrote many letters, he
would probably improve in style ; such improvement being con-
stant and not capricious. That is, if he gradually learned to
spell and write properly, he would not fall back at intervals into
his original errors of composition and spelling — that if once he
had got out of his ignorance he could not fall back into it, except
by design — that the human mind advances, but cannot recede,
unless warped by insanity or weakened by disease. The conclu-
sion arrived at, which facts afterwards proved, was, that the ine-

ON EDUCATION. 197

stone of new schools at Bowness, Windermere, on
Wednesday, April 13, 1836 ; a rainy day.

Mr. Wordsworth took part in that ceremony as the rep-
resentative of the founder of those schools, JOHN BOLTON,
Esq. of Storrs, who had then completed his eightieth
year.

4 Standing here as Mr. Bolton's substitute, at his own
request, an honour of which I am truly sensible, it gives
me peculiar pleasure to see, in spite of this stormy weather,
so numerous a company of his friends and neighbours upon
this occasion. How happy would it have made him to
have been eye-witness of an assemblage which may fairly
be regarded as a proof of the interest felt in his benevo-
lent undertaking, and an earnest that the good work will
not be done in vain. Sure I am, also, that there is no one
present who does not deeply regret the cause why that
excellent man cannot appear among us. The public
spirit of Mr. Bolton has ever been remarkable, both for
its comprehensiveness and the judicious way in which it
has been exerted. Many years ago, when we were threat-
ened with foreign invasion, he equipped and headed a
body of volunteers for the defence of our country. Not

quality in the letters arose from their being composed by different
persons, some ignorant and some well-in formed, while another
person always copied them fairly for the post.

' This is the sum of what Mr. Wordsworth at great length and
very elaborately declared as the result he had arrived at. It was
thought piled on thought, clear investigation, careful analysis,
and accumulative reasoning. — While Wordsw'orth was speaking,
I noticed that Southey listened with great attention.'

Southey writing to Mr. Henry Taylor, says— ' Wordsworth is
now a " Sworn Critic and Appraiser of Composition ; " and he has
the whole honour to himself, — an honour, I believe, of which
there is no other example in literary history.' Vol. vi. Chap,
xxxvi. p. 297 - 300. — H. R.]

198 ON EDUCATION.

long since, the inhabitants of Ulverston (his native place
I believe) were indebted to him for a large contribution
towards erecting a church in that town. His recent mu-
nificent donations to the public charities of Liverpool are
well known ; and I only echo the sentiments of this meet-
ing when I say that every one would have rejoiced to see
a gentleman (who has completed his eightieth year) taking
the lead in this day's proceedings, for which there would
have been no call, but for his desire permanently to ben-
efit a district in which he has so long been a resident
proprietor. It may be gathered from old documents, that,
upwards of 200 years ago, this place was provided with a
school, which early in the reign of Charles II. was endowed
by the liberality of certain persons of the neighbourhood.
The building, originally small and low, has long been in
a state which rendered the erection of a new one very
desirable ; this Mr. Bolton has undertaken to do at his sole
expense. The structure, which is to supersede the old
school-house, will have two apartments, airy, spacious
and lofty, one for boys, the other for girls ; in which they
will be instructed by respective teachers, and not crowded
together as in the old school-room, under one and the
same person : each room will be capable of containing,
at least, 100 children. Within the enclosure there will
be spacious and separate play-grounds for the boys and
girls, with distinct covered sheds to play in in wet weather.
There will also be a library-room for the school, and con-
taining books for the benefit of the neighbourhood ; and,
in short, every arrangement that could be desired. It
may be added, that the building, from the elegance of its
architecture, and its elevated, spacious situation, will prove
a striking ornament to the beautiful country in the midst
of which it will stand. Such being the advantages pro-
posed, allow me to express a hope that they will be turned

ON EDUCATION. 199

to the best possible account. The privilege of the school
being free, will not, I trust, tempt parents to withdraw
their children from punctual attendance, upon slight and
trivial occasions ; and they will take care, as far as de-
pends upon themselves, that the wishes of the present
benefactor may be met and his intentions fulfilled. Those
wishes and intentions I will take upon me to say, are
consonant to what has been expressed in the original
trust-deed of the pious and sensible men already spoken
of, who in that instrument declare, that they have pro-
vided a fund u towards the finding and maintenance of an
able schoolmaster, and repairing the school-house from
time to time, for ever; for teaching and instructing of
youth within the said hamlets, in grammar, writing, read-
ing, and other good learning and discipline meet and con-
venient for them ; for the honour of God, for the better
advancement and preferment of the said youth, and to
the perpetual and thankful remembrance of the founders
and authors of so good a work." The effect of this beau-
tiful summary upon your minds will not, I hope, be weak-
ened if I make a brief comment upon the several clauses
of it, which will comprise nearly the whole of what I feel
prompted to say upon this occasion. 1 will take the
liberty, however, of inverting the order in which the pur-
poses of these good men are mentioned, beginning at
what they end with. " The perpetual and thankful remem-
brance of the founders and authors of so good a work."
Do not let it be supposed that your forefathers, when they
looked onwards to this issue, did so from vanity and love
of applause, uniting with local attachment ; they wished
their good works to be remembered principally because
they were conscious that such remembrance would be
beneficial to the hearts of those whom they desired to
serve, and would effectually promote the particular good

200 ON EDUCATION.

they had in view. Let me add for them, what their mod-
esty and humility would have prevented their insisting
upon, that such tribute of grateful recollection was, and is
still their due ; for if gratitude be not the most perfect
shape of justice, it is assuredly her most beautiful crown,
— a halo and glory with which she delights to have her
brows encircled. So much of this gratitude as those good
men hoped for, I may bespeak for your neighbour, who is
now animated by the same spirit, and treading in their
steps. The second point to which I shall advert is, that
where it is said that such and such things shall be taught
"for the better advancement and preferment of the said
youth" This purpose is as honourable as it is natural,
and recalls to remembrance the time when the northern
counties had, in this particular, great advantages over the
rest of England. By the zealous care of many pious and
good men, among whom I cannot but name (from his
connection with this neighbourhood, and the benefits he
conferred upon it) Archbishop Sandys, free schools were
founded in these parts of the kingdom in much greater
numbers than elsewhere. The learned professions de-
rived many ornaments from this source ; but a more
remarkable consequence was, that, till within the last
forty years or so, merchants' counting-houses, and offices,
in the lower departments of which a certain degree of
scholastic attainment was requisite, were supplied, in a
great measure from Cumberland and Westmoreland. Nu-
merous and large fortunes were the result of the skill,
industry, and integrity, which the young men thus in-
structed carried with them to the metropolis. That
superiority no longer exists ; not so much, I trust, from a
slackening on the part of the teachers, or an indisposition
of the inhabitants to profit by their free schools, but
because the kingdom at large has become sensible of the

ON EDUCATION. 201

advantages of school instruction ; and we of the north
consequently have competitors from every quarter. Let
not this discourage, but rather stimulate us to more stren-
uous endeavours ; so that if we do not keep ahead of the
rest of our countrymen, we may at least take care not to
be left behind in the race of honourable ambition. Rut,
after all, worldly advancement and preferment neither are
nor ought to be the main end of instruction, either in
schools or elsewhere, and particularly in those which are
in rural places and scantily endowed. It is in the order
of Providence, as we are all aware, that most men must
end their temporal course pretty much as they began it ;
nor will the thoughtful repine at this dispensation. In
lands where nature in the many is not trampled upon by
injustice, feelingly may the peasant say to the courtier,

" The sun, that bids your diamond blaze,
To deck our lily deigns.''

Contentment, according to the common adage, is better
than riches : and why is it better ? Not merely because
there can be no happiness without it, but for the sake,
also, of its moral dignity. Mankind, we know, are placed
on earth to have their hearts and understandings exercised
and improved, some in one sphere, and some in another,
— to undergo various trials, and to perform divers duties ;
that duty which, in the world's estimation, may seem the
least, often being the most important in the eyes of our
heavenly Father. Well and wisely has it been said, in
words which I need not scruple to quote here, where ex-
treme poverty and abject misery are unknown :

" God doth not need

Either man's work or I is own gifts ; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best ; his state
Is kingly — thousands at his bidding speed

202 ON EDUCATION.

And post o'er land and ocean without rest ;
They also serve who only stand and wait."

Thus am I naturally led to the third and last point in the
declaration of the ancient trust-deed, which I mean to
touch upon : " Youth shall be instructed in grammar,
writing, reading, and other good discipline, meet and
convenient for them, for the honour of God" Now, my
friends and neighbours, much as we must admire the zeal
and activity which have of late years been shown in the
teaching of youth, I will candidly ask those among you,
who have had sufficient opportunities to observe, whether
the instruction given in many schools is, in fact, meet and
convenient. In the building about to be erected here, I
have not the smallest reason for dreading that it will be
otherwise. But I speak in the hearing of persons who
may be active in the management of schools elsewhere ;
and they will excuse me for saying, that many are con-
ducted at present so as to afford melancholy proof that
instruction is neither meet nor convenient for the pupils
there taught, nor, indeed, for the human mind in any rank
or condition of society. I am not going to say that relig-
ious instruction, the most important of all, is neglected ;
far from it : but I affirm, that it is too often given with
reference, less to the affections, to the imagination, and to
the practical duties, than to subtle distinctions in points of
doctrine, and to facts in scripture history, of which a
knowledge may be brought out by a catechetical process.
This error, great though it be, ought to be looked at with
indulgence, because it is a tempting thing for teachers
unduly to exercise the understanding and memory, inas-
much as progress in the departments in which these facul-
ties are employed, is thus most obviously proved to the
teacher himself, and most flatteringly exhibited to the
inspectors of schools and casual lookers-on. A still more

ON EDUCATION. 203

lamentable error, which proceeds much from the same
cause, is an overstrained application to mental processes
of arithmetic and mathematics, and a too minute attention
to departments of natural and civil history. How much
of trick may mix with this we will not ask ; but the
display of precocious intellectual power in these branches is
often astonishing ; and, in proportion as it is so, may, for
the most part, be pronounced not only useless, but inju-
rious. The training that fits a boxer for victory in the
ring, gives him strength that cannot, and is not required,
to be kept up for ordinary labour, and often lays the
foundation of subsequent weakness and fatal disease. In
like manner, there being in after life no call for these
extraordinary powers of mind, and little use for the know-
ledge, the powers decay, and the knowledge withers and
drops off. Here is then not only a positive injury, but a
loss of opportunities for culture of intellect and acquiring
information, which, as being in a course of regular de-
mand, would be hereafter, the one strengthened and the
other naturally increased. All this mischief, my friends,
originates in a decay of that feeling which our fathers had
uppermost in their hearts, viz., that the business of educa-
tion should be conducted for the honour of God. And
here I must direct your attention to a fundamental mistake,
by which this age, so distinguished for Us marvellous pro-
gress in arts and sciences, is unhappily characterized —
a mistake, manifested in the use of the word education,
which is habitually confounded with tuition, or school
instruction ; this is indeed a very important part of educa-
tion, but when it is taken for the whole, we are deceived
and betrayed. Education, according to the derivation of
the word, and in the only use of which it is strictly justi-
fiable, comprehends all those processes and influences,
come from whence they may, that conduce to the best

204 ON EDUCATION.

development of the bodily powers, and of the moral,
intellectual, and spiritual faculties which the position of
the individual admits of. In this just and high sense of
the word, the education of a sincere Christian, and a good
member of society upon Christian principles, does not
terminate with his youth, but goes on to the last moment
of his conscious earthly existence — an education not for
time but for eternity. To education like this is indispen-
sably necessary, as co-operating with schoolmasters and
ministers of the gospel, the never-ceasing vigilance of
parents ; not so much exercised in superadding their pains
to that of the schoolmaster or minister in teaching lessons
or catechisms, or by enforcing maxims or precepts (though
this part of their duty ought to be habitually kept in mind),
but by care over their own conduct. It is through the
silent operation of example in their own well-regulated
behaviour, and by accustoming their children early to the
discipline of daily and hourly life, in such offices and
employment as the situation of the family requires, and as
are suitable to tender years, that parents become infinitely
the most important tutors of their children, without appear-
ing, or positively meaning, to be so. This education of
circumstances has happily, in this district, not yet been
much infringed upon by experimental novelties ; parents
here are anxious to send their offspring to those schools
where knowledge substantially useful is inculcated, and
those arts most carefully taught for which in after life
there will be most need ; this is especially true of the
judgments of parents respecting the instruction of their
daughters, which / know they would wish to be confined
to reading, writing, and arithmetic, and plain needlework,
or any other art favourable to economy and home-comforts.
Their shrewd sense perceives that hands full of employ-
ment, and a head not above it, afford the best protection

ON EDUCATION. 205

against restlessness and discontent, and all the perilous
temptations to which, through them, youthful females are
exposed. It is related of Burns, the celebrated Scottish
poet, that once, while in the company of a friend, he was
looking from an eminence over a wide tract of country,
he said that the sight of so many smoking cottages gave
a pleasure to his mind that none could understand who
had not witnessed, like himself, the happiness and worth
which they contained. How were those happy and worthy
people educated ? By the influence of hereditary good
example at home, and by their parochial schoolmasters
opening the way for the admonitions and exhortations of
their clergy ; that was at a time when knowledge was,
perhaps, better than now distinguished from smatterings
of information, and when knowledge was more thought of
in due subordination to wisdom. How was the evening
before the sabbath then spent by the families among which
the Poet was brought up ? He has himself told us in
imperishable verse. The Bible was brought forth, and
after the father of the family had reverently laid aside his
bonnet, passages of Scripture were read ; and the Poet
thus describes what followed :

" Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King,

The saint, the father, and the husband prays ;
Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing,

That thus they all shall meet in future days :
There ever bask in uncreated rays,

No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear ;
Together hymning their Creator's praise,

In such society, yet still more dear j"
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere."

May He who enlightened the understanding of those cot-
tagers with a knowledge of himself for the entertainment
of such hope, " who sanctified their affections that they

206 ON EDUCATION.

might love Him, and put His fear into their hearts that
they might dread to offend Him" — may He who, in pre-
paring for these blessed effects, disdained not the humble
instrumentality of parochial schools, enable this of ours,
by the discipline and teaching pursued in it, to sow seeds
for a like harvest ! In this wish I am sure, my friends,
you will all fervently join. And now, after renewing our
expression of regret that the benevolent founder is not
here to perform the ceremony himself, we will proceed to
lay the first stone of the intended edifice.'

[In connection with the subject of this chapter, the following
sonnet, addressed to the author of these ' Memoirs,' then holding
a different official station, may be appropriately appended here :

' To THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D. D., Master of
Harrow School, after the perusal of his "Theophilus Anglicanus,"
recently published.

ENLIGHTENED Teacher, gladly from thy hand
Have I received this proof of pains bestowed
By thee, to guide thy pupils on the road
That, in our native isle, and every land,
The Church, when trusting in divine command
Arid in her catholic attributes, hath trod :
0 may these lessons be with profit scanned
To thy heart's wish, thy labour blest by God!
So the bright faces of the young and gay
Shall look more bright — the happy, happier still ;
Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play,
Motions of thought which elevate the will,
And, like the Spire that from your classic Hill
Points heavenward, indicate the end and way.
Rydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1843.' Vol. n. p. 316. — H. R.]

CHAPTER XLVI.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

VARIOUS letters from Mr. Wordsworth's pen, and belong-
ing to this period, have come into my hands. For the
most part they consist of brief notices of different topics,
and do not easily admit of classification according to the
nature of their contents. I shall therefore select some
materials from them, arranged in chronological order, for
the purpose of giving a view of his literary life at this
period, and of placing before the reader his opinions on
matters of public and permanent interest, and also of
affording specimens of his epistolary intercourse with his
friends.

Let me observe here, once for all, that in making 'this
selection I have endeavoured not to lose sight of those
principles which ought to regulate the publication of such
communications.

The two following are to his friend Archdeacon Wrang-
lium.

To the Venerable Archdeacon Wrangham.

'Rydal Mount, Feb. 19, 1819.
4 Dear Wrangham,

4 1 received your kind letter last night, for which you
will accept my thanks. I write upon the spur of that

208 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819 - 1830.

mark of your regard, or my aversion to letter-writing
might get the better of me.

4 I find it difficult to speak publicly of good men while
alive, especially if they are persons who have power.
The world ascribes the eulogy to interested motives, or
to an adulatory spirit, which 1 detest. But of LORD LONS-
DALE, I will say to you, that I do not think there exists in
England a man of any rank more anxiously desirous to
discharge his duty in that state of life to which it has
pleased God to call him. His thought and exertions are
constantly directed to that object ; and the more he is
known, the more is he beloved and respected and ad-
mired.

' I ought to have thanked you before for your version of
VIRGIL'S ECLOGUES, which reached me at last. I have
lately compared it line for line with the original, and think
it very well done. I was particularly pleased with the
skill you have shown in managing the contest between the
shepherds in the third Pastoral, where you have included
in a succession of couplets the sense of Virgil's paired
hexameters. I think 1 mentioned to you that these poems
of Virgil have always delighted me much ; there is fre-
quently either an elegance and a happiness which no
translation can hope to equal. In point of fidelity your
translation is very good indeed.

4 You astonish me with the account of your books; and
I should have been still more astonished if you had told
me you had read a third (shall I say a tenth part?) of
them. My reading powers were never very good, and
now they are much diminished, especially by candle-light ;
and as to buying books, I can affirm that in new books I
have not spent five shillings for the last five years, i. e. in
Reviews, Magazines, Pamphlets, &c. &c. ; so that there
would be an end of Mr. Longman, and Mr. Cadell, &c.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 209

&c., if nobody had more power or inclination to buy than
myself. And as to old books, my dealings in that way,
for want of means, have been very trifling. Nevertheless,
small and paltry as my collection is, I have not read a
fifth part of it. I should, however, like to see your army.

" Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp,
When Agrican, with all his northern powers,
Besieged Albracca, as romances tell."

Not that I accuse you of romancing ; I verily believe that
you have all the books you speak of. Dear Wrangham,
are you and I ever like to meet in this world again ?
Yours is a corner of the earth ; mine is not so. I never
heard of anybody going to Bridlington ; but all the world
comes to the Lakes. Farewell. Excuse this wretched
scrawl : it is like all that proceeds from my miserable
pen.

4 Ever faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

1 Dear Wrangham,

4 You are very good in sending one letter after another
to inquire after a person so undeserving of attentions of
this kind as myself. Dr. Johnson, I think, observes, or
rather is made to observe by some of his biographers, that
no man delights to give what he is accustomed to sell.
41 For example : you, Mr. Thrale, would rather part with
anything in this way than your porter." Now, though I
have never been much of a salesman in matters of litera-
ture (the whole of my returns — I do not say net profits,
but returns — from the writing trade not amounting to
seven score pounds), yet, somehow or other, I manu-

VOL II. 14

210 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

facture a letter, and part with it, as reluctantly as if it
were really a thing of price. But, to drop the compar-
ison, I have so much to do with writing, in the way of
labour and profession, that it is difficult to me to conceive
how anybody can take up a pen but from constraint. My
writing-desk is to me a place of punishment ; and, as my
penmanship sufficiently testifies, I always bend over it
with some degree of impatience. All this is said that you
may know the real cause of my silence, and not ascribe
it in any degree to slight or forgetfulness on my part, or
an insensibility to your worth and the value of your

friendship As to my occupations, they look

little at the present age ; but I live in hope of leaving
something behind me that by some minds will be valued.

1 1 see no new books except by the merest accident.
Of course your poem, which I should have been pleased to
read, has not found its way to me. You inquire about old
books : you might almost as well have asked for my teeth
as for any of mine. The only modern books that I read
are those of Travels, or such as relate to matters of fact ;
and the only modern books that I care for ; but as to old
ones, I am like yourself — scarcely anything comes amiss
to me. The little time I have to spare — the very little, I
may say — all goes that way. If, however, in the line of
your profession you want any bulky old Commentaries on
the Scriptures (such as not twelve strong men of these
degenerate days will venture — I do not say to read, but to
lift), I can, perhaps, as a special favour, accommodate
you.

' I and mine will be happy to see you and yours here or
anywhere ; but I am sorry the time you talk of is so dis-
tant : a year and a half is a long time looking forwards,
though, looking back, ten times as much is brief as a

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 211

dream. My writing is wholly illegible — at least I fear
so ; I had better, therefore, release you.

4 Believe me, my dear Wrangham,

1 Your affectionate friend,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The following letter from Dr. Satterthwaite, rector of
Lowther, to his friend Dr. Wordsworth, Master of Trinity
College, Cambridge, describes a serious and alarming
accident which befel the Poet in the spring of 1822.

'Lowther, May 21, 1822.
' My dear Wordsworth,

'To prevent, if possible, any exaggerated account
reaching you of an accident which happened to your
brother William on Monday afternoon, I have been desired
by him and Mrs. Wordsworth to state to you the real state
of the case. On that day, about noon, when in company
with Messrs. Monkhouse and George, on their road to
Haweswater, he was thrown from his horse, and received,
apparently, a very severe injury on his head. He was
brought, as soon as possible, to my house ; and Dr. Har-
rison, upon examination of the wound, pronounced the
skull to be fractured. We have now every reason to hope
that the roughness of bone perceptible to,the touch at the
bottom of the wound has been only abrasion by the sharp-
pointed stone against which he was thrown. The wound
was full two inches long, and to us appeared very deep
and frightful. Most happy am I to tell you that no
unpleasant consequences whatsoever have followed. He
has had no fever, headache, or stupor — not one unpleasant
sensation of any kind ; has passed two very comfortable
nights, and rested well ; and we now entertain the most
confident hope that a very short time will restore this

212 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

invaluable man to us in the full possession of his former
health and powers of usefulness. We lost no time in
sending for Mrs. W., who, with her daughter, arrived next
morning before day-break. You may, I assure you, rest
satisfied that he is going on in a way to meet the most
anxious wishes of his most timorous friends ; and, with the
advantages of the quiet lodging and excellent nursing he
enjoys, no reasonable apprehension can be entertained
about the result. The wound is nearly healed. We con-
tinue to send your sister daily information of our progress ;
and now that the first shock is got over, we are all gradu-
ally returning to a state of tranquillity.

4 It is singular enough that on Monday morning I had
determined to write to you to offer myself as an inmate at
Trinity Lodge for a couple of nights, on the 28th and
29th, intending to preach at St. Mary's on the latter day.
This accident, overwhelming as it at first appeared, led
me to write to Dr. French to beg he would procure me a
deputy ; for you may be quite sure I would not think of
leaving such a friend and such a man in my own house till
I could leave him without a particle of apprehension.

'They all, your brother, sister, and niece, with Monk-
house and George, join in kindest remembrances to you ;
and

4 Believe me very affectionately yours,

4 JAS. SATTERTHWAITE.'

The rapidity of Mr. Wordsworth's convalescence sur-
prised his friends ; it was owing, humanly speaking, to his
very temperate habits. To the same cause it may be
ascribed, that during his long life he was scarcely ever
confined to the house by so much as a day's illness.

The next letter, containing some judicious advice, is

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 213

addressed to Mr. Edward Moxon, afterwards the respected
publisher of Mr. Words worth's works.

(Postmark) 'Dec. 8, 1826.
4 Dear Sir,

4 It is some time since I received your little volume, for
which I now return you my thanks, and also for the oblig-
ing letter that accompanied it.

4 Your poem I have read with no inconsiderable pleasure ;
it is full of natural sentiments and pleasing pictures : among
the minor pieces, the last pleased me much the best, and
especially the latter part of it. This little volume, with
what I saw of yourself during a short interview, interests
me in your welfare ; and the more so, as I always feel
some apprehension for the destiny of those who in youth
addict themselves to the composition of verse. It is a
very seducing employment, and, though begun in disin-
terested love of the Muses, is too apt to connect itself with
self-love, and the disquieting passions which follow in the
train of that our natural infirmity. Fix your eye upon
acquiring independence by honourable business, and let
the Muses come after rather than go before. Such lines
as the latter of this couplet,

" Where lovely woman, chaste as heaven above,
Shines in the golden virtues of her love,"

and many other passages in your poem, give proof of no
common-place sensibility. I am therefore the more
earnest that you should guard yourself against this temp-
tation.

4 Excuse this freedom ; and believe me, my dear Sir,
very faithfully,

4 Your obliged servant,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

214 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

The next is to Professor W. R. Hamilton (now Sir
William R. Hamilton), on the receipt of some poems of
his own and his sister's composition.

To W. R. Hamilton, Esq., Observatory, near Dublin.

lRydal Mount, near Kendal, Sept. 24, J827.
' My dear Sir,

'You will have no pain to suffer from my sincerity.
With a safe conscience I can assure you that in my judg-
ment your verses are animated with true poetic spirit, as
they are evidently the product of strong feeling. The
sixth and seventh stanzas affected me much, even to the
dimming of my eye and faltering of my voice while I was
reading them aloud.

4 The logical faculty has infinitely more to do with
poetry than the young and the inexperienced, whether
writer or critic, ever dreams of. Indeed, as the materials
upon which that faculty is exercised in poetry are so
subtle, so plastic, so complex, the application of it requires
an adroitness which can proceed from nothing but prac-
tice, a discernment which emotion is so far from bestowing
that at first it is ever in the way of it. Here I must stop :
only let me advert to two lines :

" But shall despondence therefore blench my brorv,
Or pining sorrow sickly ardor o'er."

These are two of the worst lines in mere expression.
" Blench " is perhaps miswritten for " blanch ; " if not,
I don't understand the word. Blench signifies to flinch.
If " blanch " be the word, the next ought to be " hair."
You can't here use brow for the hair upon it, because a

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 215

white brow or forehead is a beautiful characteristic of
youth. " Sickly ardor o'er " was at first reading to me
unintelligible. I took " sickly " to be an adjective joined
with " ardor," whereas you mean it as a portion of a
verb, from Shakspeare, " Sicklied o'er with the pale
cast of thought." But the separation of the parts or
decomposition of the word, as here done, is not to be
endured.

4 Let me now come to your sister's verses, for which I
thank you. They are surprisingly vigorous for a female
pen, but occasionally too rugged, and especially for such
a subject ; they have also the same faults in expression as
your own, but not, I think, in quite an equal degree.
Much is to be hoped from feelings so strong, and from a
mind thus disposed. I should have entered into particu-
lars with these also, had I seen you after they came into
my hands. Your sister is, no doubt, aware that in her
poem she has trodden the same ground as Gray, in his
" Ode upon a distant Prospect of Eton College." What
he has been contented to treat in the abstract, she has rep-
resented in particular, and with admirable spirit. But
again, my dear Sir, let me exhort you (and do you ex-
hort your sister) to deal little with modern writers, but fix
your attention almost exclusively upon those who have
stood the test of time.

<W. W.'

The next is to the Rev. Alexander Dyce, the learned
editor of the works of Collins, &c.,- and of Ancient
English Dramatists, and of various other standard writ-
ings, both in verse and prose. 4 Without flattery,' writes
Mr. Wordsworth to him, 1 1 may say that your editorial
diligence and judgment entitle you to the highest praise.'

216 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

'Rydal Mount, Kendal, Jan. 12, 1829.
6 Dear Sir,

4 1 regret to hear of the indisposition from which you
have been suffering.

4 That you are convinced l gives me great pleasure, as
I hope that every other editor of Collins will follow your
example. You are at perfect liberty to declare that you
have rejected Bell's copy in consequence of my opinion
of it ; and I feel much satisfaction in being the instrument
of rescuing the memory of Collins from this disgrace.
I have always felt some concern that Mr. Home, who
lived several years after Bell's publication, did not testify-
more regard for his deceased friend's memory by protesting
against this imposition. Mr. Mackenzie is still living ;
and I shall shortly have his opinion upon the question ;
and if it be at all interesting, I shall take the liberty of
sending it to you.

4 Dyer is another of our minor poets — minor as to
quantity — of whom one would wish to know more.
Particulars about him might still be collected, I should
think, in South Wales, his native country, and where in
early life he practised as a painter. I have often heard
Sir George Beaumont express a curiosity about his pic-
tures, and a wish to see any specimen of his pencil that
might survive. If you are a rambler, perhaps you may,
at some time or other, be led into Carmarthenshire, and
might bear in mind what I have just said of this excellent
author.

4 1 had once a hope to have learned some unknown par-

1 i. e. convinced by what Mr. Wordsworth had remarked to me,
that those portions of Collins's ' Ode on the Superstitions of the
Highlanders,' which first appeared in Bell's edition of that Ode,
were forgeries. — A. D. *

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 217

ticulars of Thomson, about Jedburgh, but I was disap-
pointed. Had I succeeded, I meant to publish a short life
of him, prefixed to a volume containing "The Seasons,"
" The Castle of Indolence," his minor pieces in rhyme,
and a few extracts from his plays, and his u Liberty ; "
and I feel still inclined to do something of the kind.
These three writers, Thomson, Collins, and Dyer, had
more poetic imagination than any of their contemporaries,
unless we reckon Chatterton as of that age. I do not
name Pope, for he stands alone, as a man most highly
gifted ; but unluckily he took the plain when the heights
were within his reach.

* Excuse this long letter, and believe me
4 Sincerely yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The following is to Professor Hamilton.

To Professor Hamilton, Observatory, Dublin.

'Rydal Mount, July 24, 1829.
* My dear Sir,

4 It is time to thank you for the verses you so obligingly
sent to me.

' Your sister's have abundance of spirit and feeling ; all
that they want is what appears in itself of little moment,
and yet is of incalculably great, — that is, workmanship,
— the art by which the thoughts are made to melt into
each other, and to fall into light and shadow, regulated by
distinct preconception of the best general effect they are
capable of producing. This may seem very vague to
you, but by conversation I think I could make it appear
otherwise. It is enough for the present to say that I was
much gratified, and beg you would thank your sister for

218 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

favouring me with the sight of compositions so distinctly
marked with that quality which is the subject of them.1
Your own verses are to me very interesting, and affect me
much as evidences of high and pure-mindedness, from
which humble-mindedness is inseparable. I like to see
and think of you among the stars, and between death and
immortality, where three of these poems place you. The
" Dream of Chivalry " is also interesting in another way ;
but it would be insincere not to say that something of a
style more terse, and a harmony more accurately balanced,
must be acquired before the bodily form of your verses
will be quite worthy of their living souls. You are prob-
ably aware of this, though perhaps not in an equal degree
with myself; nor is it desirable you should, for it might
tempt you to labour, which would divert you from subjects
of infinitely greater importance.

' Many thanks for your interesting account of Mr. Edge-
worth. I heartily concur with you in the wish that neither
Plato nor any other profane author may lead him from the
truths of the Gospel, without which our existence is an
insupportable mystery to the thinking mind.

1 Looking for a reply at your early convenience,
4 1 remain, my dear Sir,

' Faithfully, your obliged

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The next is to Mr. George Huntly Gordon, of Her
Majesty's Stationery Office.

To G. Huntly Gordon, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, July 29, 1829.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 hope you have enjoyed yourself in the country, as
1 Genius.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 219

we have been doing among our shady woods, and green
hills, and invigorated streams. The summer is passing
on, and I have not left home, and perhaps shall not ; for it
is far more from duty than inclination that I quit my dear
and beautiful home ; and duty pulls two ways. On the
one side my mind stands in need of being fed by new
objects for meditation and reflection, the more so because
diseased eyes have cut me off so much from reading ; and,
on the other hand, I am obliged to look at the expense of
distant travelling, as I am not able to take so much out of
my body by walking as heretofore.

' I have not got my MS. back from the ,] whose

managers have, between them, used me shamefully ; but
my complaint is principally of the editor, for with the
proprietor I have had little direct connection. If you
think it worth while, you shall, at some future day, see
such parts of the correspondence as I have preserved.
Mr. Southey is pretty much in the same predicament with
them, though he has kept silence for the present. . . .
•I am properly served for having had any connection with
such things. My only excuse is, that they offered me a
very liberal sum, and that I have laboured hard through
a long life, without more pecuniary emolument than a
lawyer gets for two special retainers, or a public per-
former sometimes for tw$ or three songs., Farewell ; pray
let me hear from you at your early convenience,
1 And believe me faithfully your
4 Much obliged

' WM., WORDSWORTH.'

Soon after he thus writes to Mr. Dyce :

1 An Annual, to which Mr. Wordsworth had been induced to
become a contributor.

220 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

'Rydal Mount, Kendal, Oct. 16, 1829.
' My dear Sir,

1 On my return from Ireland, where I have been travel-
ling a few weeks, I found your present of George Peele's
works, and the obliging letter accompanying it ; for both
of which I offer my cordial thanks.

' English literature is greatly indebted to your labours ;
and I have much pleasure in this occasion of testifying
my respect for the sound judgment and conscientious dili-
gence with which you discharge your duty as an editor.
Peele's works were well deserving of the care you have
bestowed upon them ; and, as I did not previously possess
a copy of any part of them, the beautiful book which you
have sent me was very acceptable.

' By accident, I learned lately that you had made a
Book of Extracts, which I had long wished for opportunity
and industry to execute myself. I am happy it has fallen
into so much better hands. I allude to your Selections
from the Poetry of English Ladies. I had only a glance
at your work ; but I will take this opportunity of saying,
that should a second edition be called for, I should be
pleased with the honour of being consulted by you about
it. There is one poetess to whose writings I am es-
pecially partial, the Countess of Winchelsea. I have
perused her poems frequently, and should be happy to
name such passages as I think most characteristic of her
genius, and most fit to be selected.*

4 1 know not what to say about my intended edition of
a portion of Thomson. There appears to be some indel-

* [' POEMS on Several Occasions, Written by the Right Honour-
able ANNE, Countess of Winchelsea. London, 1714.' She was
daughter of Sir Wm. Kingsmill, and wife of Heneage, fourth
Earl of Winchelsea: she died in 1720. — n. n.]

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 221

icacy in one poet treating another in that way. The ex-
ample is not good, though I think there are few to whom
the process might be more advantageously applied than to
Thomson. Yet, so sensible am I of the objection, that I
should not have entertained the thought, but for the expec-
tation held out to me by an acquaintance, that valuable
materials for a new Life of Thomson might be procured.
In this I was disappointed.

4 With much respect, I remain, dear Sir,
1 Sincerely yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To this the following may serve as a Postscript :

<Rydal Mount, Kendal, May 10, 1830.
4 My dear Sir,

4 My last was, for want of room, concluded so abruptly,
that I avail myself of an opportunity of sending you a
few additional words free of postage, upon the same sub-
ject.

4 1 observed that Lady Winchelsea was unfortunate in
her models — Pindarics and Fables ; nor does it appear
from her 44 Aristomenes " that she would have been more
successful than her contemporaries, if sne had cultivated
tragedy. She had sensibility sufficient for the tender
parts of dramatic writing, but in the stormy and tumul-
tuous she would probably have failed altogether. She
seems to have made it a moral and religious duty to con-
trol her feelings lest they should mislead her. Of love,
as a passion, she is afraid, no doubt from a conscious in-
ability to soften it down into friendship. I have often ap-
plied two lines of her drama (p. 318,) to her affections :

222 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

" Love's soft bands,

His gentle cords of hyacinths and roses,
"Wove in the dewy spring when storms are silent."

By the by, in the next page are two impassioned lines
spoken to a person fainting :

" Thus let me hug and press thee into life,
And lend thee motion from my beating heart."

From the style and versification of this, so much her
longest work, I conjecture that Lady Winchelsea had but
a slender acquaintance with the drama of the earlier part
of the preceding century. Yet her style in rhyme is often
admirable, chaste, tender, and vigorous, and entirely free
from sparkle, antithesis, and that overculture, which re-
minds one, by its broad glare, its stiffness, and heaviness,
of the double daisies of the garden, compared with their
modest and sensitive kindred of the fields. Perhaps I am
mistaken, but I think there is a good deal of resemblance
in her style and versification to that of Tickell, to whom
Dr. Johnson justly assigns a high place among the minor
poets, and of whom Goldsmith rightly observes, that there
is a strain of ballad thinking through all his poetry, and it
is very attractive. Pope, in that production of his boy-
hood, the " Ode to Solitude," and in his " Essay on
Criticism," has furnished proofs that at one period of his
life he felt the charm of a sober and subdued style, which
he afterwards abandoned for one that is, to my taste at
least, too pointed and ambitious, and for a versification too
timidly balanced.

' If a second edition of your " Specimens " should be
called for, you might add from Helen Maria Williams the
" Sonnet to the Moon," and that to " Twilight ;" and a few
more from Charlotte Smith, particularly,

" I love thee, mournful, sober-suited Night."

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 223

At the close of a sonnet of Miss Seward are two fine
verses :

" Come, that I may not hear the winds of night,
Nor count the heavy eve-drops as they fall."

' You have well characterized the poetic powers of this
lady ; but, after all, her verses please me, with all their
faults, better than those of Mrs. Barbauld, who, with much
higher powers of mind, was spoiled as a poetess by being
a dissenter, and concerned with a dissenting academy.
One of the most pleasing passages in her poetry is the
close of the lines upon " Life," written, I believe, when
she was not less than eighty years of age :

" Life, we have been long together," &C.1

You have given a specimen of that ever-to-be-pitied
victim of Swift, " Vanessa." I have somewhere a short
piece of hers upon her passion for Swift, which well
deserves to be added. But I am becoming tedious, which
you will ascribe to a well-meant endeavour to make you
some return for your obliging attentions.

4 1 remain, dear Sir, faithfully yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

1 It was on hearing these lines repeated by^his friend, Mr. H.
C. Robinson, that Mr. Wordsworth exclaimed, ' Well ! I am not
given to envy other people their good things ; but I do wish I had
written that.' * He much admired Mrs. Barbauld's Essays, and
sent a copy of them, with a laudatory letter upon them, to the late
Archbishop of Canterbury.

* [These lines of Mrs. Barbauld's, so much approved by Words-
worth, were composed at an age which he also lived to attain,
and his praise shows that his own feelings were in sympathy with
what they express. On this account I have added them, for the
reader's convenience, at the end of this chapter. — H. R.]

224 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

To Charles Lamb, Esq.

'Jan. 10,1830.
4 My dear Lamb,

4 A whole twelvemonth have I been a letter in your
debt, for which fault I have been sufficiently punished by
self-reproach.

4 I liked your play marvellously, having no objection to
to it but one, which strikes me as applicable to a large
majority of plays, those of Shakspeare himself not en-
tirely excepted — I mean a little degradation of character
for a more dramatic turn of plot. Your present of Hone's
book was very acceptable ; and so much so, that your
part of the book is the cause why I did not write long
ago. I wish to enter a little minutely into notice of the
dramatic extracts,* and, on account of the smallness of
the print, deferred doing so till longer days would allow
me to read without candle-light, which I have long since
given up. But, alas ! when the days lengthened, my
eyesight departed, and for many months I could not read
three minutes at a time. You will be sorry to hear that
this infirmity still hangs about me, and almost cuts me off
from reading altogether. But how are you, and how is
your dear sister ? I long much, as we all do, to know.

4 For ourselves, this last year, owing to my sister's dan-
gerous illness, the effects of which are not yet got over,
has been an anxious one and melancholy. But no more
of this. My sister has probably told everything about the

* [The dramatic extracts here spoken of are those which Charles
Lamb made from the collection bequeathed by Garrick to the Brit-
ish Museum. The extracts appeared first as contributions to
Hone's ' Table Book,' and are now included in the ' Specimens
of English Dramatic Poets by Charles Lamb.' Edit, of 1835. —

H.B.]

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 225

family ; so that I may conclude with less scruple, by
assuring you of my sincere and faithful affection for you
and your dear sister.

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

In the spring of 1830, he thus expresses himself to
Mr. Gordon :

To G. Huntly Gordon, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, April 6, 1830.
c My dear Mr. Gordon,

* You are kind in noticing with thanks my rambling
notes.1

' We have had here a few days of delicious summer
weather. It appeared with the suddenness of a panto-
mimic trick, stayed longer than we had a right to expect,
and was as rapidly succeeded by high wind, bitter cold,
and winter snow, over hill and dale.

4 1 am not surprised that you are so well pleased with
Mr. Quillinan. The more you see of him the better you
will like him. You ask what are my employments. Ac-
cording to Dr. Johnson they are such as entitle me to high
commendation, for I am not only making two blades of
grass grow where only one grew before, but a dozen. In
plain language, I am draining a bit of spongy ground.2
In the field where this goes on I am making a green ter-
race that commands a beautiful view of our two lakes,
Rydal and Windermere, and more than two miles of in-
tervening vale with the stream visible by glimpses flowing
through it. I shall have great pleasure in showing you

V

1 On a proposed tour.

3 In the field to the S. W. below the garden at Rydal.

VOL. II. 15

226 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

this among the other returns which I hope one day to
make for your kindness.

4 Adieu, yours,

4W. W.'

The following to Mr. Dyce was written in 1830.

[No date, but Postmark, 1830.]

4 1 am truly obliged, my dear Sir, by your valuable
present of Webster's Dramatic Works and the " Speci-
mens." l Your publisher was right in insisting upon the
whole of Webster, otherwise the book might have been
superseded, either by an entire edition separately given to
the world, or in some corpus of the dramatic writers.
The poetic genius of England, with the exception of
Chaucer, Spenser, Milton, Dryden, Pope, and a very few
more, is to be sought in her drama. How it grieves one
that there is so little probability of those valuable authors
being read except by the curious ! I questioned my
friend Charles Lamb, whether it would answer for some
person of real taste to undertake abridging the plays that
are not likely to be read as wholes, and telling such parts
of the story in brief abstract as were ill managed in the
drama. He thought it would not. I, however, am inclined
to think it would.

' The account of your indisposition gives me much
concern. It pleases me, however, to see that, though you
may suffer, your industry does not relax : and I hope that
your pursuits are rather friendly than injurious to your
health.

4 You are quite correct in your notice of my obligation
to Dr. Darwin.2 In the first edition of the poem it was

1 Specimens of British Poetesses. — A. D.
« In Mr. W.'s lines < To Enterprise.' — A. D.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 227

acknowledged in a note, which slipped out of its place in
the last, along with some others. In putting together that
edition, I was obliged to cut up several copies ; and, as
several of the poems also changed their places, some con-
fusion and omission, and, in one instance, a repetition,
was the consequence. Nothing, however, so bad as in
the edition of 1820, where a long poem, " The Lament
of Mary Queen of Scots," was by mistake altogether
omitted. Another unpleasantness arose from the same
cause ; for, in some instances, notwithstanding repeated
charges to the printer, you have only two Spenserian
stanzas in a page (I speak now of the last edition) instead
of three ; and there is the same irregularity in printing
other forms of stanza.

4 You must indeed have been fond of that ponderous
quarto, " The Excursion," to lug it about as you did.1
In the edition of 1827 it was diligently revised, and the
sense in several instances got into less room : yet still it is
a long poem for these feeble and fastidious times. You
would honour me much by accepting a copy of my poet-
ical works ; but I think it better to defer offering it to you
till a new edition is called for, which will be ere long, as I
understand the present is getting low.

4 A word or two about Collins. You know what im-
portance I attach to following strictly the last copy of the
text of an author ; and I do not blame you for printing in
the " Ode to Evening " " brawling" spring ; but surely
the epithet is most unsuitable to the time, the very worst,
1 think, that could have been chosen.

4 I now come to Lady Winchelsea. First, however, let

1 I had mentioned to Mr. W. that, when I had a curacy in Corn'
wall, I used frequently to carry ' The Excursion ' down to the
sea-shore, and read it there. — A. D.

228 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

me say a few words upon one or two other authoresses of
your " Specimens." British Poetesses make but a poor
figure in the " Poems by Eminent Ladies."1 But observ-
ing how injudicious that selection is in the case of Lady
^Winchelsea, and of Mrs. Aphra Behn (from whose at-
tempts they are miserably copious), I have thought some-
thing better might have been chosen by more competent
persons who had access to the volumes of the several
writers. In selecting from Mrs. Pilkington, I regret that
you omitted (look at p. 255), " Sorrow," or at least that
you did not abridge it. The first and third paragraph are
very affecting. See also "Expostulation," p. 258 : it
reminds me strongly of one of the Penitential Hymns of
Burns. The few lines upon St. John the Baptist, by Mrs.
Killigrew (vol. ii. p. 6), are pleasing. A beautiful Elegy
of Miss Warton (sister to the poets of that name) upon
the death of her father, has escaped your notice ; nor can
I refer you to it. Has the Duchess of Newcastle written
much verse ? her Life of her Lord, and the extracts in
your book, and in the " Eminent Ladies," are all that I
have seen of hers. The " Mirth and Melancholy," has
so many fine strokes of imagination, that I cannot but
think there must be merit in many parts of her writings.
How beautiful those lines, from " I dwell in groves," to
the conclusion, " Yet better loved, the more that I am
known," excepting the four verses after " Walk up the
hills." And surely the latter verse of the couplet,

" The tolling bell which for the dead rings out ;
A mill where rushing waters run about ; "

is very noticeable : no person could have hit upon that
union of images without being possessed of true poetic

1 Two Volumes, 1755. — A. D.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 229

feeling. Could you tell me anything of Lady Mary
Wortley Montagu more than is to be learned from Pope's
letters and her own ? She seems to have been destined
for something much higher and better than she became.
A parallel between her genius and character and that of
Lady Winchelsea her contemporary (though somewhat
prior to her), would be well worth drawing.

4 And now at last for the poems of Lady Winchelsea.'
I will transcribe a note from a blank leaf of my own
edition, written by me before I saw the scanty notice of
her in Walpole. (By the by, that book has always disap-
pointed me when I have consulted it upon any particular
occasion.) The note runs thus: "The Fragment," p.
280, seems to prove that she was attached to James II., as
does p. 42, and that she suffered by the Revolution. The
most celebrated of these poems, but far from the best, is
'The Spleen.' 'The Petition for an absolute Retreat,'
and the ' Nocturnal Reverie,' are of much superior merit.
See also for favourable specimens, p. 156, ' On the Death
of Mr. Thynne,' p. 263 ; and p. 280, ' Fragment.' The
Fable of ' Love, Death, and Reputation,' p. 29, is ingeni-
ously told." Thus far my own note. I will now be more
particular. P. 3, " Our Vanity," &c., and p. 163, are
noticeable as giving some account from herself of her
authorship. See also, p. 148, where she alludes to " The
Spleen." She was unlucky in her models, Pindaric Odes
and French Fables. But see p. 70, " The Blindness of
Elymas," for proof that she could write with powers of a
high order when her own individual character and personal
feelings were not concerned. For less striking proofs of
this power, see p. 4, "All is Vanity," omitting verses
5 and 6, and reading "clouds that are lost and gone," &c.
There is merit in the two next stanzas ; and the last stanza

230 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

towards the close contains a fine reproof for the ostenta-
tion of Louis XIV., and one magnificent verse,

i
" Spent the astonished hours, forgetful to adore."

But my paper is nearly out. As far as "For my gar-
ments," p. 36, the poem is charming; it then falls off;
revives at p. 39, "Give me there:" p. 41, &c., reminds
me of Dyer's " Grongar Hill ;" it revives p. 47, towards
the bottom, and concludes with sentiments worthy of the
writer, though not quite so happily expressed as other parts
of the poem. See pages 82, 92, " Whilst in the Muses'
paths I stray," p. 113. "The Cautious Lovers," p. 118,
has little poetic merit, but is worth reading as character-
istic of the author. P. 143, " Deep lines of honour," &c.,
to " maturer age." P. 151, if shortened, would be strik-
ing ; p. 154, characteristic ; p. 159, from " Meanwhile, ye
living parents," to the close, omitting " Nor could we
hope," and the five following verses ; p. 217, last para-
graph ; p. 259, that you have ;* pages 262, 263 ; p. 280.
Was Lady W. a R. Catholic ? p. 290. " And to the clouds
proclaim thy fall ; " p. 291, omit " When scattered glow-
worms," and the next couplet. I have no more room.
Pray, excuse this vile scrawl.

1 Ever faithfully, yours,

' W. W.

1 P. S. I have inconsiderately sent your letter to my
daughter (now absent), without copying the address. I
knew the letter would interest her. I shall direct to your
publisher.

'Rydal Mount.'

1 Mr. W. means, that I have inserted that poem in my ' Speci-
mens.'— A. D.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 231

The French Revolution of July, 1830, could not but
excite very strong feelings in Mr. Wordsworth's mind.
Among the expressions given to his emotion at that period
are these, in two letters to Mr. Gordon.

To G. Huntly Gordon, Esq.
4JVfy dear Mr. Gordon,

4 1 cannot but deeply regret that the late King of France
and his ministers should have been so infatuated. Their
stupidity, not to say their crimes, has given an impulse to
the revolutionary and democratic spirit throughout Europe
which is premature, and from which much immediate evil
may be apprehended whatever things may settle into at
last. Whereas, had the government conformed to the
increasing knowledge of the people, and not surrendered
itself to the counsels of the priests and the bigoted Roy-
alists, things might have been kept in an even course to
the mutual improvement and benefit of both governed
and governors.

* In France incompatible things are aimed at — a mon-
archy and democracy to be united without an intervening
aristocracy to constitute a graduated scale of power and
influence. I cannot conceive how an hereditary monarchy
can exist without an hereditary peerage in a country so
large as France, nor how either can maintain their ground
if the law of the Napoleon code, compelling equal division
of property by will, be not repealed. And I understand
that a vast majority of the French are, decidedly adverse
to the repeal of that law, which, I cannot but think, will
ere long be found injurious both to France, and, in its
collateral effects, to the rest of Europe.
4 Ever, dear Mr. Gordon,

4 Cordially and faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

232 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830.

1 My dear Mr. Gordon,

' Thanks for your hint about Rhenish : strength from
wine is good, from water still better.

1 One is glad to see tyranny baffled and foolishness put
to shame ; but the French King and his ministers will be
unfairly judged by all those who take not into considera-
tion the difficulties of their position. It is not to be doubted
that there has long existed a determination, and that plans
have been laid, to destroy the government which the
French received, as they felt, at the hands of the Allies,
and their pride could not bear. Moreover, the Constitu-
tion, had it been their own choice, would by this time
have lost favour in the eyes of the French, as not suffi-
ciently democratic for the high notion that people enter-
tain of their fitness to govern themselves ; but, for my
own part, Pd rather fill the office of a parish beadle than
sit on the throne where the Duke of Orleans has suffered
himself to be placed.

4 The heat is gone, and but that we have too much rain
again, the country would be enchanting.
4 With a thousand thanks,

4 1 remain ever yours,

1 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

Mr. Wordsworth was not sanguine with respect to the
prospects of France and her new dynasty. In his lines
on ' Presentiments,' written at this time, he thus speaks :

1 When some great Change gives boundless scope
To an exulting Nation's hope,

Oft, startled and made wise
By your low-breathed interpretings,
The simply-meek foretaste the springs

Of bitter contraries.' l

1 1830, Vol. ii. p. 196.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1819-1830. 233

On the llth October, 1830, Mr. Wordsworth's eldest
son, the Reverend ' John Wordsworth, then Rector of
Moresby, was married to Isabella Christian Curwen,
daughter of Henry Curwen, Esq., of Workington Hall,
Cumberland, and of Curwen's Isle, Windermere.

[Lines by Mrs. Barbauld, referred to in a previous note in this
chapter :

' OCTOGENARY REFLECTIONS.

Say, ye who through this round of eighty years

Have proved its joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, —

Say, what is life, ye veterans, who have trod

Step following step, its flowery, thorny road ?

Enough of good to kindle strong desire,

Enough of ill to damp the rising fire,

Enough of love and fancy, joy and hope,

To fan desire, and give the passions scope,

Enough of disappointment, sorrow, pain,

To seal the wise man's sentence, All is vain,

And quench the wish to live those years again.

Science for man unlocks her various store,

And gives enough to urge the wish for more ;

Systems and suns lie open to his gaze,

Nature invites his love, and God his praise ;

Yet doubt and ignorance with his feelings sport,

And Jacob's ladder is some rounds too short.

Yet still to humble hope enough is give"n

Of light from reason's lamp, and light from heaven,

To teach us what to follow, what to shun,

To bow the head, and say " Thy will be done ! " '

7

iin, — I
.gain, j

' The Works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld, with a Memoir by Lucy
Aikin.' Vol. i. p. 313.

In referring to this poem, manifestly by memory alone, Words-
worth's recollection appears, in citing it, to have taken the form
of the composition of an original line. — H. R.]

CHAPTER XLVII.

YARROW REVISITED, AND OTHER POEMS.

THE volume so entitled was published in the beginning
of 1835.*

The occasion of its name, and of some part of its con-
tents, is described by Mr. Wordsworth ; and the following
notices refer to some other poems, in succession in that
volume : 1

Yarrow Revisited. — 'In the autumn of 1831, my
daughter and I set off from Rydal to visit Sir Walter
Scott, before his departure for Italy. This journey had
been delayed, by an inflammation in my eyes, till we
found that the time appointed for his leaving home would
be too near for him to receive us without considerable

* [This volume was ' affectionately inscribed to Samuel Rogers,
Esq., as a testimony of friendship and an acknowledgment of
intellectual obligations — Eydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1834.' The
title-page bears the following motto,

' Poets dwell on earth

To clothe whate'er the soul admires and loves
With language and with numbers.' — AKENSIDE.

In 1832 there had been published an Edition of the Poetical
Works (including 'The Excursion') in four volumes. The pre-
vious collective edition had been in five volumes. — H. R.]

1 MSS. I. F.

YARROW REVISITED, ETC. 235

inconvenience. Nevertheless, we proceeded, and reached
Abbotsford on Monday. I was then scarcely able to lift
up my eyes to the light. How sadly changed did I find
him from the man 1 had seen so healthy, gay, and hopeful
a few years before, when he said at the inn at Paterdale,
in my presence, his daughter Anne also being there, with
Mr. Lockhart, my own wife and daughter, and Mr. Quil-
linan, " I mean to live till I am eighty" " and shall write
as long as I live." Though we had none of us the least
thought of the cloud of misfortune which was then going
to break upon his head, I was startled, and almost shocked,
at that bold saying, which could scarcely be uttered by
such a man, sanguine as he was, without a momentary
forgetfulness of the instability of human life. But to
return to Abbotsford. The inmates and guests we found
there were Sir Walter, Major Scott, Anne Scott, and Mr.
and Mrs. Lockhart ; Mr. Liddell, his lady and brother,
and Mr. Allan the painter, and Mr. Laidlaw, a very old
friend of Sir Walter's. One of Burns's sons, an officer
in the Indian service, had left the house a day or two
before, and had kindly expressed his regret that he could
not wait my arrival, a regret that I may truly say was
mutual. In the evening, Mr. and Mrs. Liddell sang, and
Mrs. Lockhart chanted old ballads to her harp ; and Mr.
Allan, hanging over the back of a chair", told and acted
odd stories in a humorous way. With this exhibition,
and his daughter's singing, Sir Walter was much amused,
and, indeed, were we all, as far as circumstances would
allow.

' On Tuesday morning, Sir Walter Scott accompanied
us, and most of the party, to Newark Castle, on the
Yarrow. When we alighted from the carriages he walked
pretty stoutly, and had great pleasure in revisiting these
his favourite haunts. Of that excursion, the verses, " Yar-

236 YARROW REVISITED,

row Revisited" are a memorial. Notwithstanding the
romance that pervades Sir Walter's works, and attaches
to many of his habits, there is too much pressure of fact
for these verses to harmonize, as much as I could wish,
with the two preceding poems. On our return in the
afternoon, we had to cross the Tweed, directly opposite
Abbotsford. The wheels of our carriage grated upon the
pebbles in the bed of the stream, that there flows some-
what rapidly. A rich, but sad light, of rather a purple
than a golden hue, was spread over the Eildon Hills at
that moment ; and, thinking it probable that it might be
the last time Sir Walter would cross the stream, I was not
a little moved, and expressed some of my feelings in the
sonnet beginning,

" A trouble, not of clouds," &c. l

At noon on Thursday we left Abbotsford, and on the
morning of that day, Sir Walter and I had a serious con-
versation, tete-d-tete, when he spoke with gratitude of the
happy life which, upon the whole, he had led. He had
written in my daughter's album, before he came into the
breakfast-room that morning, a few stanzas addressed to
her; and while putting the book into her hand, in his own
study, standing by his desk, he said to her in my presence,
" I should not have done anything of this kind, but for
your father's sake ; they are probably the last verses I
shall ever write." They show how much his mind was
impaired ; not by the strain of thought, but by the execu-
tion, some of the lines being imperfect, and one stanza
wanting corresponding rhymes. One letter, the initial S.,
had been omitted in the spelling of his own name. In this
interview, also, it was that, upon my expressing a hope of

1 Vol. iii. p. 222.

AND OTHER POEMS. 237

his health being benefited by the climate of the country to
which he was going, and by the interest he would take in
the classic remembrances of Italy, he made use of the
quotation from " Yarrow Revisited," as recorded by me
in the " Musings at Aquapendente," six years after-
wards.*

4 Mr. Lockhart has mentioned in his life of him, what I
heard from several quarters while abroad, both at Rome
and elsewhere, that little seemed to interest him but what
he could collect or heard of the fugitive Stuarts, and their
adherents who had followed them into exile. Both the
"Yarrow Revisited" and the "Sonnet" were sent him
before his departure from England. Some further partic-
ulars of the conversations which occurred during this visit
I should have set down, had they not been already accu-
rately recorded by Mr. Lockhart.t

* [ ' Still, in more than ear-deep seats,

Survives for me, and cannot but survive,
The tone of voice which wedded borrowed words
To sadness not their own, when, with faint smile
Forced by intent to take from speech its edge,
He said, " When I am there, although 'tis fair,
'T will be another Yarrow." '

It is in the same poem that Wordsworth gives to Scott that grand
title — . ' The whole world's Darling.' — H. R.] ,

f [Mr. Lockhart speaks of this intercourse as the meeting of
' these two great poets, who had through life loved each other well,
and, in spite of very different theories as to art, appreciated each
other's genius more justly than inferior spirits ever did either of
them.' — Mr. Lockhart's description of one of these evenings at
Abbotsford has so much interest, that, although the extract is
from a work well known as the ' Life of Scott,' it will, I hope, be
acceptable to the reader here.

' Sitting that evening in the library, Sir Walter said a good
deal about the singularity that Fielding and Smollett had both
been driven abroad by declining health, and never returned —

238 YARROW REVISITED,

' I first became acquainted with this great and amiable
man, Sir Walter Scott, in the year 1803, when my sister
and I, making a tour in Scotland, were hospitably received
by him in Lass wade, upon the banks of the Esk, where he
was then living. We saw a good deal of him in the course
of the following week. The particulars are given in my
sister's journal of that tour.' l

A Place of Burial.** — 'Similar places for burial are
not unfrequent in Scotland. The one that suggested this
sonnet lies on the banks of a small stream, called the
Wanchope, that flows into the Esk near Langholme.
Mickle, who, as it appears from his poem on Sir Martin,
was not without genuine poetic feelings, passed his boy-

which circumstance, though his language was rather cheerful at
this time, he had ofjen before alluded to in a darker fashion j and
Mr. Wordsworth expressed his regret that neither of those great
masters of romance appeared to have been surrounded with any
due marks of respect in the close of life. I happened to observe
that Cervantes, on his last journey to Madrid, met with an inci-
dent which seemed to have given him no common satisfaction.
Sir Walter did not remember the passage, and desired me to find
it out in the life by Pellicer, which was at hand, and translate it.
I did so, and he listened with lively though pensive interest. Our
friend Allan, the historical painter, had also come out that day
from Edinburgh, and he lately told me that he remembers nothing
he ever saw with so much sad pleasure as the attitudes and aspect
of Scott and Wordsworth, as the story went on. Mr. Wordsworth
was at that time, I should notice — though indeed his noble stan-
zas tell it — in but a feeble state of general health. He was,
moreover, suffering so much from some malady in his eyes, that
he wore a deep green shade over them. Thus he sat between
Sir Walter and his daughter: absit omen — but it was no wonder
that Allan thought as much of Milton as of Cervantes.' — ' Life
of Scott,' Chap. LXXX. Vol. x. p. 104. — H. R.]

1 See Vol. I. pp. 250-257. 2 Poems, Vol. iii. p. 223.

AND OTHER POEMS. 239

hood in this neighbourhood, under his father, who was a
minister of the Scotch Kirk. The Esk, both above and
below Langholme, flows through a beautiful country ; and
the two streams of the Wanchope and the Ewes, which
join it near that place, are such as a pastoral poet would
delight in.'

On the Sight of a Manse on the South of Scotland. 1 —
4 The manses in Scotland, and the gardens and grounds
about them, have seldom that attractive appearance which
is common about our English parsonages, even when the
clergyman's income falls below the average of the Scotch
minister's. This is not merely owing to the one country-
being poor in comparison with the other, but arises rather
out of the equality of their benefices, so that no one has
enough to spare for decorations that might serve as an
example for others, whereas with us the taste of the
richer incumbent extends its influence more or less to the
poorest.

4 After all, in these observations, the surface only of the
matter is touched. I once heard a conversation, in which
the Roman Catholic religion was decried on account of its
abuses : " You cannot deny, however," said a lady of the
party, repeating an expression used by Charles II., " that
it is the religion of a gentleman." It may be left to the
Scotch themselves to determine how far this observation
applies to the religion2 of their kirk ; while it cannot be

1 Vol. iii. p. 223.

2 The following remarks on the Scotch establishment were pub-
lished by Mr. Wordsworth (Vol. v. p. 272) : ( It "must be obvious
that the scope of the argument is to discourage an attempt which
would introduce into the Church of England an equality of in-
come, and station, upon the model of that of Scotland. The
sounder part of the Scottish nation know what good their ances-
tors derived from their church, and feel how deeply the living

240 YARROW REVISITED,

denied that, if it is wanting in that characteristic quality,
the aspect of common life, so far as concerns its beauty,
must suffer. Sincere Christian piety may be thought not
to stand in need of refinement or studied ornament, but
assuredly it is ever ready to adopt them, when they fall
within its notice, as means allow : and this observation
applies not only to manners, but to everything that a
Christian (truly so in spirit) cultivates and gathers round
him, however humble his social condition.'

Roslin Chapel in a Storm.1 — 'We were detained, by
incessant rain and storm, at the small inn near Roslin
Chapel, and I passed a great part of the day pacing to and
fro in this beautiful structure, which, though not used for
public service, is not allowed to go to ruin. Here this
sonnet was composed, and I shall be fully satisfied if it
has at all done justice to the feeling which the place and
the storm raging without inspired. I was as a prisoner :
a painter delineating the interior of the chapel and its
minute features, under such circumstances, would no
doubt have found his time agreeably shortened. But
the movements of the mind must be more free while
dealing with words than with lines and colours. Such,

generation is indebted to it. They respect and love it, as accom-
modated in so great a measure to a comparatively poor country,
through the far greater portion of which prevails a uniformity
of employment ; but the acknowledged deficiency of theological
learning among the clergy of that church is easily accounted for
by this very equality. What else may be wanting there, it would
be unpleasant to inquire, and might prove invidious to determine :
one thing, however, is clear j that in all countries the temporali-
ties of the Church Establishment should bear an analogy to the
state of society, otherwise it cannot diffuse its influence through
the whole community.7
1 Vol. iii. p. 224.

AND OTHER POEMS. 241

at least, was then, and has been on many other occasions,
my belief; and as it is allotted to few to follow both arts
with success, I am grateful to my own calling for this and
a thousand other recommendations which are denied to
that of the painter.'

The Trosachs.1 — 4As recorded in my sister's journal,
I had first seen the Trosachs in her and Coleridge's com-
pany. The sentiment that runs through this sonnet was
natural to the season in which I again saw this beautiful
spot ; but this, and some other sonnets that follow, were
coloured by the remembrance of my recent visit to Sir
Walter Scott, and the melancholy errand on which he was
going.'

Loch Etive* * That make the patriot spirit.' — ' It was
mortifying to have frequent occasions to observe the bitter
hatred of the lower orders of the Highlanders to their
superiors ; love of country seemed to have passed into
its opposite. Emigration the only relief looked to with
hope.'

Eagles.3 — ' " The last I saw was on the wing," off the
promontory of Fairhead, county of Antrim. I mention this,
because, though my tour in Ireland, with Mr. Marshall and
his son, was made many years ago, this allusion to the
eagle is the only image supplied by it to the poetry I have
since written. We travelled through the country in Octo-
ber ; and to the shortness of the days, and the speed with
which we travelled (in a carriage-and-four), may be
ascribed this want of notices, in my verse, of a country
so interesting. The deficiency I am somewhat ashamed
of, and it is the more remarkable, as contrasted with my
Scotch and continental tours, of which so many memo-
rials are to be found in these volumes.'

1 Vol. iii. p. 224. * Vol. iii. p. 225. 3 Vol. iii. p. 226.

VOL. II. 16

242 YABROW REVISITED,

Sound of Mull.1 — 'Touring late in the season in Scot-
land is an uncertain speculation. We were detained a
week by rain at Bunaw, on Loch Etive, in a vain hope
that the weather would clear up, and allow me to show
my daughter the beauties of Glencoe. Two days we were
at the Isle of Mull, on a visit to Major Campbell ; but it
rained incessantly, and we were obliged to give up our
intention of going to Staffa. The rain pursued us to
Tyndrum, where the next sonnet was composed in a
storm.'2

The Avon? ' Yet is it one that other rivulets bear.' —
4 There is the Shakspeare Avon, the Bristol Avon, the one
that flows by Salisbury, and a small river in Wales, I be-
lieve, bear the name ; Avon being, in the ancient tongue,
the general name for river.'

Inglewood Forest* — ' The extensive forest of Ingle-
wood has been enclosed within my memory. I was well
acquainted with it in its ancient state. The hartshorn
tree, mentioned in the next sonnet, was one of its remark-
able objects, as well as another tree that grew upon an
eminence not far from Penrith. It was single and con-
spicuous, and, being of a round shape, though it was
universally known to be a " sycamore," it was always
called the " round thorn," so difficult is it to chain fancy
down to fact.'

Fancy and Tradition.5 — ' Suggested by the recol-
lection of Juliana's bower and other traditions connected
with this ancient forest.'

Highland Broach? — c On ascending a hill that leads
from Loch Awe towards Inverary, I fell into conversation
with a woman of the humbler class, who wore one of

1 Vol. iii. p. 226. 2 Vol. iii. p. 227. , 3 Vol. iii. p. 234.
4 Vol. iii. p. 235. 6 Vol. iii. p. 236. 6 Vol. iii. p. 229.

AND OTHER POEMS. 243

these Highland broaches. I talked with her about it, and
upon parting with her, when I said, with a kindness I
truly felt, " May the broach continue in your family for
many generations to come, as you have already possessed
it," she thanked me most becomingly, and seemed not a
little moved.'

The following letters refer in part to ' Yarrow Revis-
ited.' l

To Professor Hamilton.

'Rydal Mount, Oct. 27, [1831.]
' My dear Mr. Hamilton,

4 As Dora has told your sister, Sir W. was our guide to
Yarrow. The pleasure of that day induced me to add a
third to the two poems upon Yarrow, " Yarrow Revisited."
It is in the same measure, and as much in the same spirit

1 The following Sonnet belongs to this period :

ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD,
FOR NAPLES.

1 A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,
Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light
Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height :
Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain
For kindred Power, departing from fheir sight.

' Be true,

Ye winds of ocean, and the midland sea,
Wafting your Charge to soft Parthenope ! ' *

* Vol. iii. p. 222., by which the reader will be reminded of
Horace's

' Navis, quae tibi creditum

Debes Virgilium,' &c.
See above, p. 236.

244 YARROW REVISITED,

as matter of fact would allow. You are artist enough to
know that it is next to impossible entirely to harmonize
things that rest upon their poetic credibility, and are ideal-
ized by distance of time and space, with those that rest
upon the evidence of the hour, and have about them the
thorny points of actual life.'

To Lady Frederick Bentinck.

'Rydal Mount, Nov. 9.
1 My dear Lady Frederick,

'You are quite right, dear Lady F., in congratulating
me on my late ramble in Scotland. I set off with a severe
inflammation in one of my eyes, which was removed by
being so much in the open air ; and for more than a month
I scarcely saw a newspaper, or heard of their contents.
During this time we almost forgot, my daughter and I, the
deplorable state of the country. My spirits rallied, and,
with exercise — for I often walked scarcely less than
twenty miles a day — and the employment of composing
verses, amid scenery the most beautiful, and at a season
when the foliage was most rich and varied, the time flew
away delightfully ; and when we came back into the
world again, it seemed as if I had waked from a dream,
that never was to return. We travelled in an open car-
riage with one horse, driven by Dora ; and while we were
in the Highlands I walked most of the way by the side of
the carriage, which left us leisure to observe the beautiful
appearances. The rainbows and coloured mists floating
about the hills were more like enchantment than anything
I ever saw, even among the Alps. There was in particu-
lar, the day we made the tour of Loch Lomond in the
steam-boat, a fragment of a rainbow, so broad, so splendid,

AND OTHER POEMS. 245

so glorious, with its reflection in the calm water, it aston-
ished every one on board, a party of foreigners especially,
who could not refrain from expressing their pleasure in a
more lively manner than we are accustomed to do. My
object in going to Scotland so late in the season was to see
Sir Walter Scott before his departure. We stayed with
him three days, and he quitted Abbotsford the day after
we left it. His health has undoubtedly been much shat-
tered, by successive shocks of apoplexy, but his friends
say he is so much recovered, that they entertain good
hopes of his life and faculties being spared. Mr. Lock-
hart tells me that he derived benefit by a change of his
treatment made by his London physicians, and that he
embarked in good spirits.

1 As to public affairs, I have no hope but in the good-
ness of Almighty God. The Lords have recovered much
of the credit they had lost by their conduct in the Roman
Catholic question. As an Englishman I am deeply grate-
ful for the stand which they have made, but I cannot help
fearing that they may be seduced or intimidated. Our
misfortune is, that the disapprovers of this monstrous bill
give way to a belief that nothing can prevent its being
passed ; and therefore they submit.

4 As to the cholera, I cannot say it appals me much ; it
may be in the order of Providence to employ this scourge
for bringing the nation to its senses ; though history tells
us in the case of the plague at Athens, and other like
visitations, that men are never so wicked and depraved as
when afflictions of that kind are upon 'them. So that,
after all, one must come round to our only support, sub-
mission to the will of God, and faith in the ultimate good-
ness of His dispensations.

4 1 am sorry you did not mention your son, in whose
health and welfare, and progress in his studies, I am

246 YARROW REVISITED, ETC.

always much interested. Pray remember me kindly to
Lady Caroline. All here join with me in presenting their
kindest remembrances to yourself; and believe me, dear
Lady Frederick,

4 Faithfully and affectionately yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Mrs. Hemans.

'Rydal Mount, Aug. 20, 1833.

1 The visit which occasioned the poem [" Yarrow Re-
visited,"] addressed to Sir Walter Scott, that you mention
in terms so flattering, was a very melancholy one. My
daughter was with me. We arrived at his house on
Monday noon, and left it at the same time on Thursday,
the very day before he quitted Abbotsford for London, on
his way to Naples. On the morning of our departure he
composed a few lines for Dora's Album, and wrote them
in it. We prize this memorial very much, and the more
so as an affecting testimony of his regard at a time when,
as the verses prove, his health of body and powers of
mind were much impaired and shaken. You will recollect
the little green book which you were kind enough to write
in on its first page.

' Let me hope that your health will improve, so that you
may be enabled to proceed with the sacred poetry with
which you are engaged. Be assured that I shall duly
appreciate the mark of honour you design for me in con-
nection with so interesting a work.' *

* [This friendship began in the summer of 1830, when Mrs.
Hemans spent a fortnight at Rydal Mount, as a guest of the
Wordsworth family : an agreeable record of her visit is preserved
in her letters written at the time ; see Chorley's ' Memorials of
Mrs. Hemans,' Chap, xn., and the ' Memoir of Mrs. Hemans by
her Sister.' — H. R.]

CHAPTER XLVIII.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN SCOTLAND, ETC., 1833.

IN the volume referred to in the last chapter, entitled
4 Yarrow Revisited,' &c., are contained Memorials of a
Tour made by Mr. Wordsworth, accompanied by his son,
the Rev. John Wordsworth, rector of Brigham, near Cock-
ermouth, and Henry Crabb Robinson, Esq., in the summer
of 1833.

4 The course pursued was, down the Cumberland river
Derwent, and to Whitehaven ; thence, by the Isle of Man,
where a few days were passed, up the Frith of Clyde to
Greenock ; then to Oban, Staffa, lona ; and back towards
England by Loch Awe, Inverary, Loch Goilhead, Green-
ock, and through parts of Renfrewshire, Ayrshire, and
Dumfriesshire, to Carlisle ; and thence up the river Eden,
and by Ullswater to Rydal.' l

In these l Memorials,' the Poet pays a tribute of affec-
tionate remembrance to the river on whose banks he was
nursed, the Derwent ; and to the town in which he was
born, and in whose churchyard his father's remains lie ;
and to the castle of Cockermouth, ia which he played
when a boy.2

The l Nun's Well,' 3 mentioned in the next sonnet, is at

•' See preliminary note, vol. iv. p. 143.

2 Vol. iv. p. 145, 146. a Vol. iv. p. 147.

248 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR

Brigham, his son's parish ; and tn"e building of a new
parsonage in that parish by the rector supplied the occa-
sion of that which follows,

' Pastor and patriot, at whose bidding rise
These modest walls.' l

An act of his younger son, William, saving the life of a
boy, is the subject of another sonnet in the same series,
entitled 'Isle of Man.'2 The 'Retired Mariner,' who
wrote the sonnet beginning

' From early youth I ploughed the restless main,'

was a brother of Mrs. Wordsworth, Mr. Henry Hutchinson,
a person of great originality and vigour of mind, a very
enterprising sailor, and a writer of verses distinguished by
no ordinary merit. The next sonnet is supposed to express
the feelings of a friend, Mr. Cookson, who resided at Bala
Sala, and died a few years after it was written.3

The following particulars were noted down from Mr.
Wordsworth's mouth concerning the sonnet on l Tynwald
Hill,' where the king of Man was enthroned in olden
times.4

Tynwald Hill. — 4 Mr. Robinson and I walked the
greater part of the way from Castle-Town to Peel, and
stopped some time at Tynwald Hill. One of our com-
panions was an elderly man, who, in a muddy way, for
he was tipsy, explained and answered, as far as he could,
my inquiries about this place, and the ceremonies held
here. I found more agreeable company in some little
children, one of whom, upon my request, recited the
Lord's Prayer to me, and I helped her to a clearer under-
standing of it as well as I could; but I was -not at all

1 Vol. iv. p. 147. 2 Vol. iv. p. 156.

3 Vol. iv. p. 157. 4 Vol. iv. p. 158.

IN SCOTLAND, ETC., 1833. 249

satisfied with my own part — hers was much better done ;
and I am persuaded that, like other children, she knew
more about it than she was able to express, especially to
a stranger.' l

He also gave some details on the occasion of the sonnet
on c Ailsa Crag,1 in the Frith of Clyde, in an eclipse of
the sun, July 17.

Ailsa Crag. — ' The morning of the eclipse was ex-
quisitely beautiful while we passed the crag, as described
in the sonnet. On the deck of the steamboat were sev-
eral persons of the poor and labouring class ; and I could
not but be struck with their cheerful talk with each other,
while not one of them seemed to notice the magnificent
objects with which we were surrounded ; and even the
phenomenon of the eclipse attracted but little of their at-
tention. Was it right not to regret this ? They appeared
to me, however, so much alive in their own minds to their
own concerns that I could not but look upon it as a mis-
fortune that they had little perception for such pleasures
as cannot be cultivated without ease and leisure. Yet, if
one surveys life in all its duties and relations, such ease
and leisure will not be found so enviable a privilege as it
may at first appear. Natural philosophy, painting, and
poetry, and refined taste, are no doubt great acquisitions
to society ; but among those who dedicate themselves to
such pursuits, it is to be feared that few are as happy and
as consistent in the management of their lives as the class
of persons who at that time led me into this course of
reflection. Among them, self-tormentors, so numerous in
the higher classes of society, are rare.' *

1 MSS. I.F.

* [A similar phenomenon of the heavens had been the subject
of one of his earlier poems — « The Eclipse of the Sun — 1820/

250 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR

The first sonnet on l StafFa ' l describes the unfavour-
able condition in which tourists are placed, for the con-
templation of Nature, when they hurry about, or are
driven, as it were, in herds through magnificent scenes,
instead of viewing them under those circumstances of
leisure and repose which are requisite to a due apprecia-
tion of what is sublime or picturesque.

' How, then,' Mr. Wordsworth asks, ' came the three
next sonnets to be written on StafFa ? ' 'In fact,' was the
answer, ' at the risk of incurring the reasonable dis-
pleasure of the master of the steamboat, I returned to the
cave after the crowd had departed, and explored it under
circumstances more favourable to those impressions which
it is so wonderfully fitted to make upon the mind.' 2

The sonnet of ' Mosgiel Farm,' once held by Burns,3
drew the following remarks from the author, upon Burns
and his poetry.

There, said a stripling. — 4 Mosgiel was thus pointed
out to me by a young man, on the top of the coach on
my way from Glasgow to Kilmarnock. It is remarkable,
that though Burns lived some time here, and during much
the most productive period of his poetical life, he nowhere
adverts to the splendid prospects stretching towards the
sea, and bounded by the peaks of Arran on one part,
which in clear weather he must have had daily before his

(Vol. in. p. 132) of which Professor Wilson said — < We do not
hesitate to pronounce " Eclipse of the Sun, 1820," one of the finest
lyrical effusions of combined thought, passion, sentiment, and
imagery within the whole compass of poetry.' See his grand
criticism on the poem, in the article ' Sacred Poetry,' in ( The
Recreations of Christopher North,' Vol. n. p. 363. — H. R.]

1 Vol. iv. p. 164. 2 See note, vol. iv. p. 290.

s Vol. iv. p. 168.

IN SCOTLAND, ETC., 1833. 251

eyes. Yet this is easily explained. In one of his poet-
ical effusions he speaks of describing " fair Nature's
face," as a privilege on which he sets a high value ; nev-
ertheless, natural appearances rarely take a lead in his
poetry. It is as a human being, eminently sensitive and
intelligent, and not as a poet clad in his priestly robes and
carrying the ensigns of sacerdotal office, that he interests
and affects us.

4 Whether he speaks of rivers, hills, and woods, it is not
so much on account of the properties with which they are
absolutely endowed, as relatively to local patriotic remem-
brances and associations, or as they are ministerial to per-
sonal feelings, especially those of love, whether happy or
otherwise ; yet it is not always so. Soon after we passed
Mosgiel Farm we crossed the Ayr, murmuring and wind-
ing through a narrow woody hollow. His line,

" Auld hermit Ayr staw1 through his woods,"

came atvonce to my mind, with Irwin, Lugar, Ayr, and Doon,
Ayrshire streams over which he breathes a sigh, as being
unnamed in song ; and, surely, his own attempts to make
them known were as successful as his heart could desire.'
On the sonnet entitled ' Nunnery,' a he said, ' I became
acquainted with the walks of Nunnery when a boy. They
are within easy reach of a day's pleasant excursion from
the town of Penrith, where I used to pass my summer holi-
days under the roof of my maternal grandfather. The
place is well worth visiting, though within these few years
its privacy, and therefore the pleasure which the scene is
so well fitted to give, has been injuriously affected by
walks cut in the rocks on that side the stream which had
been left in its natural state.'

1 < Staw,' i. e. stole. * Vol. iv. p. 170.

252 TOUR IN SCOTLAND, ETC., 1833.

The tourists turned to the south-west from Penrith, and
returned home by Ullswater, the banks of which are the
scene of the ' Somnambulist.' l

1 This poem,' said Mr. W., 4 might be dedicated to my
friend Sir G. Beaumont and Mr. Rogers jointly. While
we were making an excursion together in this part of the
Lake District, we heard that Mr. Glover the artist, while
lodging at Lyulph's Tower, had been disturbed by a loud
shriek, and upon rising he learnt that it had come from
a young woman in the house who was in the habit of
walking in her sleep. In that state she had gone down
stairs, and, while attempting to open the outer door,
either from some difficulty, or the effect of the cold stone
upon her feet, had uttered the cry which alarmed him.
It seemed to us all that this might serve as a hint for a
poem, and the story here told was constructed, and soon
after put into verse by me as it now stands.'

One of the concluding sonnets belongs to the same
neighbourhood —

' Not in the mines beyond the western main,
You say, CORDELIA, was the metal sought j ' 2

and is a record of the Poet's affection for one of the
inmates of the hospitable mansion of Hallsteads, a family
with whom Mr. Wordsworth, and his wife, sister, and
daughter, were long united by the ties of a very near and
dear friendship.

1 Vol. iv. p. 173. 2 Vol. iv. p. 178.

CHAPTER XLIX.

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS. REFORM IN PARLIAMENT.

UNIVERSITY REFORM. EVENING VOLUNTARIES.

4 IN the present volume ' 1 (that is, his "Yarrow Revisited,")
says Mr. Wordsworth, ' as in the author's previous poems,

1 Postscript, vol. v. p. 250. In this postscript, which stands at
p. 323 of the volume ' Yarrow Revisited,' &c., Mr. Wordsworth
has expressed his opinion more in detail on certain questions of
civil and ecclesiastical polity.*

* [It is of this ' Postscript ' that the daughter of Coleridge has
lately said — ' After framing the above attempt at proving that
justice is embodied in the principle of a Poor Law by the recipro-
cation of rights and duties, and the interchange of benefits, since
the poor man out of work is only by accident, and for a given
time, out of the condition of contributing his services to the com-
monwealth, I found, to my delight, the argument which had pos-
session of my mind, — the same argument in substance, — more
forcibly stated by Mr. Wordsworth in the fine discourse of econo-
mical polity, which is placed at the end of 'his Yarrow volume.
Because Mr. Wordsworth is a great Poet, the misjudging many
(I do not speak of thoughtful men) take it for granted, that he
is no more to be consulted or put faith in, on such a subject as
political economy, than a lion is to be sent to market with pan-
niers on his back, like old Dobbin. The essay of which I have
spoken, and which appears under the unassuming title of " Post-
script," if divided and expanded, would suffice to create a reputa-
tion for a new and unknown writer. Like the many-branched
oak of ages, Mr Wordsworth overshadows himself, in part, with
himself. In common with most great writers, he is not to be taken

254 POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS.

the reader will have found occasionally opinions expressed
upon the course of public affairs, and feelings given vent
to, as national interests excited them.'

The greater portion of that volume was written in the
eventful period of the years 1830- 1834, when a revolu-
tionary tempest, let loose from France, was sweeping over
Europe ; and when England was passing through the
throes of agitation produced by the discussion of the
Reform Bill.

In the Poet's own words,1 these his effusions were
poured forth at a time, when

every day brought with it tidings new

Of rash change, ominous for the public weal.'

These poems were composed under the impulse of
strong feelings of patriotism and philanthropy. Solicitous
for the peace, honour, and prosperity of his country, and
of society at large, and writing under the inspiration of
alarm aggravated by his own reminiscences of the horrors
perpetrated before his own eyes, in the sacred name of
Liberty and Reason, in revolutionary France, at the close
of the last century, he craves indulgence and forgiveness.

' If dejection have too oft encroached
Upon that sweet and tender melancholy
Which may, itself, be cherished and caressed
More than enough.'

in during one course of study ; for the individual student one set
of his productions postpones, if it does not prevent, the knowledge
of another set. But I allude to that study whereby we receive
a poet's heart and mind into our own, not to mere ordinary read-
ing.' See Introductory ' Sections' (No. ix.) by Mrs. H. N. Cole-
ridge, in ' Essays on His own Times, by S. T. Coleridge, edited
by his Daughter, 1850.' Vol. i. p. 62. — H. R.]

1 Vol. iii. p. 238.

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS.

His feelings at this time may be gathered from his
communications to his friends. The following, written in
1831, will be read with interest. It is a reply to a much
valued friend, the Rev. J. K. Miller, vicar of Walkering-
ham, who, together with some other correspondents,
particularly the late revered and lamented Hugh James
Rose, had urged Mr. Wordsworth to exercise those powers,
in writing on public affairs, which he had displayed twenty
years before, in his * Essay on the Convention of Cintra.'

'Rydal Mount, Kendal, Dec. 17, 1831.
4 My dear Sir,

4 You have imputed my silence, I trust, to some cause
neither disagreeable to yourself nor unworthy of me.
Your letter of the 26th of Nov. had been misdirected to
Penrith, where the postmaster detained it some time,
expecting probably that I should come to that place, which
I have often occasion to visit. When it reached me I was
engaged in assisting my wife to make out some of my
mangled and almost illegible MSS., which inevitably
involved me in endeavours to correct and improve them.
My eyes are subject to frequent inflammations, of which I
had an attack (and am still suffering from it) while that
was going on. You would nevertheless have heard from
me almost as soon as I received your letter, could I have
replied to it in terms in any degree accordant to my
wishes. Your exhortations troubled me in a way you
cannot be in the least aware of; for I have been repeat-
edly urged by some of my most valued friends, and at
times by my own conscience, to undertake the task you
have set before me. But I will deal frankly with you.
A conviction of my incompetence to do justice to the
momentous subject has kept me, and I fear will keep me,
silent. My sixty-second year will soon be completed,

256 POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS.

and though I have been favoured thus far in health and
strength beyond most men of my age, yet I feel its effects
upon my spirits ; they sink under a pressure of apprehen-
sion to which, at an earlier period of my life, they would
probably have been superior. There is yet another ob-
stacle : I am no ready master of prose writing, having
been little practised in the art. This last consideration
will not weigh with you ; nor would it have done with
myself a few years ago ; but the bare mention of it will
serve to show that years have deprived me of courage, in
the sense the word bears when' applied by Chaucer to the
animation of birds in spring time.

4 What I have already said precludes the necessity of
otherwise confirming your assumption that I am opposed
to the spirit you so justly characterize.1 To your opin-
ions upon this subject, my judgment (if I may borrow
your own word) " responds." Providence is now trying
this empire through her political institutions. Sound
minds find their expediency in principles ; unsound, their
principles in expediency. On the proportion of these
minds to each other the issue depends. From calculations
of partial expediency in opposition to general principles,
whether those calculations be governed by fear or pre-
sumption, nothing but mischief is to be looked for ; but,
in the present stage of our affairs, the class that does the
most harm consists of well-intentioned men, who, being
ignorant of human nature, think that they may help the
thorough-paced reformers and revolutionists to a certain
point, then stop, and that the machine will stop with them.
After all, the question is, fundamentally, one of piety and
morals ; of piety, as disposing men who are anxious for
social improvement to wait patiently for God's good time ;

1 As revolutionary.

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS. 257

and of morals, as guarding them from doing evil that good
may come> or thinking that any ends can be so good as
to justify wrong means for attaining them. In fact, means,
in the concerns of this life, are infinitely more important
than ends, which are to be valued mainly according to the
qualities and virtues requisite for their attainment ; and
the best test of an end being good is the purity of the
means, which, by the laws of God and our nature, must
be employed in order to secure it. Even the interests of
eternity become distorted the moment they are looked at
through the medium of impure means. Scarcely had I
written this, when I was told by a person in the Treasury,
that it is intended to carry the Reform Bill by a new cre-
ation of peers. If this be done, the constitution of Eng-
land will be destroyed, and the present Lord Chancellor,
after having contributed to murder it, may consistently
enough pronounce, in his place, its elogefunebre !

4 1 turn with pleasure to the sonnets you have addressed
to me, and if I did not read them with unqualified satisfac-
tion, it was only from consciousness that I was unworthy
of the encomiums they bestowed upon me.

'Among the papers I have lately been arranging, are
passages that would prove, as forcibly as anything of
mine that has been published, you were not mistaken in
your supposition that it is the habit of my mind insepa-
rably to connect loftiness of imagination with that humility
of mind which is best taught in Scripture.

4 Hoping that you will be* indulgent to my silence,
which has been, from various causes, protracted con-
trary to my wish,

4 Believe me to be, dear Sir,

4 Very faithfully yours,

* WM. WORDSWORTH.'

VOL. II. 17

'258 REFORM IN PARLIAMENT.

About the same time, in writing to a scientific and lit-
erary friend on poetical topics, he reverts to what was
then uppermost in his mind — the political crisis of the
time.

'Nov. 22, 1831.

1 My dear ,

4 You send me showers of verses, which I receive with
much pleasure, as do we all ; yet have we fears that this
employment may seduce you from the path of science,
which you seem destined to tread with so much honour to
yourself and profit to others. Again and again I must
repeat, that the composition of verse is infinitely more of
an art than men are prepared to believe ; and absolute
success in it depends upon innumerable minutiae, which it
grieves me you should stoop to acquire a knowledge of.
Milton talks of " pouring easy his unpremeditated verse."
It would be harsh, untrue, and odious, to say there is any-
thing like cant in this ; but it is not true to the letter,
and tends to mislead. I could point out to you five hun-
dred passages in Milton upon which labour has been
bestowed, and twice five hundred more to which additional
labour would have been serviceable. Not that I regret
the absence of such labour, because no poem contains
more proofs of skill acquired by practice.

" Shakspeare's sonnets (excuse this leaf) are not upon
the Italian model, which Milton's are ; they are merely
quatrains with a couplet attached to the end, and if they
depended much upon the versification they would una-
voidably be heavy.

4 One word upon Reform in Parliament, a subject to
which, somewhat reluctantly, you allude. You are a
reformer ! Are you an approver of the Bill as rejected

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS. 259

by the Lords? or, to use Lord Grey's words, anything
" as efficient ? " — he means, if he means anything, for
producing change. Then I earnestly entreat you to devote
hours and hours to the study of human nature, in books,
in life, and in your own mind ; and beg and pray that you
would mix with society, not in Ireland and Scotland only,
but in England ; a fount of destiny which, if once poi-
soned, away goes all hope of quiet progress in well doing.
The constitution of England, which se^ms about to be de-
stroyed, offers to my mind the sublimest contemplation
which the history of society and government have ever
presented to it ; and for this cause especially, that its
principles have the character of preconceived ideas,
archetypes of the pure intellect, while they are, in fact,
the results of a humble-minded experience. Think about
this, apply it to what we are threatened with, and farewell.

1 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The following letters, written in the next year, intimate
that his mind was labouring under a weight of grief of a
twofold nature.

My Lord,

To Lord Lonsdale.

'Rydal Mount, Feb. 17, 1832.

4 If, after all, I should be asked how I would myself
vote, if it had been my fortune to ha,ve a seat in the
House of Lords, I must say that I should oppose the
second reading, though with my eyes open to the great
hazard of doing so. My support, however, would be
found in standing by a great principle ; for, without being
unbecomingly personal, I may state to your Lordship,

260 REFORM IN PARLIAMENT.

that it has ever been the habit of my mind to trust that
expediency will come out of fidelity to principles, rather
than to seek my principles of action in calculations of
expediency.

4 With this observation I conclude, trusting your Lord-
ship will excuse my having detained you so long.
4 1 have the honour to be, most faithfully,

4 Your much obliged,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Lady Frederick Bentinck.

4 You were not mistaken in supposing that the state of
public affairs has troubled me much. I cannot see how
the government is to be carried on, but by such sacrifices
to the democracy as will, sooner or later, upset every-
thing. Whoever governs, it will be by out-bidding for
popular favour those who went before them. Sir Robert
Peel was obliged to give way in/ his government to the
spirit of Reform, as it is falsely called ; these men are
going beyond him ; and if ever he shall come back, it will
only, I fear, be to carry on the movement, in a shape
somewhat less objectionable than it will take from the
Whigs. In the mean wrhile the Radicals or Republicans
are cunningly content to have this work done ostensibly
by the Whigs, while in fact they themselves are the
Whigs' masters, as the Whigs well know ; but they hope
to be preserved from destruction by throwing themselves
back upon the Tories when measures shall be urged upon
them by their masters which they may think too desperate.
What I am most afraid of is, alterations in the constitu-
ency, and in the duration of Parliament, which will bring
it more and more under the dominion of the lower and
lowest classes. On this account I fear the proposed Cor-

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS. 261

poration Reform, as a step towards household suffrage,
vote by ballot, &c. As to a- union of the Tories and
Whigs in Parliament, 1 see no prospect of it whatever.
To the great Whig lords may be truly applied the expres-
sion in Macbeth,

\

" They have eaten of the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner."

* I ordered two copies of my new volume to be sent to
Cottesmere. And now farewell ; and believe me,
1 Dear Lady Frederick,

4 Ever faithfully yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

To the Rev. Dr. Wordsworth.

'Rydal Mount, April 1, 1832.
4 My dear Brother,

4 Our dear sister makes no progress towards recovery
of strength. She is very feeble, never quits her room,
and passes most of the day in, or upon, the bed. She
does not suffer much pain, and is very cheerful, and
nothing troubles her but public affairs and the sense of
requiring so much attention. Whatever may be the close
of this illness, it will be a profound consolation to you, my
dear brother, and to us all, that it is borne with perfect
resignation ; and that her thoughts are such as the good
and pious would wish. She reads much, both religious
and miscellaneous works.

4 If you see Mr. Watson, remember me affectionately
to him.

4 1 was so distressed with the aspect of public affairs,
that were it not for our dear sister's illness, I should think
of nothing else. They are to be envied, I think, who,

262 REFORM IN PARLIAMENT.

from age or infirmity, are likely to be removed from the
afflictions which God is preparing for this sinful nation.
God bless you, my brother. John says you are well ; so
am I, and every one here except our sister : but I have
witnessed one revolution in a foreign country, and I have
not courage to think of facing another in my own. Fare-
well. God bless you again.

1 Your affectionate Brother,

' W. W.'

To Professor Hamilton.

1 Moresby, June 25, 1832.
1 My dear Mr. Hamilton,

4 Your former letter reached me in due time ; your
second, from Cambridge, two or three days ago. I ought
to have written to you long since, but really I have for
some time, from private and public causes of sorrow and
apprehension, been in a great measure deprived of those
genial feelings which, through life, have not been so much
accompaniments of my character, as vital principles of
my existence.

'It gives me much pleasure that you and Coleridge
have met, and that you were not disappointed in the con-
versation of a man from whose writings you had previously
drawn so much delight and improvement. He and my
beloved sister are the two beings to whom my intellect is
most indebted, and they are now proceeding, as it were,
pari passu, along the path of sickness, I will not say
towards the grave, but I trust towards a blessed immor-
tality.

' It was not my intention to write so seriously : my
heart is full, and you must excuse it.

4 Ever faithfully yours,

4WM. WORDSWORTH.'

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS. 263

To Mrs. Hemans.

'Rydal Mount, Nov. 22, [1832.]
4 Dear Mrs. Hemans,

4 I will not render this sheet more valueless than at best
it will prove, by tedious apologies for not answering your
very kind and welcome letter long and long ago. I
received it in London, when my mind was in a most
uneasy state, and when my eyes were useless both for
writing and reading, so that an immediate reply was out
of my power ; and, since, I have been doubtful where to
address you. Accept this, and something better, as my
excuse, that I have very often thought of you with kind-
ness and good wishes for your welfare, and that of your
fine boys, who must recommend themselves to all that
come in their way. Let me thank you in Dora's name
for your present of " The Remains of Lucretia David-
son," a very extraordinary young creature, of whom I
had before read some account in Mr. Southey's review of
this volume. Surely many things, not often bestowed,
must concur to make genius an enviable gift. This truth
is painfully forced upon one's attention in reading the
effusions and story of this enthusiast, hurried to her grave
so early. You have, I understand, been a good deal in
Dublin. The place I hope has less of the fever of intel-
lectual, or rather literary, ambition than Edinburgh, and
is less disquieted by factions and cabals of persons. As
to those of parties they must be odious and dreadful
enough ; but since they have more to do with religion, the
adherents of the different creeds, perhaps, mingle little
together, and so the mischief to social intercourse, though
great, will be somewhat less.

4 1 am not sure but that Miss Jewsbury has judged well

264 REFORM IN PARLIAMENT.

in her determination of going to India. Europe is at
present a melancholy spectacle, and these two Islands are
likely to reap the fruit of their own folly and madness,
in becoming, for the present generation, the two most un-
quiet and miserable spots upon the earth. May you, my
dear friend, find the advantage of the poetic spirit in
raising you, in thought at least, above the contentious
clouds ! Never before did I feel such reason to be grateful
for what little inspiration heaven has graciously bestowed
upon my humble intellect. What you kindly wrote upon
the interest you took during your travels in my verses,
could not but be grateful to me, because your own show,
that in a rare degree you understand and sympathize with
me. We are all well, God be thanked. I am a wretched
correspondent, as this scrawl abundantly shows. I know
also, that you have far too much, both of receiving and
writing letters, but I cannot conclude without expressing a
wish, that from time to time you would let us hear from
you and yours, and how you prosper. All join with me
in kindest remembrance to yourself and your boys, espe-
cially to Charles, of whom we know most. Believe me,
dear Mrs. Hemans, not the less for my long silence,
' Faithfully and affectionately yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The following lines, also, written in 1833, give utterance
to his feelings at this period.1

' Who shall preserve or prop the tottering Realm?
What hand suffice to govern the state-helm ?
If, in the aims of men, the surest test
Of good or bad (whate'er be sought for^r profest)
Lie in the means required, or ways ordained,
For compassing the end, else never gained ;

1 Vol. iv. p. 237.

POLITICAL APPREHENSIONS. 265

Yet governors and governed both are blind

To this plain truth, or fling it to the wind j

If to expedience principle must bow ;

Past, future, shrinking up beneath the incumbent Now ;

If cowardly concession still must feed

The thirst for power in men who ne'er concede, — '

Then he forebodes the most disastrous consequences ; and
therefore utters the following prayer.

1 0 for a bridle bitted with remorse
To stop your Leaders in their headstrong course !
Oh may the Almighty scatter with his grace
These mists, and lead you to a safer place,
By paths no human wisdom can foretrace !
May He pour round you, from worlds far above
Man's feverish passions, His pure light of love ! '

I pass to another topic.

In the summer of 1833, a near relative of his, who had
been invited to take a part in the duties of tuition, in a
college at Cambridge, and had consulted Mr. Wordsworth
on the expediency of accepting the offer, received from
him the following reply.

'Rydal Mount, June 17, 1833.
4 My dear C ,

1 You are welcome to England after ,your long ramble.
I know not what to say in answer to your wish for my
opinion upon the offer of the lectureship. v. A. ,-,«*'

'I have only one observation to make, to which I should
attach importance if I thought it called for in your case,
which I do not. I mean the moral duty of avoiding to
encumber yourself with private pupils in any number.
You are at an age when the blossoms of the mind are
setting, to make fruit ; and the practice of pupil-mongering
is an absolute blight for this process. Whatever deter-

266 UNIVERSITY REFORM.

mination you come to, may God grant that it proves for
your benefit : this prayer I utter with earnestness, being

deeply interested, my dear C , in all that concerns

you. I have said nothing of the uncertainty hanging over
all the establishments, especially the religious and literary
ones of the country, because if they are to be overturned,
the calamity would be so widely spread, that every mode
of life would be involved in it, and nothing survive for
hopeful calculation.

4 We are always delighted to hear of any or all of you.

God bless you, my dear C .

4 Most faithfully, your affectionate,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

This mention of university affairs leads me to remind
the reader, that in the spring of the following year (the
year 1834) the question of UNIVERSITY REFORM, as it
was termed, was debated in parliament. A bill was laid
on the table of the Lower House, for legalizing the admis-
sion of persons to reside and graduate in the English
universities, without any subscription or declaration of
conformity to the Church. This measure produced a
good deal of discussion within as well as without the
walls of those institutions. It was argued by some mem-
bers of the universities that the academic system would
not suffer in its religious character if the law, which
prescribes attendance at divine worship in the college
chapels, were abrogated ; and that Nonconformists might
be admitted with a full understanding that they should
not be required to attend any lectures in which any of the
distinctive doctrines of Christianity were inculcated, but
should be left free to resort for separate worship and
instruction to teachers of their own persuasion, who, it

TjriVERSITY REFORM. 267

«r

was contemplated, might be matriculated, incorporated,
and domiciled, in the ancient colleges of the universities.

I have been induced to advert to this discussion, because
it might be inferred from a passage in Mr. Wordsworth's
4 Prelude,' that he would not have been unfavourable to
the suspension of the daily service in the college chapels.1
But it should be remembered that this passage was written
in his earlier years, when his principles were not yet set-
tled, and he was full of sad recollections of the coldness
and irreverence which had seemed to him to prevail in
those services when he was an undergraduate. I need not,
pause to observe that irreverence is obtrusive in its nature,
whereas piety is retiring ; and that therefore the acci-

1 The passage is as follows, ' Prelude/ p. 72 :

' Be Folly and False-seeming free to affect
Whatever formal gait of discipline .
Shall raise them highest in their own esteem —
Let them parade among the Schools at will,
But spare the House of God. Was ever known
The witless shepherd who persists to drive
A flock that thirsts not to a pool disliked ?
A weight must surely hang on days begun
And ended with such mockery. Be wise,
Ye Presidents and Deans, and, till the spirit
Of ancient times revive, and youth be trained
At home in pious service, to your bells
Give seasonable rest, for 't is a sound
Hollow as ever vexed the tranquil air ;
And your officious doings bring disgrace
On the plain steeples of our English Church,
Whose worship, 'mid remotest village trees,
Suffers for this. Even science, too, at hand
In daily sight of this irreverence,
Is smitten thence with an unnatural taint,
Loses her just authority, falls beneath
Collateral suspicion,1 else unknown.'

268 UNIVERSITY REFORM.

dental evil of the system is easily cognizable, but that no
human eye can appreciate the essential good. But I
would advert to the fact that even in that passage he is an
advocate for the daily service in colleges, provided only
that parents and schoolmasters do their duty in imbuing
children and scholars with religious principles, and in
exercising them in habits of devotion, and in so training
them for the universities.

In his later years, and particularly at the period to
which I have been adverting in this chapter, he strongly
reprobated all attempts to unsettle the religious founda-
tions, and to disturb the religious practices of the English
universities.1

The writer of a letter to Lord Althorp 'On the Admis-
sion of Dissenters to graduate in the University at Cam-
bridge,' 2 in which the evils to be apprehended from the
abandonment of the ancient collegiate law and practice
with regard to the daily service were pointed out, received
the following from Mr. Wordsworth in acknowledgment
of that publication.

'May 15, 1834.

' My dear C ,

' You will wonder what is become of us, and I am
afraid you will think me very unworthy the trouble you
took in writing to us and sending your pamphlet. A
thousand little things have occurred to prevent my calling
upon Mrs. Wordsworth, who is ever ready to write for me,
in respect to the question that you have so ably handled.
Since the night when the Reform Bill was first introduced,
I have been convinced that the institutions of the country
cannot be preserved. ......

1 See above, Vol. I. p. 46-48. * Cambridge, May, 1834.

UNIVERSITY REFORM. 269

It is a mere question of time. A great majority of the
present parliament, I believe, are in the main favourable
to the preservation of the Church, but among these many
are ignorant how that is to be done. Add to the portion
of those who with good intentions are in the dark, the
number who will be driven or tempted to vote against
their consciences by the clamour of their sectarian and
infidel constituents under the Reform Bill, and you will
have a daily augmenting power even in this parliament,
which will be more and more hostile to the Church every
week and every day. You will see from the course which
my letter thus far has taken, that I regard the prayer of
the Petitioners to whom you are opposed as formidable
still more from the effect which, if granted, it will ulti-
mately have upon the Church, and through that medium
upon the Monarchy and upon social order, than for its im-
mediate tendency to introduce discord in the universities,
and all those deplorable consequences which you have so
feelingly painted as preparatory to their destruction.

1 1 am not yet able to use my eyes for reading or writ-
ing, but your pamphlet has been twice read to me. .
4 God bless you. ....

4 Affectionately yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

In the last year but one of his life, in a conversation
with an American gentleman, Mr. Wordsworth expressed
his regret at the attempts which had been made to disturb
the ancient practice of colleges with respect to the daily
service.

The following is a notice from himself, suggested by
one of his own sonnets l :

1 MSS. I. F.

270 EVENING VOLUNTARIES.

Sonnet 22. Decay of Piety. —

1 Oft have I seen, ere time had ploughed,' &c.

1 Attendance at church on prayer-days, Wednesdays and
Fridays, and holidays, received a shock at the Revolution.
It is now, however, happily reviving. The ancient people
described in this Sonnet were among the last of that pious
class. May we hope that the practice, now in some de-
gree renewed, will continue to spread ! '

But I turn from this topic to record that the strongest
expressions of Mr. Wordsworth's feelings on the political
aspect of this period will be found in ' The Warning,' l
which forms the sequel to his poem addressed to his
daughter-in-law on the birth of her first child, March,
1833. These lines were written at the close of his sixty-
third year, and the noble sentiments and vigorous diction
of c The Warning ' show that his poetical faculties were
still preserved in unimpaired fervour and energy.2

A beautiful contrast is presented to these poems by
another class, published in the same volume — the ' Eve-
ning Voluntaries.' 3 These are characterized by a soft
serenity and tender grace, not untinged with melancholy,
and yet brightened by faith ; and, standing as they do by
the side of those other poems, they are like sunsets of
Claude hanging beside battles of Salvator. Or, to adopt
an illustration from their own art, they call to mind that
interesting passage of the critic Longinus, when he con-
trasts the genius of Homer with itself, as seen severally in
the Iliad and the Odyssey, and compares it in the former
to the Sea in its full swell, and in the latter to its gentle

1 Vol. iv. p. 237. 2 Vol. iv. p. 239. 3 Vol. iv. p. 124- 140.

EVENING VOLUNTARIES. 271

ebb ; or, again, in the one case to the midday sun, and in
the other to the mellow lights and golden clouds of even-
ing.1

The following lines, derived from these Voluntaries,
present a beautiful picture of that meekness and humility
which is the characteristic of all truly great and powerful
intellects, and which was the pervading spirit of Words-
worth's mind, especially in his later years. One of his
nearest friends, who had the best opportunities of seeing
him in his most private moods, during the last twelve
years of his life, and was familiar with his inmost thoughts,
describes him as 4 the most humble and loving of men.1

' Not in the lucid intervals of life
That come but as a curse to party-strife ;
Not in some hour when Pleasure with a sigh
Of languor puts his rosy garland by ;
Not in the breathing-times of that poor slave
Who daily piles up wealth in Mammon's cave —
Is Nature felt, or can be ; nor do words,
"Which practised talent readily affords,
Prove that her hand has touched responsive chords ;
Nor has her gentle beauty power to move
With genuine rapture and with fervent love
The soul of Genius, if he dare to take
Life's rule from passion craved for passion's sake ;
Untaught that meekness is the cherished bent
Of all the truly great and all the innocent.

' But who M innocent ? By grace divine,
Not otherwise, 0 Nature ! we are thine,
Through good and evil thine, in just degree
Of rational and manly sympathy. *

Vain is the pleasure, a false calm the peace,
If He, through whom alone our conflicts cease,

1 Long. sect. ix.

272 EVENING VOLUNTARIES.

Our virtuous hopes without relapse advance,
Come not to speed the Soul's deliverance ;
To the distempered Intellect refuse
His gracious help, or give what we abuse.' l

And again (in an address to the Supreme Being) :

' Whate'er the path these mortal feet may trace,
Breathe through my soul the blessing of thy grace,
Glad, through a perfect love, a faith sincere
Drawn from the wisdom that begins with fear,
Glad to expand ; and, for a season, free
From finite cares, to rest absorbed in Thee ! ' 2

Mr. Wordsworth communicated the following recollec-
tions concerning these poems.3

Evening Voluntaries — Lines composed on a high part

1 Vol. iv. p. 128.

2 Vol. iv. p. 126. Compare the following :

' Sin-blighted though we are, we too,

The reasoning Sons of Men,
From one oblivious winter called

Shall rise, and breathe again ;
And in eternal summer lose

Our threescore years and ten.

' To humbleness of heart descends

This prescience from on high,
The faith that elevates the just,

Before and when they die j
And makes each soul a separate heaven,

A Court for Deity.' *
And, in fine :

' Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.' f

3 MSS. I. F.

* Vol. ii. p. 194. f Vol. v. p. 154.

EVENING VOLUNTARIES. 273

of the coast of Cumberland,1 Easter Sunday, April 7th,
the author's sixty-third birth-day. — ' The lines were com-
posed on the road between Moresby and Whitehaven,
while I was on a visit to my son, then rector of Moresby.
This succession of Voluntaries, with the exception of the
8th and 9th, originated in the concluding lines of the last
paragraph of this poem. With this coast I have been
familiar from my earliest childhood, and remember being
struck for the first time by the town and port of White-
haven, and the white waves breaking against its quays
and piers, as the whole came into view from the top of
the high ground down which the road, that has since been
altered, then descended abruptly. My sister, when she
first heard the voice of the sea from this point, and beheld
the scene spread before her, burst into tears. Our family
then lived at Cockermouth, and this fact was often men-
tioned among us as indicating the sensibility for whicb
she was so remarkable.'

Not in the lucid intervals of life? — 4 The lines follow-
ing, " Nor do words," &c., were written with Lord Byron's
character as a poet before me, and that of others his con-
temporaries, who wrote under like influences.'

The leaves that rustled? — 'Composed by the side of
Grasmere Lake. The mountains that enclose the vale,
especially towards Easedale, are most favourable to the
reverberation of sound : there is a passage in " The Ex-
cursion," towards the close of the 4th book,4 where the
voice of the raven in flight is traced through the modifi-
cations it undergoes, as I have often heard it in that vale
and others of this district.' *

1 Vol. iv. p. 125. 2 vol. iv. p. 127.

3 Vol. iv. p. 131. « Vol. vi. p. 131.

* [Among the 'Evening Voluntaries ' as first published, there

VOL. II. 18

274 EVENING VOLUNTARIES.

To this class may be added, as partaking of the same
meditative character, and as composed at this time and
published in this volume, the Lines suggested by a Por-
trait by F. Stone, at Rydal Mount,1 on which the Poet
thus speaks : ' This portrait has hung for many years in
our principal sitting-room, and represents J. Q. The
picture, though it is somewhat thinly painted, has much
merit in tone and general effect ; it is chiefly valuable,
however, for the sentiment that pervades it. The anec-
dote of the saying of the monk, in sight of Titian's picture,

appeared one which was withdrawn in the later editions ; it was
introduced with this autobiographical note :

1 For printing the following piece, some reason should be given,
as not a word of it is original ; it is simply a fine stanza of Aken-
side, connected with a still finer from Beattie, by a couplet of
Thomson. This practice, in which the author sometimes in-
dulges, of linking together, in his own mind, favourite passages
from different authors, seems in itself unobjectionable ; but, as
the publishing such compilations might lead to confusion in litera-
ture, he should deem himself inexcusable in giving this specimen,
were it not from a hope that it might open to others a harmless
source of private gratification.' The stanza from Beattie's Ode to
'Retirement,' which closed this 'cento' of Wordsworth's, doubt-
less delighted him as poetic description of the sounds in secluded
vales, which he speaks of above, and also by the fine imaginative
effect produced by the transition from the near sound to distant
space and silence :

' My haunt the hollow cliff whose Pine

Waves o'er the gloomy stream ;
Whence the scared Owl on pinions grey

Breaks from the rustling boughs,
And down the lone vale sails away
To more profound repose ! '

'YARROW REVISITED, etc.' p. 177. — H. R.]

1 Vol. iv. p. 249.

EVENING VOLUNTARIES. 275

was told me in this house by Mr. Wilkie, and was, I
believe, first communicated to the public in this poem, the
former portion of which I was composing at the time
Southey heard the story from Miss Hutchinson, and trans-
ferred it to the " Doctor ; " my friend Mr. Rogers, in a
note subsequently added to his " Italy," speaks of the
same remarkable words having many years before been
spoken in his hearing by a monk or priest in front of a
picture of the Last Supper, placed over a refectory table
in a convent at Padua.'

CHAPTER L.

DOMESTIC HISTORY, 1833-1837.

THE following extracts from Mr. Wordsworth's corres-
pondence may furnish some comment on the poems pub-
lished at this time, together with some details on his
personal history and opinions on literature and politics.

To the Rev. Alexander Dyce.

'Rydal Mount, Kendal, Jan. 7, 1833.
' My dear Sir,

4 Having an opportunity of sending this to town free of
postage, I write to thank you for your last obliging letter.
Sincerely do I congratulate you upon having made such
progress with Skelton, a writer deserving of far greater
attention than his works have hitherto received. Your
edition will be very serviceable, and may be the occasion
of calling out illustrations, perhaps, of particular passages
from others, beyond what your own reading, though so
extensive, has supplied. I am pleased also to hear that
"Shirley" is out.

' I lament to hear that your health is not good. My
own, God be thanked, is excellent ; but I am much de-
jected with the aspect of public affairs, and cannot but fear
that this nation is on the brink of great troubles.

DOMESTIC HISTORY. 277

4 Be assured that I shall at all times be happy to hear of
your studies and pursuits, being, with great respect,
4 Sincerely yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To the Rev. Alexander Dyce.

'Rydal Mount, March 20, 1833.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 have to thank you for the very valuable present of
Shirley's works, just received. The preface is all that I
have yet had time to read. It pleased me to find that you
sympathized with me in admiration of the passage from
the Duchess of Newcastle's poetry ; and you will be grati-
fied to be told that I have the opinion you have expressed
of that cold and false-hearted Frenchified coxcomb,
Horace Walpole.

4 Poor Shirley ! what a melancholy end was his ! and
then to be so treated by Dry den ! One would almost
suspect some private cause of dislike, such as is said to
have influenced Swift in regard to Dryden himself.

4 Shirley's death reminded me of a sad close of the life
of a literary person, Sanderson by name, in the neigh-
bouring county of Cumberland. He lived in a cottage
by himself, though a man of some landed estate. His
cottage, from want of care on his part, took fire in the
night. The neighbours were alarmed ; they ran to his
rescue ; he escaped, dreadfully burned, from the flames,
and lay down (he was in his seventieth year) much ex-
hausted under a tree, a few yards from the door. His
friends, in the meanwhile, endeavoured to save what they
could of his property from the flames. He inquired most
anxiously after a box in which his manuscripts and pub-
lished pieces had been deposited with a view to a publica-

278 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

tion of a laboriously-corrected edition ; and, upon being
told that the box was consumed, he expired in a few
minutes, saying, or rather sighing out the words, " Then
I do not wish to live." Poor man ! though the circulation
of his works had not extended beyond a circle of fifty
miles' diameter, perhaps, at furthest, he was most anxious
to survive in the memory of the few who were likely to
hear of him.

4 The publishing trade, I understand, continues to be
much depressed, and authors are driven to solicit or invite
subscriptions, as being in many cases the only means for
giving their works to the world.

4 1 am always pleased to hear from you ; and believe
me,

* My dear Sir,
4 Faithfully your obliged friend,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Professor Hamilton.

'Rydal Mount, May 8, 1833.
4 My dear Sir,

4 My letters being of no value but as tokens of friend-
ship, I waited for the opportunity of a frank, which I had
reason to expect earlier.

* Could not you take us in your way coming or going to
Cambridge ? If Mrs. H. accompanies you, we should be
glad to see her also.

4 1 hope that in the meeting about to take place in Cam-
bridge there will be less of mutual flattery among the
men of science than appeared in that of the last year at
Oxford. Men of science in England seem, indeed, to
copy their fellows in France, by stepping too much out

1833 - 1837. 279

of their way for titles, and baubles of that kind, and for
offices of state and political struggles, which they would
do better to keep out of.

4 With kindest regards to yourself and Mrs. H., and to
your sisters, believe me ever,

4 My dear Mr. H.,

4 Faithfully yours,

<W. W.'

To Charles Lamb, Esq.

' Rydal Mount, [Friday, May 17, 1833,

or thereabouts]. ,
4 My dear Lamb,

4 1 have to thank you and Moxon for a delightful vol-
ume, your last (I hope not), of44 Elia." I have read it all
except some of the 44 Popular Fallacies," which I reserve

The book has much pleased the whole of

my family, viz. my wife, daughter, Miss Hutchinson, and
my poor dear sister, on her sick bed ; they all return their
best thanks. I am not sure but I like the 44 Old China,"
and the 44 Wedding," as well as any of the Essays. I
read 44 Love me and my Dog " to my poor sister this
morning.

4 1 have been thus particular, knowing how much you
and your dear sister value this excelleat person, whose
tenderness of heart I do not honestly believe was ever
exceeded by any of God's creatures. Her loving-kindness
has no bounds God bless her for ever and ever ! Again
thanking you for your excellent book, and wishing to
know how you and your dear sister are, with best love
to you both from us all,

4 1 remain, my dear Lamb,

4 Your faithful friend,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

280 'DOMESTIC HISTORY.

To the Rev. Alexander Dyce.

[No date to this Letter, but written in 1833.]
4 My dear Sir,

' The dedication l which you propose I shall esteem as
an honour ; nor do 1 conceive upon what ground, but an
over-scrupulous modesty, I could object to it.

' Be assured that Mr. Southey will not have the slightest
unwillingness to your making any use you think proper of
his " Memoir of Bampfylde : " I shall not fail to mention
the subject to him upon the first opportunity.

' You propose to give specimens of the best sonnet-
writers in our language. May I ask if by this be meant
a selection of the best sonnets, best both as to kind and
degree ? A sonnet may be excellent in its kind, but that
kind of very inferior interest to one of a higher order,
though not perhaps in every minute particular quite so
well executed, and from the pen of a writer of inferior
genius. It should seem that the best rule to follow would
be, first, to pitch upon the sonnets which are best both in
kind and perfectness of execution, and, next, those which,
although of a humbler quality, are admirable for the finish
and happiness of the execution ; taking care to exclude
all those which have not one or other of these recom-
mendations, however striking they might be, as charac-
teristic of the age in which the author lived, or some
peculiarity of his manner. The 10th sonnet of Donne,
beginning " Death, be not proud," is so eminently char-
acteristic of his manner, and at the same time so weighty
in the thought, and vigorous in the expression, that I would

1 I had requested permission to dedicate a little book, < Speci-
mens of English Sonnets,' to Mr. W. — A. D.

1833-1837. 281

entreat you to insert it, though to modern taste it may be
repulsive, quaint, and laboured. There are two sonnets
of Russell, which, in all probability, you may have no-
ticed, " Could, then, the babes," and the one upon Philoc-
tetes, the last six lines of which are first-rate. Southey's
" Sonnet to Winter " pleases me much ; but, above all,
among modern writers, that of Sir Egerton Brydges,
upon " Echo and Silence." * Miss Williams's " Sonnet
upon Twilight " is pleasing ; that upon " Hope " of great
merit.

4 Do you mean to have a short preface upon the con-
struction of the sonnet ? Though I have written so many,
I have scarcely made up my own mind upon the subject.
It should seem that the sonnet, like every other legitimate
composition, ought to have a beginning, a middle, and an
end ; in other words, to consist of three parts, like the
three propositions of a syllogism, if such an illustration
may be used. BuJ the frame of metre adopted by the
Italians does not accord with this view ; and, as adhered
to by them, it seems to be, if not arbitrary, best fitted to
a division of the sense into two parts, of eight and six

* [The effect which Wordsworth's praise of this sonnet produced
upon Sir Egerton Brydges himself, is very cordially acknowledged
by him in the preface to his ' Autobiography,' dated ' Geneva,
1834 ; ' — where he says, — ' When, in the depression of my spi-
rits six or seven years ago, I lost all hope, I clung to the few
fragments of high praise, which two or three choice spirits had
conferred upon me. I really believe that three or four cherished
lines in the hand of Wordsworth, upon one of my sonnets, saved
me from a total mental wreck.' P. ix. The interest of this fact is
increased when it is remembered how, amid the gloom of disap-
pointment and morbid sensitiveness, Sir Egerton Brydges' long
life was distinguished by unwearied industry in European bib-
liography, and also by voluminous original work of authorship. —

II. R.]

282 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

lines each. Milton, however, has not submitted to this ;
in the better half of his sonnets the sense does not close
with the rhyme at the eighth line, but overflows into the
second portion of the metre. Now, it has struck me, that
this is not done merely to gratify the ear by variety and
freedom of sound, but also to aid in giving that pervading
sense of intense unity in which the excellence of the son-
net has always seemed to me mainly to consist. Instead
of looking at this composition as a piece of architecture,
making a whole out of three parts, I have been much in
the habit of preferring the image of an orbicular body, —
a sphere, or a dew-drop. All this will appear to you a
little fanciful ; and I am well aware that a sonnet will
often be found excellent, where the beginning, the middle,
and the end are distinctly marked, and also where it is
distinctly separated into two parts, to which, as 1 before
observed, the strict Italian model, as they write it, is
favourable. Of this last construction of sonnet, Russell's
upon " Philoctetes " is a fine specimen ; the first eight
lines give the hardship of the case, the six last the con-
solation, or the per-contra.

1 Ever faithfully

4 Your much obliged
4 friend and servant,

4 VV. WORDSWORTH.

1P. S. In the case of the Cumberland poet, I overlooked
a most pathetic circumstance. While he was lying under
the tree, and his friends were saving what they could
from the flames, he desired them to bring out the box that
contained his papers, if possible. A person went back for
it, but the bottom dropped out, and the papers fell into the
flames and were consumed. Immediately upon hearing
this, the poor old man expired.'

1833 - 1837. 283

To the Rev. Alexander Dyce.

'Lowther Castle, Sept. 23, [qu. Aug. 1833.

No date of the Year.]
1 My dear Sir,

4 1 have put off replying to your obliging letter till I
could procure a frank ; as I had little more to say than to
thank you for your attention to Lady Winchelsea,1 and
for the extracts you sent me.

4 1 expected to find at this place my friend, Lady
Frederick Bentinck, through whom I intended to renew
my request for materials, if any exist, among the Finch
family, whether manuscript poems, or anything else that
would be interesting ; but Lady F., unluckily, is not
likely to be in Westmoreland. I shall, however, write to
her. Without some additional materials, I think I should
scarcely feel strong enough to venture upon any species
of publication connected with this very interesting woman,
notwithstanding the kind things you say of the value of
my critical remarks.

1 1 am glad you have taken Skelton in hand, and much
wish I could be of any use to you. In regard to his life,
I am certain of having read somewhere (I thought it was
in Burns's " History of Cumberland and Westmoreland,"
but I am mistaken), that Skelton was born at Branthwaite
Hall, in the County of Cumberland. Certain it is that a
family of that name possessed the place for many gene-
rations ; and I own it would give me some pleasure to
make out that Skelton was a brother Cumbrian. Bran-
thwaite Hall is about six miles from Cockermouth, my
native place. Tickell (of the " Spectator"), one of the

1 i. e. To Mr. W.'s request that I would, if possible, furnish
him with some particulars about her. — A. D.

284 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

best of our minor poets, as Johnson has truly said, was
born within two miles of the same town. These are mere
accidents it is true, but I am foolish enough to attach
some interest to them.

' If it would be more agreeable to you, I would mention
your views in respect to Skelton to Mr. Southey : I should
have done so before, but it slipped my memory when I
saw him. Mr. Southey is undoubtedly much engaged,
but I cannot think that he would take ill a letter from you
on any literary subject. At all events, I shall, in a few
days, mention your intention of editing Skelton, and ask
if he has anything to suggest.

' I meditate a little tour in Scotland this autumn, my
principal object being to visit Sir Walter Scott ; but as I
take my daughter along with me, we probably shall go
to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and take a peep at the western
Highlands. This will not bring us near Aberdeen.1 If
it suited you to return to town by the Lakes, I should be
truly glad to see you at Rydal Mount near Ambleside.
You might, at all events, call on Mr. Southey in your
way ; I would prepare an introduction for you, by naming
your intention to Mr. S. I have added this, because my
Scotch tour, would, I fear, make it little likely that I
should be at home about the 10th September. Your
return, however, may be deferred.

1 Believe me, my dear Sir,

' Very respectfully, your obliged,

' W» WORDSWORTH.

' P. S. I hope your health continues good. I assure
you there was no want of interest in your conversation on
that or any other account.'

1 Where I then was. — A. D.

1833-1837. '285

To E. Moxon, Esq.

'Lowther Castle, Westmoreland, Aug. 1833.
' My dear Mr. Moxon,

4 There does not appear to be much genuine relish for
poetical publications in Cumberland, if I may judge from
the fact of not a copy of my poems having been sold
there by one of the leading booksellers, though Cumber-
land is my native county. Byron and Scott are, 1 api
persuaded, the only popular writers in that line, — per-
haps the word ought rather to be that they are fashionable
writers.

' My poor sister is something better in health. Pray
remember me very affectionately to Charles Lamb, and to
his dear sister, if she be in a state to receive such com-
munications from her friends. I hope Mr. Rogers is well ;
give my kindest regards to him also.

4 Ever, my dear Mr. Moxon,

1 Faithfully yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

To the Rev. Alexander Dyce.

'Rydal Mount, Dec. 4, 1833.
1 My dear Sir,

4 Your elegant volume of Sonnets,1 which you did me
the honour to dedicate to me, was received a few months
after the date of the accompanying letter ; and the copy
for Mr. Southey was forwarded immediately, as you may
have learned long ago, by a letter from himself. Suppos-
ing you might not be returned from Scotland, I have

1 Specimens of English Sonnets.— A. D.

280 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

deferred offering my thanks for this mark of your atten-
tion ; and about the time when I should otherwise probably
have written, I was seized with an inflammation in my
eyes, from the effects of which I am not yet so far recov-
ered as to make it prudent for me to use them in writing
or reading.1

4 The selection of sonnets appears to me to be very
judicious. If I were inclined to make an exception, it
would be in the single case of the sonnet of Coleridge
upon " Schiller," which is too much of a rant for my taste.
The one by him upon " Linley's Music " is much superior
in execution ; indeed, as a strain of feeling, and for unity
of effect, it is very happily done. I was glad to see Mr.
Southey's " Sonnet to Winter." A lyrical poem of my
own, upon the disasters of the French army in Russia,
has so striking a resemblance to it, in contemplating
winter under two aspects, that, in justice to Mr. Southey,
who preceded me, I ought to have acknowledged it in a
note ; and I shall do so upon some future occasion.

4 How do you come on with Skelton ? And is there
any prospect of a new edition of your " Specimens of
British Poetesses ? " If I could get at the original works
of the elder poetesses, such as the Duchess of Newcastle,
Mrs. Behn, Orinda, &c., I should be happy to assist you
with my judgment in such a publication, which, I think,
might be made still more interesting than this first edition,
especially if more matter were crowded into a page.
The two volumes of " Poems by Eminent Ladies," Helen
Maria Williams's works, Mrs. Smith's Sonnets, and Lady
Winchelsea's Poems, form the scanty materials which I
possess for assisting such a publication.

1 This letter is in the handwriting of Miss D. Wordsworth, but
signed by Mr. W.— A. D.

1833-1837. 287

4 It is a remarkable thing, that the two best ballads,
perhaps of modern times, viz., " Auld Robin Gray " and
the u Lament for the Defeat of the Scots at Flodden-
field," are both from the pens of females.

4 1 shall be glad to hear that your health is improved,
and your spirits good, so that the world may continue to
be benefited by your judicious and tasteful labours.

4 Pray let me hear from you at your leisure ; and
believe me, dear Sir,

4 Very faithfully yours,

4W. WORDSWORTH.

1 P. S. It is a pity that Mr. Hartley Coleridge's Son-
nets* had not been published before your collection was
made, as there are several well worthy of a place in it.
Last midsummer, I made a fortnight's tour in the Isle of
Man, Staffa, lona, &c., which produced between thirty
and forty sonnets, some of which, I think, would please
you.

4 Could not you contrive to take the Lakes in your way,
sometimes, to or from Scotland ? I need not say how
glad I should be to see you for a few days.

4 What a pity that Mr. Heber's wonderful collection of
books is about to be dispersed ! '

To Mrs. Hemans.

'Rydal Mount, April, 1834.
4 My dear Mrs. Hemans,

4 You have submitted what you intended as a dedication
of your poems to me. I need scarcely say that, as a

* [See these and other sonnets in the recent posthumous pub-
lication, ' Poems by Hartley Coleridge, with a Memoir of his Life
by his Brother, 1851.' — H. R.]

DOMESTIC HISTORY.

private letter, such expressions from such a quarter could
not have been received by me but with pleasure of no
ordinary kind, unchecked by any consideration but the
fear that my writings were overrated by you, and my
character thought better of than it deserved. But I must
say, that a public testimony, in so high a strain of admira-
tion, is what I cannot but shrink from : be this modesty
true or false, it is in me ; you must bear with it, and make
allowance for it. And, therefore, as you have submitted
the whole to my judgment, I am emboldened to express a
wish that you would, instead of this dedication, in which
your warm and kind heart has overpowered you, simply
inscribe them to me, with such expression of respect or
gratitude as would come within the limits of the rule
which, after what has been said above, will naturally sug-
gest itself. Of course, if the sheet has been struck off,
I must hope that my shoulders may become a little more
Atlantean than I now feel them to be.

4 My sister is not quite so well. She, Mrs. W., and
Dora, all unite with me in best wishes and kindest remem-
brances to yourself and yours ; and

4 Believe me, dear Mrs. Hemans,

4 To remain faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Lieutenant- General Sir William M. Gomm.

'Eydal Mount, April 16, 1834.
4 My dear Sir,

4 Your verses, for which I sincerely thank you, are an
additional proof of the truth which forced from me, many
years ago, the exclamation, " O, many are the poets that
are sown by nature ! " l The rest of that paragraph also

1 Excursion, book i.

1833 - 1837. 289

has some bearing upon your position in the poetical world.
The thoughts and images through both the poems, and the
feelings also, are eminently such as become their several
subjects ; but it would be insincerity were I to omit adding,
that there is here and there a want of that skill in work-
manship, which I believe nothing but continued practice
in the art can bestow. I have used the word art, from a
conviction, which I am called upon almost daily to ex-
press, that poetry is infinitely more of an art than the
world is disposed to believe. Nor is this any dishonour to
it ; both for the reason that the poetic faculty is not rarely
bestowed, and for this cause, also, that men would not be
disposed to ascribe so much to inspiration, if they did not
feel how near and dear to them poetry is.

4 With sincere regards and best wishes to yourself and
Lady Gomm,

4 Believe me to be very sincerely yours,
* W. WORDSWORTH.'

On the 25th July, 1834, Samuel Taylor Coleridge died.
In Wordsworth's language,1

' the mortal power of Coleridge
Was frozen at its marvellous source.'

The impressions produced at Rydal by the intelligence of
this event are described a.s follows, by a' friend who was
then present.

Extract from a Letter to a Friend, written by R. P. G2
1 The death of Coleridge was announced to us by his

1 Vol. v. p. 146.

2 The Rev. Robert Perceval Graves, to whom the writer of this
Memoir is indebted for much interesting information, especially
in reference to Mr. Wordsworth's friendship with Mrs. Hemans.

VOL. II. 19

290 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

friend Wordsworth. It was the Sunday evening after the
event occurred that my brother and I walked over to the
Mount, where we found the Poet alone. One of the first
things we heard from him was the death of one who had
been, he said, his friend for more than thirty years. He
then continued to speak of him ; called him the most
wonderful man that he had ever known — wonderful for
the originality of his mind, and the power he possessed of
throwing out in profusion grand central truths from which
might be evolved the most comprehensive systems.
Wordsworth, as a poet, regretted that German meta-
physics had so much captivated the taste of Coleridge,
for he was frequently not intelligible on this subject ;
whereas, if his energy and his originality had been more
exerted in the channel of poetry, an instrument of which
he had so perfect a mastery, Wordsworth thought he
might have done more permanently to enrich the literature,
and to influence the thought of the nation, than any man
of the age. As it was, however, he said he believed Cole-
ridge's mind to have been a widely fertilizing one, and
that the seed he had so lavishly sown in his conversational
discourses, and the Sibylline leaves (not the poems so
called by him) which he had scattered abroad so exten-
sively covered with his annotations, had done much to
form the opinions of the highest-educated men of the
day; although this might be an influence not likely to meet
with adequate recognition. After mentioning, in answer
to our inquiries about the circumstances of their friend-
ship, that though a considerable period had elapsed during
which they had not seen much of each other, Coleridge
and he had been, for more than two years, uninterruptedly,
in as close intimacy as man could be with man, he pro-
ceeded to read to us the letter from Henry Nelson Cole-
ridge which conveyed the tidings of his great relation's

1833-1837. 291

death, and of the manner of it. It appeared that his
death was a relief from intense pain, which, however,
subsided at the interval of a few days before the event ;
and that shortly after this cessation of agony, he fell into
a comatose state. The most interesting part of the letter
was the statement, that the last use he made of his fac-
ulties was to call his children and other relatives and
friends around him, to give them his blessing, and to ex-
press his hope to them that the manner of his end might
manifest the depth of his trust in his Saviour Christ. As
I heard this, I was at once deeply glad at the substance,
and deeply affected by Wordsworth's emotion in reading
it. When he came to this part his voice at first faltered,
and then broke ; but soon divine faith that the change was
a blest one overcame aught of human grief, and he con-
cluded in an equable though subdued tone. Before I quit
this subject, I will tell you what I was interested in hear-
ing from a person of the highest abilities, whom I had the
good fortune of meeting at Rydat Mount. He said that
he had visited Coleridge about a month before his death,
and had perceived at once his countenance pervaded by a
most remarkable serenity. On being congratulated on
his appearance, Coleridge replied that he did now, for the
first time, begin to hope, from the mitigation of his pains,
that his health was undergoing a permanent improvement
(alas ! he was deceived ; yet may we not consider this
hopeful feeling, which is, I believe by no means uncom-
mon, to be under such circumstances a valuable bless-
ing?); but that what he felt most thankful for was the
deep, calm, peace of mind which he then enjoyed ; a
peace such as he had never before experienced, or
scarcely hoped for. This, he said, seemed now settled
upon him ; and all things were thus looked at by him
through an atmosphere by which all were reconciled and
harmonized.'1

292 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

To Mrs. Hemans.

1 Rydal Mount, Sept. 1834.
' My dear Mrs. Hemans,

4 1 avail myself gladly of the opportunity of Mr.
Graves's return, to acknowledge the honour you have
done me in prefixing my name to your volume of beau-
tiful poems, and to thank you for the copy you have sent
me with your own autograph. Where there is so much
to admire, it is difficult to select; and therefore I shall
content myself with naming only two or three pieces.
And, first, let me particularize the piece that stands second
in the volume, " Flowers and Music in a sick Room."
This was especially touching to me, on my poor sister's
account, who has long been an invalid, confined almost to
her chamber. The feelings are sweetly touched through-
out this poem, and the imagery very beautiful ; above all,
in the passage where you describe the colour of the petals
of the wild rose. This morning, I have read the stanzas
upon " Elysium" with great pleasure. You have admira-
bly expanded the thought of Chateaubriand. If we had
not been disappointed in our expected pleasure of seeing
you here, I should have been tempted to speak of many
other passages and poems with which I have been de-
lighted.

1 Your health, I hope,1 is by this time re-established.

1 This hope, alas! was not realized. Mrs. Hemans died in the
following year, May 16, 1835.*

* [< Mourn rather for that holy Spirit,

Sweet as the spring, as ocean deep ;
For Her who, ere her summer faded,
Has sunk into a breathless sleep.'

Vol. v. p. 147. — H. R.]

1833-1837. 293

Your son, Charles, looks uncommonly well, and we have
had the pleasure of seeing him and his friends several
times ; but as you are aware, we are much engaged with
visitors at this season of the year, so as not always to be
able to follow our inclinations as to whom we would wish
to see. I cannot conclude without thanking you for your
Sonnet upon a place so dear to me as Grasmere: it is
worthy of the subject. With kindest remembrances, in
which unite Mrs. W., my sister, and Dora, I remain, dear
Mrs. Hemans,

4 Your much obliged friend,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

1 1 have written very hastily to spare my eyes ; a liberty
which you will excuse.'

To the Venerable Archdeacon Wrangham.

'Rydal Mount, Feb. 2, 1835.
1 My dear Wrangham,

4 Sincere thanks are due from me for the attention you
paid to Mrs. W.'s letter, written during my absence. You
know the favourable opinion I entertain of Mr. Graves ;
and I was under a promise to let him know, if any
vacancy occurred in the neighbourhood, and to do all I
could, without infringing upon prior or stronger claims, to
promote the attainment of his wishes.

4 The mind of every thinking man who is attached to
the Church of England must at this time be especially
turned to reflections upon all points 'of ecclesiastical
polity, government, and management, which may tend to
strengthen the Establishment in the affections of the
people, and enlarge the sphere of its efficiency. It can-
not, then, I feel, be impertinent in me, though a layman,

294 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

to express upon this occasion my satisfaction, qualified as
it is by what has been said above, in finding from this
instance that our diocesan is unwilling to station clergymen
in cures with which they are locally connected. Some
years ago, when the present Bishop of London, then of
Chester, was residing in -this neighbourhood, I took the
liberty of strenuously recommending to him not to ordain
young men to curacies where they had been brought up,
or in the midst of their own relatives. I had seen too
much of the mischief of this, especially as affecting the
functions and characters of ministers born and bred up in
the lower classes of society. It has been painful to me
to observe the false position, as the French would call it,
in which men so placed are. Their habits, their manners,
and their talk, their acquaintanceships, their friendships,
and, let me say, their domestic affections, naturally and
properly draw them one way, while their professional
obligations point out another ; and, accordingly, if they
are sensible of both, they live in a perpetual conflict, and
are liable to be taxed with pride and ingratitude, as
seeming to neglect their old friends, when they only
associate with them with that reserve, and under those
restraints, which their sacred profession enjoins. If, on
the other hand, they fall into unrestrained familiarity with
the associates of their earlier life and boyish days, how
injurious to their ministry such intercourse would be, must
flash upon every man's mind whose thoughts have turned
for a moment to the subject. Allow me to add a word
upon the all-important matter of testimonials. The case

of the Rector of and of presses it closely upon

my mind. Had the individuals who signed those docu-
ments been fitly impressed with the awfulness of the act
they were about to engage in, they could not have under-
taken it. ... Would it not be a good plan for

1833-1837. 295

bishops to exclude testimonials from relatives and near
connections ? It is painful to notice what a tendency
there is in men's minds to allow even a slight call of
private regard to outweigh a very strong claim of duty
to the public, and riot less in sacred concerns than in
civil. •

4 Your hands, rny dear friend, have failed, as well as
my eyes, so that we are neither of us in very flourishing
trim for active correspondence : be assured, however, I
participate the feelings you express. Last year has
robbed me of Coleridge, of Charles Lamb,* James Losh,
Rudd, of Trinity, Fleming, just gone, and other school-
fellows and contemporaries. 1 cannot forget that Shak-
speare, who scarcely survived fifty (I am now near the
close of my sixty-fifth year), wrote,

" In me that time of life thou dost behold,
When yellow leaves, or few, or none, do hang
Upon the bough."

* How much more reason have we to break out into
such a strain ! Let me hear from you from time to time ;
I shall feel a lively interest in all that concerns you. I
remain faithfully yours,

« W. W.'

To the Rev. Robert Montgomery.

'Feb. 1835.
4 My dear Sir,

* On my return home, after an absence of some length,
I have had the pleasure of receiving your two volumes.

* [ ' Lamb, the frolic and the gentle

Has vanished from his lonely hearth.' — Vol. v. p. 146.

See also the poem, composed in this year, entitled ' Written after
the Death of Charles Lamb ' ; and beginning, ' To a good Man of
most dear memory.' Vol. v. p. 141. — H. R.]

296 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

4 With your " Omnipresence of the Deity " * I was ac-
quainted long ago, having read it and other parts of your
writings with much pleasure, though with some abate-
ment, such as you yourself seem sufficiently aware of,
and which, in the works of so young a writer, were by
me gently judged, and in many instances regarded, though
in themselves faults, as indications of future excellence.
In your letter, for which also I thank you, you allude to
your Preface, and desire to know if my opinion concurs
with yours on the subject of sacred poetry. That Preface
has been read to me, and I can answer in the affirmative ;
but at the same time allow me frankly to tell you that
what most pleased me in that able composition is to be
found in the few concluding paragraphs, beginning " It is
now seven years since," &c.

' I cannot conclude without one word of literary advice,
which I hope you will deem my advanced age entitles me
to give. Do not, my dear Sir, be anxious about any indi-
vidual's opinion concerning your writings, however highly
you may think of his genius or rate his judgment. Be a
severe critic to yourself; and depend upon it no person's
decision upon the merit of your works will bear compari-
son in point of value with your own. You must be con-
scious from what feeling they have flowed, and how far
they may or may not be allowed to claim, on that account,
permanent respect ; and, above all, I would remind you,
with a view to tranquillize and steady your mind, that no

1 Mr. Montgomery informs me that ' this poem, when forwarded
to Mr. Wordsworth, was not in the condition in which it is now,
but that it has been almost rewritten, and was also his earliest
poem — composed when he was nineteen.'

1833-1837. 297

man takes the trouble of surveying and pondering another's
writings with a hundredth part of the care which an author
of sense and genius will have bestowed upon his own.
Add to this reflection another, which I press upon you, as
it has supported me through life, viz., that Posterity will
settle all accounts justly, and that works which deserve to
last will last ; and if undeserving this fate, the sooner
they perish the better.

1 Believe me to be faithfully,

* Your much obliged,

' W. WORDSWORTH.'

In the year 1836 Mr. Wordsworth took an active part
in an endeavour to build a new church in his native town
of Cockermouth. The late -Earl of Lonsdale offered to
endow this proposed church with 150Z. per annum, and
authorized Mr. Wordsworth to communicate his benevo-
lent offer to those who were interested in the undertaking.
Some progress was made towards raising the requisite
sum for the fabric. The following letter was addressed
by him to an able and zealous promoter of the design,
who wrote to Mr. Wordsworth on the subject of the pa-
tronage of the incumbency.

To James Stanger, Esq.

4 My dear Sir,

'The obstacle arising out of conflicting opinions in
regard to the patronage, one must be prepared for in
every project of this kind. Mutual giving-way is indis-
pensable, and 1 hope it will not ultimately be wanting in
this case.

4 The point immediately to be attended to is the raising

298 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

a sufficient sum to insure from the Church Building So-
cieties a portion of the surplus fund which they have at
command, and which I know, on account of claims from
many places, they are anxious to apply as speedily as
possible. If time be lost, that sum will be lost to Cocker-
mouth.

' In the question of the patronage as between the bishop
and the people, I entirely concur with you in preference
of the former. Such is now the force of public opinion,
that bishops are not likely to present upon merely selfish
considerations ; and if the judgment of one be not good,
that of his successor may make amends, and probably
will. But elections of this sort, when vested in the inhab-
itants, have, as far as my experience goes, given rise to
so many cabals and manoeuvres, and caused such enmi-
ties and heart-burnings, that Christian charity has been
driven out of sight by them : and how often, and how
soon, have the successful party been seen to repent of
their own choice !

4 The course of public affairs being what it is in respect
to the Church, I cannot reconcile myself to delay from a
hope of succeeding at another time. If we can get a
new church erected at Cockermouth, great will be the
benefit, with the blessing of God, to that place ; and our
success cannot, I trust, but excite some neighbouring
places to follow the example.

4 The little that I can do in my own sphere shall be
attempted immediately, with especial view to insure the
co-operation of the societies. Happy should I be if you
and other gentlemen would immediately concur in this
endeavour.

4 1 remain, &c.

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

1833 - 1837. 299

'Rydal Mount, Jan. 1836.
4 My dear C ,

1 Now let me tell you, but more for your father's sake
than yours, that in a letter which I received from Lord
Lonsdale yesterday he generously proposes to endow a
new church at Cockermouth with 150Z. per annum. From
a conversation with him in the autumn, I expected he
would do as much, though he did not then permit me, as
he has done now, to mention it publicly.'

The year 1836 was saddened by the death of one who
had long been a cherished inmate of Mr. Wordsworth's
house — his wife's sister, Miss Sarah Hutchinson, a person
of cultivated mind, sound judgment, refined taste, tender
affections, firm religious principle, and fervent piety.

To her the Poet addressed the lines,

' Excuse is needless when with love sincere
Of occupation, not by fashion led,
Thou turn'st the wheel that slept with dust o'erspread ;
My nerves from no such i. urmur shrink, — tho' near,
Soft as the Dorhawk's to a distant ear,
When twilight shades darken the mountain's head.
Even She who toils to spin our vital thread
Might smile on work, 0 Lady, once so' dear
To household virtues.' l

A short and pathetic poem from her pen is inserted in
his works ;2 and after her death he gave her name, and
that of her sister, to two neighbouring heights near his
own residence.3

1 Vol. ii. p. 270. 2 To a Redbreast, Vol. v. p. 19.

s Vol. ii. p. 12.

300 DOMESTIC HISTORY.

1 I, a witness

And frequent sharer of their calm delight
With thankful heart, to either Eminence
Gave the baptismal name each Sister bore.
Now are they parted, far as Death's cold hand
Hath power to part the Spirits of those who love
As they did love. Ye kindred Pinnacles —
That, while the generations of mankind
Follow each other to their hiding-place
In time's abyss, are privileged to endure
Beautiful in yourselves, and richly graced
With like command of beauty — grant your aid
For MARY'S humble, SARAH'S silent, claim,
That their pure joy in nature may survive
From age to age in blended memory.'

A stone in Grasmere churchyard, inscribed to her mem-
ory, records the feelings of love with which she was re-
garded, and expresses a wish which has now in part been
fulfilled.

' Near the graves of two young children,
Removed from a family to which through life she was devoted,

Here lies the body

of

SARAH HUTCHINSON,

The beloved Sister and faithful Friend

Of Mourners, who have caused this Stone to be erected,

With an earnest wish that their own Remains

May be laid by her side, and a humble hope,

That, through CHRIST, they may together

Be made Partakers of the same Blessed Resurrection.

She was born at Penrith, 1st Jan. 1775 ;

And died at Rydal, 23d June, 1836.'

CHAPTER LI.

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

AMONG the communications in reference to Mr. Words-
worth, with which the author of these Memoirs has been
favoured, the following has been received from a person
of extensive learning, hereditary ability, and literary
attainments, that shed a lustre on the judicial station which
he fills with so much benefit to the public.

These Reminiscences being intended as private memo-
randa, were noted down in a familiar style.

The Hon. Mr. JUSTICE COLERIDGE * thus writes :

* [It is agreeable to remember here that the writer of these
thoughtful reminiscences, — who, by his judicial character, has
added a new distinction to the Coleridge name, — was in former
years that successor of Mr. Gifford in the Editorship of the Quar-
terly Review, of whom Southey, writing to his American friend
Mr. Ticknor, said, ' * * Gifford has finally given up the Quar-
terly Review, and after the forthcoming number, it will be under
John Coleridge's management. This is a matter which I have
had very much at heart, that there might be an end of that mis-
chievous language concerning your country. I opposed it always
with all my might. * * * You may be assured that it has occa-
sioned almost as much disgust here as in America. So far is it
from being the language or the wish of the government, that one
of the cabinet ministers complained of it to me as most mischiev-
ous, and most opposite to the course which they were desirous of
pursuing. There is an end of it now, and henceforth that journal
will do all in its power towards establishing that feeling which

302 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

4 In the summer of 1836, 1 went on the Northern Circuit
with Baron Parke. We took Bowness and Storrs, in our
way from Appleby to Lancaster; and I visited Words-
worth, and my dear friend Arnold, from Storrs. It was
my fortune to have to try the great Hornby Castle cause,
as it was called : this I did at the end of the circuit,
returning from Liverpool to Lancaster for the purpose.
Arnold was kind enough to lend me his house (Foxhow*)
for the vacation ; and when the circuit ended, my wife and
children accompanied me to it, and we remained there six
weeks. During that time Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth were
our only neighbours, and we scarcely saw any one besides ;

ought to exist between the two nations.' Letter to George Tick-
nor, Esq., Dec. 30, 1824. ' Life and Correspondence ' of Southey,
Vol. v. Ch. xxvm. p. 194.

The reader of the Life of Dr. Arnold will not have forgotten
the valuable reminiscences, which Mr. Justice Coleridge, in like
manner, contributed to that biography. Some reminiscences of
his uncle, S. T. Coleridge, were also given in Vol. n.% of the
1 Table-Talk ' j in which volume also appeared, simply with the
signature ' J. T. C.' his fine metrical version of a choric ode in
the 'Hecuba.' — H. R.]

* [See Stanley's Life of Arnold — the letters passim — for ex-
pressions of the increased interest which near neighbourhood to
"Wordsworth, and intercourse with him gave Dr. Arnold in his
holiday-home, 'Foxhow' : — 'I could still rave about Rydal,' he
writes in 1832, — ' it was a period of five weeks of almost awful
happiness, absolutely without a cloud. * * Our intercourse with
the Wordsworths was one of the brightest spots of all, nothing
could exceed their friendliness — and my almost daily walks with
him were things not to be forgotten.' Again, in 1833, ' The
Wordsworths' friendship, for so I may call it, is certainly one of
the greatest delights of Foxhow.' And in 1841, about a twelve-
month before his death, after speaking of Southey, he adds,
' Wordsworth is in body and mind still sound and vigorous j it is
beautiful to see and hear him.' — H. R.]

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 303

but we needed no other addition to the lovely and loveable
country in which we were. He was extremely kind, both
in telling us where to go, and very often going with us.
He was engaged in correcting the press for a new edition
of his poems. The London post, I think, went out at two
p. M., and then, he would say, he was at our service. A
walk with him in that country was a real treat : I never
met with a man who seemed to know a country and the
people so well, or to love them better, nor one who had
such exquisite taste for rural scenery : he had evidently
cultivated it with great care ; he not only admired the
beauties, but he could tell you what were the peculiar fea-
tures in each scene, or what the incidents to which it owed
its peculiar charm V He combined, beyond any man with
whom I ever met, the unsophisticated poetic delight in the
beauties of nature with a somewhat artistic skill in devel-
oping the sources and conditions of then)/ In examining
the parts of a landscape he would be minute ; and he
dealt with shrubs, flower-beds, and lawns with the readi-
ness of a practised landscape-gardeneiy His own little
grounds afforded a beautiful specimen/of his skill in this
latter respect ; and it was curious to see how he had im-
parted the same faculty in some measure to his gardener
— James Dixon, I think, was his name. I found them
together one morning in the little lawn by the mount.
" James and I," said he, " are in a puzzle here. The
grass here has spots which offend the eye ; and I told him
we must cover them with soap-lees. * That,' he says,
4 will make the green there darker than, the rest.' ' Then,'
I said, ' we must cover the whole.' He objected : ' That
will not do with reference to the little lawn to which you
pass from this.' 4 Cover that,' I said. To which he re-
plies, 4 You will have an unpleasant contrast with the
foliage surrounding it.' "

304 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

' Beside this warm feeling and exquisite taste, which
made him so delightful a guided, his favourite spots had a
human interest engrafted on them, — some tradition, some
incident, some connection with his own poetry, or himself,
or some dear frienp. These he brought out in a striking
way. Apart from these, he was well pleased to discourse
on poetry or poets ; and here appeared to me to be his
principal scholarship. He was extremely well read in
English poetry ; and he would in his walk review a poem
or a poet with admirable precision and fairness. He did
not intrude his own poetry or himself, but he did not
decline to talk about either ; and he spoke of both simply,
unboastingly, and yet with a manly consciousness of their
worth. It was clear he thought he had achieved a high
place among poets : it had been the aim of his life,
humanly speaking ; and he had taken worthy pains to
accomplish and prepare himself for the enterprise. He
never would sacrifice anything he thought right on reflec-
tion, merely to secure present popularity, or avert criticism
which he thought unfounded ; but/fie was a severe critic
on himself, and would not leave a line or an expression
with which he was dissatisfied until he had brought it to
what he liked./ He thought this due to the gift of poetry
and the character of the poet. Carelessness in the finish
of composition he seemed to look on almost as an offence.
I remember well, that after speaking with love and delight
of a very popular volume of poetry, he yet found great
fault with the want of correctness and finish. Reciting
one of the poems, and pointing out inaccuracies in it, he
said, " I like the volume so much, that, if I was the author,
I think I should never rest till I had nearly rewritten it."
No doubt he carried this in his own case to excess, when
he corrected so largely, in the decline of life, poems writ-
ten in early manhood, under a state of feelings and powers

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 305

which it was impossible to reproduce, and yet which was
necessary, generally speaking, for successful alteration. I
cannot but agree with many who think that on this account
the earlier copies of his poems are more valuable than the
later.'

4 1836. September. Wednesday 21. — Wordsworth and
I started in my carriage for Lowther, crossed Kirkstone
to Paterdale, by Ullswater, going through the Glenridding
Walks,1 and calling at Hallsteads. We reached the castle
time enough before dinner, for him to give me a walk.

' After luncheon, on Thursday 2'-2d, we had an open
carriage, and proceeded to Haweswater. It is a fine lake,
entirely unspoiled by bad taste. On one side the bank
rises high and steep, and is well clothed with wood ; on
the other it is bare and more sloping. Wordsworth con-
veyed a personal interest in it to me, by telling me that it
was the first lake which my uncle2 had seen on his com-
ing into this country : he was in company with Words-
worth and his brother John. Wordsworth pointed out to

1 I remember well, asking him if we were not trespassing on
private pleasure grounds here. He said, no ; the walks had,
indeed, been enclosed, but he remembered them open to the pub-
lic, and he always went through them when he chose. At Low-
ther, we found among the visitors, the late Lord W ; and

describing our walk, he made the same observation, that we had
been trespassing ; but Wordsworth maintained his point with
somewhat more warmth than I either liked, or could well account
for. But afterwards, when we were alone, he told me he had

purposely answered Lord W stoutly and warmly, because

he had done a similar thing with regard to some grounds in the
neighbourhood of Penrith, and excluded the people of Penrith
from walking where they had always enjoyed the right before.
He had evidently a pleasure in vindicating these rights, and
seemed to think it a duty. — /. T. C.

2 See above, Vol. I. p. 149, 150.
VOL. n. 20

306 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

me somewhere about the spot on the hill-side, a little out
of the track, from which they first saw the lake ; and said,
he well remembered how his face brightened, and how
much delight he appeared to feel. Yesterday morning we
returned to this place. We called on our way and took
our luncheon at Hallsteads, and also called at Paterdale
Hall. At both it was gratifying to see the cordial manner
of W.'s reception : he seemed loved and honoured ; and
his manner was of easy, hearty, kindness to them.

' My tour with him was very agreeable, and I wish I
could preserve in my memory more of his conversation
than I shall be able to do. I was anxious to get from him
anecdotes of himself and my uncle, and of their works.
He told me of himself, that his first verses were a Popian
copy, written at school, on the " Pleasure of Change ; "
then he wrote another on the " Second Centenary of the
School's Foundation ; " that he had written these verses
on the holidays, and on the return to school ; that he was
rather the poet of the school. The first verses from
which he remembered to have received great pleasure,
were Miss Carter's " Poem on Spring," a poem in the six-
line stanza, which he was particularly fond of, and had
composed much in, for example, " Ruth. "/He said there
was some foundation in fact, however slight, for every
poem he had written of a narrative kind ; so slight indeed,
sometimes, as hardly to deserve the name ; for example,
" The Somnambulist" was wholly built on the fact of a
girl at LyulpT^s Tower, being a sleep-walker ; and " The
Water Lily," on a ship bearing that name. " Michael "
was founded on the son of an old couple having "Become
dissolute, and run away from his parents ; and on an old
shepherd having been seven years in building up a sheep-
fold in a solitary valley : " The JBrothers," on a young
shepherd, in his sleep, having fallen down a crag, his staff

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 307

remaining suspended midway. Many incidents he seemed
to have drawn from the narration of Mrs. Wordsworth, or
his sister, " Ellen," for example, in " Tn"e Excjursion ; "
ancTthey must have told their stories well, for he said his
/ principle had been to give the oral part as nearly as he
could in the very words of the speakers, where he narrated
a real story, dropping, of course, all vulgarisms or provin-
cialisms, and borrowing sometimes a Bible turn of expres-
sion/^these former were mere accidents, not essential to
the truths in representing how the human heart and pas-
sions worked ; and to give these last faithfully, was his
object. ,Af he was to have any name hereafter, his hope
was on this, and he did think he had in some instances
succeeded ; l that the sale of his poems increased among
the classes below the middle ; and he had had, constantly,
statements made to him of the effect produced in reading
" Michael," and other such of his poems. I added my
testimony of being unable to read it aloud, without inter-
ruption from my own feelings. " She was a phantom of
delight," he said was written on " his dear wife," of whom
he spoke in the sweetest manner ; a manner full of the
warmest love and admiration, yet with delicacy and re-
serve. He very much and repeatedly regretted that my

1 You could not walk with him a mile without seeing what a
loving interest he took in the play and working of simple natures.
As you ascend Kirkstone from Paterdale, you have a bright stream
leaping down from rock to rock, on your right, with here and
there silent pools. One of Wordsworth's poor neighbours worked
all the week over Kirkstone, I think in some "mines ; and return-
ing on Saturday evenings, used to fish up this little stream. We
met him with a string of small trout. W. offered to bay them,
and bid him take them to the Mount. ' Nay,' said the man, ' I
cannot sell them, Sir ; the little children at home look for them
for supper, and I can't disappoint them.' It was quite pleasant
to see how the man's answer delighted the Poet. — /. T. C.

308 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

uncle had written so little verse ; he thought him so emi-
nently qualified, by his very nice ear, his great skill in
metre, and his wonderful power and happiness of expres-
sion. He attributed, in part, his writing so little, to the
extreme care and labour which he applied in elaborating
his metres. He said, that when he was intent on a new
experiment in metre, the time and labour he bestowed were
inconceivable ; that he was quite an epicure in sound.
Latterly he thought he had so much acquired the habit of
analyzing his feelings, and making them matter for a theory
or argument, that he had rather dimmed his delight in the
beauties of nature, and injured his poetical powers. He
said he had no idea how " Christabelle " was to have
been finished, and he did not think my uncle had ever
conceived, in his own mind, any definite plan for it; that
the poem had been composed while they were in habits of
daily intercourse, and almost in his presence, and when
there was the most unreserved intercourse between them
as to all their literary projects and productions, and he had
never heard from him any plan for finishing it. Not that
he doubted my uncle's sincerity in his subsequent asser-
tions to the contrary : because, he said, schemes of this
sort passed rapidly and vividly through his mind, and so
impressed him, that he often fancied he had arranged
things, which really, and upon trial, proved to be mere
embryos. I omitted to ask him, what seems obvious
enough now, whether, in conversing about it, he had never
asked my uncle how it would end. The answer would
have settled the question. He regretted that the story had
not been made to end the same night in which it begun.
There was difficulty and danger in bringing such a person-
age as the witch to the daylight, and the breakfast-table ;
and unless the poem was to have been long enough to give
time for creating a second interest, there was a great prob-

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. c09

ability of the conclusion being flat after such a commence-
ment.

' A great number of my uncle's sonnets, he said, were
written from the " Cat and Salutation," or a public house
with some such name, in Smithfield, where my uncle im-
prisoned himself for some time ; and they appeared in a
newspaper, I think he said the " Morning Chronicle."

1 He remembered his writing a great part of the trans-
lation of " Wallenstein," and he said there was nothing
more astonishing than the ease and rapidity with which it
was done.

4 Sept. 29, Foxhow. — We are just setting out, in a
promising day, for a second trip to Kesvvick, intending, if
possible, to penetrate into Wastdale, over the Sty Head.
Before I go, I wish to commemorate a walk with the Poet,
on a drizzly muddy day, the turf sponging out water at
every step, through which he stalked as regardless as if
he were of iron, and with the same fearless, unchanged
pace over rough and smooth, slippery and sound. We went
up by the old road1 from Ambleside to Keswick, and
struck off from the table-land on the left, over the fell
ground, till he brought me out on a crag bounded, as it
were, by two ascents, and showing me in front, as in a
frame, Grasmere Lake, " the one green island," the

1 This old road was very steep, after the fashion of former days,
crossing the hill straight over its highest point. A new cut had
been made, somewhat diminishing the steepness, but still leaving
it a very inconvenient and difficult ascent. At length another
alteration was made, and the road was carried on a level round
the foot of the hill. My friend Arnold pointed these out to me,
and, quizzing my politics, said, the first denoted the old Tory
corruption, the second bit by bit, the third Radical Reform. —
/. T. C.

310 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

church, village, &c., and the surrounding mountains. It
is a lovely scene, strikingly described in his verses begin-
ning,

"When to the attractions of the busy world,
Preferring studious leisure," &c. l

4 Oct. 7th. — Yesterday Wordsworth drove me to Low-
wovel ; and then we ascended a great way towards Kirk-
stone by Troutbeck, passing by many interesting cots,
barns, and farm-houses, where W. had constantly some-
thing to point out in the architecture, or the fringes of
moss, fern, &LC. on the roofs or walls. We crossed the
valley, and descended on Troutbeck Church, whence we
came down to the turnpike road, and I left the Poet, who
was going on to assist Sir T. Pasley in laying out his
grounds. I turned homeward, till I met my horse.

4 As we walked, I was admiring the never-ceasing
sound of water, so remarkable in this country. " I was

walking,'1 he said, " on the mountains, with , the

Eastern traveller ; it was after rain, and the torrents were
full. I said, 4I hope you like your companions — these
bounding, joyous, foaming streams.' ' No,' said the
traveller, pompously, 'I think they are not to be compared
in delightful effect with the silent solitude of the Arabian
Desert.' My mountain blood was up. I quickly observed
that he had boots and a stout great-coat on, and said, ' I
am sorry you don't like this ; perhaps I can show you
what will please you more.' I strode away, and led him
from crag to crag, hill to vale, and vale to hill, for about
six hours ; till I thought I should have had to bring him
home, he was so tired."

1 See Poems on the naming of Places, vol. iii. p. 9.

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 311

4 October IQth. — I have passed a great many hours to-
day with Wordsworth, in his house. I stumbled on him
with proof-sheets before him. He read me nearly all the
sweet stanzas written in his copy of the " Castle of In-
dolence," l describing himself and my uncle ; and he and
Mrs. VV. both assured me the description of the latter at
that time was perfectly accurate ; that he was almost as a
great boy in feelings, and had all the tricks and fancies
there described. Mrs. W. seemed to look back on him,
and those times, with the fondest affection. Then he read
me some lines, which formed part of a suppressed portion
of " The Waggoner ; " but which he is now printing
" on the Rock of Names," so called because on it they
had carved out their initials :

W. W. Wm. Wordsworth.

M. H. Mary W.

D. W. Dorothy Wordsworth.

S. T. C. Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

J. W. John Wordsworth.

S. H. Sarah Hutchinson.*

1 Poems founded on the Affections, Vol. i. p. 211.

* [RocK OF NAMES!

Light is the strain, but not unjust

To Thee, and thy memorial-trust'

That once seemed only to express

Love that was love in idleness ;

Tokens, as year hath followed year,

How changed, alas in character !

For they were graven on thy smooth breast

By hands of those my soul loved best ;

Meek women, men as true and brave

As ever went to a hopeful grave :

Their hands and mine, when side by side

With kindred zeal and mutual pride,

312 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

1 This rock was about a mile beyond Wythburn Chapel,
to which they used to accompany my uncle, in going to
Keswick from Grasmere, and where they would meet him
when he returned. This led him to read much of " The
Waggoner " to me. It seems a very favourite poem of
his, and he read me splendid descriptions from it. He
said his object in it had not been understood. It was a
play of the fancy on a domestic incident and lowly char-
acter : he wished by the opening descriptive lines to put
his reader into the state of mind in which he wished it to
be read./lf he failed in doing that, he wished him to lay it
down. He pointed out, with the same view, the glowing
lines on the state of exultation in which Ben and his com-
panions are under the influence of liquor. Then he read
the sickening languor of the morning walk, contrasted
with the glorious uprising of Nature, and the songs of
the birds. Here he has added about six most exquisite
lines.*

4 We walked out on the turf terrace, on the Loughrigg
side of Rydal Water. Most exquisitely did the lake and

We worked until the Initials took
Shapes that defied a scornful look. —
Long as for us a genial feeling
Survives, or one in need of healing,
The power, dear Rock, around thee cast,
Thy monumental power, shall last
For me and mine ! 0 thought of pain,
That would impair it or profane !
Take all in kindness then, as said
With a staid heart but playful head ;
And fail not Thou, loved Rock ! to keep
Thy charge when we are laid asleep.'

Vol. ii. p. 323. — H. R.J
* [See on this poem note at the end of this chapter. — H. R.]

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 313

opposite bank look. Thence he led me home under
Loughrigg, through lovely spots I had never seen before.
His conversation was on critical subjects, arising out of
his attempts to alter his poems. He said he considered
" The White Doe " as, in conception, the highest work he
had ever produced/ The mere physical action was all
unsuccessful ; but the true action of the poem was spir-
itual — the subduing of the will, and all inferior passions,
to the perfect purifying and spiritualizing of the intel-
lectual nature ; while the Doe, by connection with Emily,
is raised as it were from its mere animal nature into some-
thing mysterious and saint-like. He said he should devote
much labour to perfecting the execution of it in the mere
business parts, in which, from anxiety " to get on " with
the more important parts, he was sensible that imperfec-
tions had crept in, which gave the style a feebleness of
character/

' He talked of Milton, and observed how he sometimes
indulged himself, in the " Paradise Lost," in lines which,
if not in time, you could hardly call verse, instancing,

" And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old j "

and then noticing the sweet-flowing lines which followed,
and with regard to which he had no doubt the unmusical
line before had been inserted.

1 " Paradise Regained " he thought the most perfect in
execution of anything written by Milton ; that and the
" Merchant of Venice," in language, he thought were
almost faultless : with the exception of some little strain-
ing in some of the speeches about the caskets, he said,
they were perfect, the genuine English expressions of the
ideas of their own great minds. Thomson he spoke of
as a real poet, though it appeared less in his " Seasons "

314 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

than in his other poems. He had wanted some judicious
adviser to correct his taste ; but every person he had to
deal with only served to injure it. He had, however, a
true love and feeling for nature, and a greater share of
poetical imagination, as distinguished from dramatic, than
any man between Milton and him. As he stood looking
at Ambleside, seen across the valley, embosomed in wood,
and separated from us at sufficient distance, he quoted
from Thomson's " Hymn on Solitude," and suggested the
addition, or rather insertion, of a line at the close, where
he speaks of glancing at London from Norwood. The
line, he said, should have given something of a more
favourable impression :

" Ambition 1 and pleasure vain."

1 October ]4th, Foxhow. — We have had a delightful
day to-day. The weather being fine, Wordsworth agreed
to go with us into Easedale ; so we got three ponies, for
Mary and Madge, and Fred and Alley, alternately, and
walked from Grasmere, he trudging2 before, with his
green gauze shade over his eyes, and in his plaid jacket
and waistcoat. First, he turned aside at a little farm-
house, and took us into a swelling field, to look down on
the tumbling stream which bounded it, and which we saw
precipitated at a distance, in a broad white sheet, from the
mountain. A beautiful water-break of the same stream
was before us at our feet, and he noticed the connection
which it formed in the landscape with the distant water-
fall. Then, as he mused for an instant, he said, " I have
often thought what a solemn thing it would be, if we could

1 I cannot fill the blank. —/. T. C.

2 I used the word trudging at the time ; it denoted to me his
bold way of walking. — /. T. C.

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 315

have brought to our mind, at once, all the scenes of dis-
tress and misery, which any spot, however beautiful and
calm before us, has been witness to since the beginning.
That water-break, with the glassy, quiet pool beneath it,
that looks so lovely, and presents no images to the mind
but of peace, — there, I remember, the only son of his
father, a poor man, who lived yonder, was drowned. He
missed him, came to search, and saw his body dead in the
pool.1" We pursued our way up the stream, not a very-
easy way for the horses, near to the water-fall before men-
tioned, and so gradually up to the Tarn. Oh, what a scene !
The day one of the softest and brightest in autumn ; the
lights various ; the mountains in the richest colouring, fern
covering them with reddish gold in great part ; here and
there, trees in every variety of autumn foliage ; and the
rock itself of a kind of lilac tint ; the outlines of the
mountains very fine ; the Tarn, which might almost be
called a lake for size and abundance of water, with no
culture, or trees, or habitation around it, here and there a
great rock stretching into it like a promontory, and high
mountains surrounding it on three sides, on two of them
almost precipitate ; on the fourth side, it is more open, and
on this the stream, crossed by four great stepping-stones,
runs out of it, and descends into Grasmere vale and lake.
He pointed out the precipitous mountain .at the head of the
Tarn, and told us an incident of his sister and himself
coming from Langdale, which lies on the other side. He
having for some reason parted, she encountered a fog, and
was bewildered. At last, she sat down and waited ; in a
short time it began to clear ; she could see that a valley
was before her. In time, she saw the backs of cattle
feeding, which emerged from the darkness, and at last the
Tarn ; and then found she had stopped providentially, and
was sitting nearly on the edge of the precipice. Our

316 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

return was somewhat more perilous for the riders than the
ascent ; but we accomplished it safely, and, in our return,
turned into Butterlip How, a circular, soft, green hill, sur-
rounded with oak trees, at the head of the Grasmere. It
is about twenty acres, and belongs to a London banker,
purchased, as I suppose, with a view to building on it. It
is a lovely spot for a house, with delicious views of the
lake and church, Easedale, Helm Crag, &c. I have seen
no place, I think, on which I should so much like to build
my retreat.

4 October 16/A. — Since church we have taken our last
walk with Wordsworth. M. was mounted on Dora W.'s
pony. He led us up on Loughrigg, round to the Tarn,
by the back of Loughrigg to the foot of Grasmere Lake,
and so home by this side of Rydal ; the weather warm
and fine, and a lovely walk it was. The views of the
mountains, Langdale Way, the Tarn itself and its banks,
and the views on Grasmere and Rydal Waters, are almost
beyond anything I have seen, even in this country.

' He and Mrs. W. came this evening to bid us farewell.
We parted with great, I believe mutual, regret ; certainly
they have been kind to us in a way and degree which
seemed unequivocally to testify good liking to us, and then
it is impossible not to love. The more I have seen of
Wordsworth, the more I admire him as a poet and as
a man. He has the finest and most discriminating feeling
for the beauties of nature that I ever witnessed ; he ex-
presses himself in glowing and yet manly language about
them. There is much simplicity in his character, much
naivete, but it is all generous and highly moral.'

[The following criticism — worthy of the sire — from the pen of
Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, is so finely in sympathy with the Poet's
own feeling respecting ' The Waggoner,' as narrated above, and

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836. 317

so naturally connects with the valuable memorial, contributed by
her brother-in-law, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, in this chapter,
that it will not, I trust, be considered out of place here.

f Due honour is done to Peter Bell, at this time, by students of
poetry in general ; but some, even of Mr. Wordsworth's greatest
admirers, do not quite satisfy me in their admiration of The Wag-
goner, a poem which my dear uncle, Mr. Southey, preferred even,
to the former. Ich will meine De/ikungsart hierin niemanden aufdrin-
gen, as Lessing says ; I will force my way of thinking on nobody,
but take the liberty, for my own gratification, to express it. \The
sketches of hill and valley in this poem have a lightness and
spirit, — an allegro touch, — distinguishing them from the grave
and elevated splendour which characterizes Mr. Wordsworth's
representations of nature in general, and from the pensive ten-
derness of those in The White Doe, while it harmonizes well with
the human interest of the piece j indeed, it is the harmonious
sweetness of the composition which is most dwelt upon by its
special admirers. In its course it describes, with bold brief
touches, the striking mountain tract from Grasmere to Keswick ;
it commences with an evening storm among the mountains, pre-
sents a lively interior of a country-inn during midnight, and
concludes after bringing us in sight of St. John's Vale and the
Vale of Keswick seen by day-break. — " Skiddaw touched with
rosy light," and the prospect from Nathdale Fell, " hoar with the
frost-like dews of dawn : '' thus giving a beautiful and well con-
trasted panorama, produced by the most delicate and masterly
strokes of the pencil. Well may Mr. Ruskin, a fine observer and
eloquent describer of various classes of natural appearances,
speak of Mr. Wordsworth as the great poetic landscape painter
of the age. But Mr. Ruskin has found how seldom the great
landscape painters are powerful in expressing human passions
and affections on canvass, or even successful in the introduction
of human figures into their foregrounds; whereas in the poetic
paintings of Mr. Wordsworth, the landscape is always subordi-
nate to a higher interest ; certainly, in The Waggoner, the little
sketch of human nature which occupies, as it were, the front of
that_encircling background, the picture of Benjamin and his
temptations, his humble friends and the mute companions of his
way, has a character of its own, combining with sporiiveness, a
homely pathos, which must ever be delightful to some of those

318 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, 1836.

who are thoroughly conversant with the spirit of Mr. Words-
worth's poetry. It may be compared with the ale-house scene in
Tarn O'Shanter, parts of Voss's Luise, or Ovid's Baucis and Phi-
lemon ; though it differs from each of them as much as they differ
from each other. The Epilogue carries on the feeling of the
piece very beautifully.' — S. C. /

Coleridge's ' Biographia Lite/aria,' Edit, of 1847, Vol. n. p. 183,
note. — H. R.]

CHAPTER LI1.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.1

* DURING my whole life,' says Mr. Wordsworth,2 ' I had
felt a strong desire to visit Rome, and the other celebrated
cities and regions of Italy : ' but prudential considerations,
he added, delayed the execution of this wish till he was far
advanced in years. ' My excellent friend, H. C. Robin-
son,3 readily consented to accompany me, and in March,

1 Vol. Hi. p. 152-183. Published in a volume entitled ' Poems
chiefly of early and late Years.' Lond. 1842.*

a MSS. I. F.

3 I am indebted to Mr. Robinson's kindness for the communica-
tion of the following ITINERARY.

March, 1837. March.

19. By steam to Calais. 30. To Lyons.

20. Posting to Samer. 31. Through Vienne to Tain.

21. Posting to Granvilliers. April.

22. Through Beauvais to 1. Through Valence to Or-

Paris. ange.

26. To Fontainbleau. 2. To Avignon ; to Vau-

27. Through Nemours to Cosne. cluse and back.

28. To Moulins. 3 & 4. By Point du Gard to

29. To Tarare. Nismes.

* [This volume formed a seventh volume to the collective edi
tion of the Poetical Works which had been published in 1836 - 37,
in six volumes. This was the first edition which contained a por-
trait of the poet : the engraving was from the likeness painted by
Pickersgill for St. John's College, Cambridge. — H. R.]

320

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

1837, we set off from London, to which we returned in
August, earlier than my companion wished, or I should

April. May.

5 & 6. By St. Remi to Mar- 28.

seilles. 29.

7. To Toulon.

8. To Luc. 30.

9. By Frejus to Cannes.

10 & 11. To Nice. June.

12. Through Mentone to St. 6

Remo. 8.

13. Through Finale to Savo- 9.

na.

14-16. To Genoa. 11.

17. To Chiaveri. 12.

18. To Spezia.

19. By Carrara to Massa. 13.

20. To Lucca. 14.

21. To Pisa. 15.

22. To Volterra.

23. By Castiglonacco and 16.

Sienna —

24. To Radicofani. 17.

25. By Aquapendente to Vi-

terbo. 19.

26. To Rome. 20.
May. 21.

13. Excursion to Tivoli with 22.

Dr. Carlyle. 28.

17-21. Excursion to Albano, 29.

&c., &c., with Miss 30.

Mackenzie. July.

23. To Terni. 1.

24. After seeing the Falls to 2.

Spoleto.

25. To Cortona and Perugia. 3.

26. To Arezzo. 4

27. To Bibiena and Laverna. 6.

To Camaldoli.

From Muselea to Ponte

Sieve.
From Ponte Sieve to Val

Ombrosa and Florence.

& 7. To Bologna.
Parma.
Through Piacenza to

Milan.

To the Certosa and back.
To the Lake of Como and

back.

To Bergamo.
To Palazuolla and Isco.
Excursion to Riveri and

back.
To Brescia and Desin-

zano.
On Lake of Garda to

Riva.

To Verona.
Vicenza.
Padua.
Venice.
To Logerone.
To Sillian.
Spittal (in Carinthia).

Over Kazenberg to Tweng.

Through Werfen to Hal-
lein.

Excursion to Konigsee.
& 5. To Saltzburg.

To Ischl. A week's stay

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 321

myself have desired, had I been, like him, a bachelor.
These Memorials of that tour touch upon but a few of the
places and objects that interested me, and in what they
do advert to are, for the most part, much slighter than I
could wish. More particularly do I regret that there is no
notice in them of the South of France, nor of the Roman
antiquities abounding in that district, especially of the
Pont Du Gard, which, together with its situation, impressed
me full as much as any remains of Roman architecture to
be found in Italy. Then there was Vaucluse, with its
fountain, its Petrarch, its rocks of all sizes, its small plots
of lawn in their first vernal freshness, and the blossoms of
the peach and other trees, embellishing the scene on every
side. The beauty of the stream also called forcibly for
the expression of sympathy from one who from his child-
hood had studied the brooks and torrents of his native
mountains. Between two and- three hours did I run about,
climbing the steep and rugged crags from whose base the

July. July.

in the Salzkammer 23. Stuttgard.
Gut, viz. — 24. To Besigham.

8. Gmund. 25. To Heidelberg.

9. Travenfalls and back. 28. Through Worms to May-

10. Aussee. ence.

11. Excursion to lakes, then 29. To Coblenz.

to Hallstadt. 30. To Bonn.

13. Through Ischl to St. Gil- 31. Through Cologne to Aix-

gin. la-Chapelle.

14. Through Salzburg to Trau- Aug.

enstein. 1. To Louvain.

15. To Miesbach. 2. To Brussels.

16. To Tegernsee and Holz- 3. To Antwerp.

kirken. 4. To Liege.

17. To Munich. 5. Through Lille to Cassell.
21. To Augsburg. 6. Calais.

2^. To Ulm. 7. London.

VOL. II. 21

322 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

water of Vaucluse breaks forth. " Has Laura's plover,"
often said I to myself, " ever sat down upon this stone ? "
or has his foot ever " pressed this turf? " Some, especially
of the female sex, would have felt sure of it ; my answer
was (impute it to my years), " I fear not." Is it not, in
fact, obvious that many of his love verses must have
flowed, I do not say from a wish to display his own talents,
but from a habit of exercising his intellect in that way
rather than from an impulse of his heart ? It was other-
wise with his Lyrical Poems, and particularly with the one
upon the degradation of his country ; there he pours out
his reproaches, lamentations, and aspirations, like an ar-
dent and sincere patriot. But enough, it is time to turn to
my own effusions, such as they are.

1 Musings at Aquapendente, April, 1837. l (The fol-
lowing note refers to Sir VV. Scott.)

" Had his sunk eye kindled at those dear words
That spake of Bards and Minstrels."

His, Sir W. Scott's eye did, in fact, kindle at them, for
the lines, " Places forsaken now," and the two that follow,
were adopted from a poem of mine, which nearly forty
years ago was in part read to him, and he never forgot
them.

11 Old Helvellyn's brow,
Where once together in his day of strength
"We stood rejoicing." •

Sir H. Davy was with us at the time. We had ascended
from Paterdale, and 1 could not but admire the vigour with
which Scott scrambled along that horn of the mountain,
called " Striding Edge." Our progress was necessarily
slow, and beguiled by Scott's telling many stories and

1 Vol. iii. p. 154. » See above, Vol. I. p. 316^

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

amusing anecdotes, as was his custom. Sir H. Davy
would have probably been better pleased, if other topics
had been occasionally interspersed, and some discussion
entered upon ; at all events, he did not remain with us
long at the top of the mountain, but left us to find our way
down its steep side together into the vale of Grasmere,
where, at my cottage, Mrs. Scott was to meet us at dinner.

" He stood

A fen short steps, painful they were, apart
From Tasso's convent-haven and retired grave." l

This, though introduced here, I did not know, till it was
told me at Rome, by Miss Mackenzie, of Seaforth, a lady
whose friendly attentions, during my residence at Rome,
I have gratefully acknowledged with expressions of sincere
regret that she is no more. Miss M. told me that she had
accompanied Sir Walter to the Janicular Mount, and,
after showing him the grave of Tasso, in the church upon
the top, and a mural monument there erected to his
memory, they left the church, and stood together on the
brow of the hill overlooking the city of Rome. Sir Wal-
ter's daughter was with them, and she, naturally desirous,
for the sake of Miss Mackenzie especially, to have some
expression of pleasure from her father, half reproached
him for showing nothing of that kind, either by his looks
or voice. " How can I," replied he, " having only one
leg to stand upon, and that in extreme pain ? " so that the
prophecy was more than fulfilled.'

Over waves rough and deep.* — 4 We took boat near
the lighthouse, at the point of the right horn of the bay,
which makes a sort of natural port for Genoa ; but the
wind was high, and the waves long and rough, so that I

1 Vol. iii. p. 155. « Vol. iii. p. 156. View of Genoa.

324 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

did not feel quite recompensed by the view of the city,
splendid as it was, for the danger apparently incurred.
The boatman (I had only one) encouraged me, saying,
we were quite safe ; but I was not a little glad when we
gained the shore, though Shelley and Byron, one of them,
at least, who seemed to have courted agitation from every
quarter, would have probably rejoiced at such a situation.
More than once, I believe, were they both in extreme
danger, even on the Lake of Geneva. Every man, how-
ever, has his fears of one kind or other, and, no doubt,
they had theirs. Of all men whom I have ever known,
Coleridge had the most of passive courage in bodily trial,
but no one was so easily cowed when moral firmness was
required in miscellaneous conversation, or in the daily
intercourse of social life." *

How lovely — didst thou appear, Savona.1 — 'There
is not a single bay along this beautiful coast, that might
not raise in a traveller a wish to take up his abode there ;
each as it succeeds seems more inviting than the other ;
but the desolated convent on the cliff in the bay of Savona,
struck my fancy most ; and had I, for the sake of my own
health, or of that of a dear friend, or any other cause,
been desirous of a residence abroad, 1 should have let my
thoughts loose upon a scheme of turning some part of this
building into a habitation. There is close by it a row, or
avenue (I forget which), of tall cypresses. I could not

1 Vol. iii. p. 158.

* [In the words of his son-in-law and nephew, Henry Nelson
Coleridge — ' He had indeed his peculiar weaknesses as well as his
unique powers j sensibilities that an averted look would rack, a
heart which would have beaten calmly in the tremblings of an
earthquake.' Preface to the 'Table Talk of S. T. Coleridge,'
p. 70. — H. R.]

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 325

forbear saying to myself, " What a sweet family walk, or
one for lonely musings, would be found under the shade ! "
but there probably the trees remain little noticed, and
seldom enjoyed.'

This flowering Broom's dear neighbourhood.1 — c The
Broom is a great ornament through the months of March
and April, to the vales and hills of the Apennines, in the
wild part of which it blows in the utmost profusion, and
of course successively at different elevations, as the season
advances. It surpasses ours in beauty and fragrance ; 2
but, speaking from my own limited observation only, I
cannot affirm the same of several of their wild spring
flowers, the primroses in particular, which I saw not un-
frequently, but thinly scattered and languishing, as com-
pared with ours.'

1 Vol. iii. p. 163.

2 "With regard to fragrance, Mr. Wordsworth spoke from the
testimony of others : he himself had no sense of smell. The single
instance of his enjoying such a perception, which is recorded of
him in Southey's life, was, in fact, imaginary. The incident

occurred at Racedown, when he was walking with Miss H ,

who coming suddenly upon a parterre of sweet flowers, expressed
her pleasure at their fragrance, — a pleasure which he caught
from her lips, and then fancied to be his own.*

* [' Wordsworth has no sense of smell. Once, and once only
in his life, the dormant power was awakened ; it was by a bed of
stocks in full bloom, at a house which he inhabited in Dorsetshire,
some five and twenty years ago j and he says it was like a vision
of Paradise to him: but it lasted only a few- minutes, and the
faculty has continued torpid from that time. The fact is remark-
able in itself, and would be worthy of notice, even if it did not
relate to a man of whom posterity will desire to know all that can
be remembered. He has often expressed to me his regret for this
privation.' Southey's ' Life and Correspondence,' Vol. i. Chap. ix.
p. 63. — H. R.]

326 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

SONNETS.

The Pine Tree of Monte Mario,1 rescued by Sir G.
Beaumont, from destruction.2 — 'Sir G. Beaumont told
me that when he first visited Italy, pine trees of this spe-
cies abounded ; but that on his return thither, which was
more than thirty years after, they had disappeared from
many places where he had been accustomed to admire
them, and had become rare all over the country, especially
in and about Rome. Several Roman villas have, within
these few years, passed into hands of foreigners, who, I
observed with pleasure, have taken care to plant this tree,
which, in course of years, will become a great ornament
to the city and to the general landscape.'

Is this, ye gods.3 — ' Sight is at first a sad enemy to
imagination, and to those pleasures belonging to old times
with which some exertions of that power will always
mingle. Nothing perhaps brings this truth home to the
feelings more than the city of Rome, not so much in
respect to the impression made at the moment when it is
first seen and looked at as a whole, for then the imagina-
tion may be invigorated, and the mind's eye quickened, to
perceive as much as that of the imagination ; but when
particular spots or objects are sought out, disappointment
is, I believe, invariably felt. Ability to recover from this

1 Vol. iii. p. 162.

2 ' "Within a couple of hours of my arrival at Rome I saw from
Monte Pincio the pine tree as described in this Sonnet ; and while
expressing admiration at the beauty of its appearance, I was told
that a price had been paid for it by the late Sir G. Beaumont,
upon condition that the proprietor would not act upon his known
intention of cutting it down.' Printed note, Vol. iii. p. 249.

3 Vol. iii. p. 163.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 327

disappointment will exist in proportion to knowledge, and
the power of the mind to reconstruct out of fragments and
parts, and to make details in the present subservient to
more adequate comprehension of the past.'

At Rome. ' They who have seen the noble Roman's
scorn.''1 — 4I have a private interest in this sonnet, for I
doubt whether it would ever have been written, but for

the lively picture given me by Anna R of what they

had witnessed of the indignation and sorrow expressed
by some Italian nobleman of their acquaintance upon the
surrender, which circumstances had obliged them to
make, of the best portions of their family mansions to
strangers.'

Cuckoo at Laverna. May 25th, 1837.2 — l Among a
thousand delightful feelings connected in my mind with
the voice of the cuckoo, there is a personal one which is
rather melancholy. I was first convinced that age had
rather dulled my hearing, by not being able to catch the
sound at the same distance as the younger companions of
my walks ; and of this failure I had proof upon the occa-
sion that suggested these verses. I did not hear the
sound till Mr. Robinson had twice or thrice directed my
attention to it.'

These verses appear to have been composed for the
most part on the spot ; but this was not the case with far
the greater part of the 4 Memorials.' Mr. Robinson has
kindly communicated some reminiscences of this tour;
and among these he records that Mr. Wordsworth trusted
so confidently to the vividness of the, impression of
objects on his mind, that he wrote nothing at the time
when they were actually present to his eye ; and that, to

1 Vol. iii. p. 166. sVoLiii. p. 169.

328 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

the best of his belief, very few indeed of these poems
were written on Italian ground.

To return to Mr. Wordsworth's own communications :
At Vallombrosa.1 — 4I must confess, though of course
I did not acknowledge it in the few lines I wrote in the
strangers' book kept at the convent, that I was somewhat
disappointed at Vallombrosa. I had expected, as the
name implies, a deep and narrow valley, overshadowed
by enclosing hills : but the spot where the convent stands
is in fact not a valley at all, but a cove or crescent open
to an extensive prospect. In the book before mentioned
I read the notice in the English language, that if any one
would ascend the steep ground above the convent, and
wander over it, he would be abundantly rewarded by
magnificent views. I had not time to act upon the recom-
mendation, and only went with my young guide to a
point, nearly on a level with the site of the convent, that
overlooks the Vale of Arno for some leagues.

/' To praise great and good men, has ever been deemed
le of the worthiest employments of poetry ; but the ob-
jects of admiration vary so much with time and circum-
stances, and the noblest of mankind have been found,
when intimately known, to be of characters so imperfect,
that no eulogist can find a subject which he will venture
upon with the animation necessary to create sympathy,
unless he confines himself to a particular act, or he takes
something of a one-sided view of the person he is disposed
to celebrate. This is a melancholy truth, and affords a
strong reason for the poetic mind being chiefly exercised
in works of fiction. The poet can then follow wherever
the spirit of admiration leads him, unchecked by such
suggestions as will be too apt to cross his way, if all that

1 Vol. iii. p. 174.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 329

he is prompted to utter, is to be tested by fact. Some-
thing in this spirit I have written in the note attached to
the Sonnet on the King of Sweden ; and many will think
that in this poem, and elsewhere, I have spoken of the
author of " Paradise Lost," in a strain of panegyric,
scarcely justifiable by the tenor of some of his opinions,
whether theological or political, and by the temper he
carried into public affairs, in which, unfortunately for his
genius, he was so much concerned.}/

Sonnet at Florence.^ ' Under ffae shadow of a stately
pile? — ' Upon what evidence the belief rests, that this
stone was a favourite seat of Dante, I do not know ; but a
man would little consult his own interest as a traveller, if
he should busy himself with doubts as to the fact. The.
readiness with which traditions of this character are re-
ceived, and the fidelity with which they are preserved
from generation to generation, are an evidence of feelings
honourable to our nature. I remember now, during one
of my rambles in the course of a college vacation, I was

pleased at being shown at , a seat near a kind of

rocky cell, at the source of the river , on which it

was said that Congreve wrote his " Old Bachelor." One
can scarcely hit on any performance less in harmony with
the scene ; but it was a local tribute paid to intellect by
those who had not troubled themselves to estimate the
moral worth of that author's comedies. And why should
they ? he was a man distinguished in his day, and the
sequestered neighbourhood in which he often resided, was
perhaps as proud of him as Florence .of. her Dante. It is
the same feeling, though proceeding from persons one
cannot bring together in this way, without offering some
apology to the shade of the great visionary.'

1 Vol. iii. p. 176.

330 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

The Baptist.1 — 'It was very hot weather during the
week we stayed at Florence ; and, having never been
there before, I went through much hard service, and I am
not, therefore, ashamed to confess, I fell asleep before this
picture, and sitting with my back towards the Venus de
Medicis. Buonaparte, in answer to one who had spoken
of his being in a sleep up to the moment when one of his
great battles was to be fought, as a proof of the calmness
of his mind, and command over anxious thoughts, said
frankly, " that he slept because, from bodily exhaustion,
he could not help it." In like manner it is noticed that
criminals, on the night previous to their execution, seldom
awake before they are called, a proof that the body is the
master of us far more than we need be willing to allow.'

Florence. '•Rapt above earth,"* and the following one.'2
1 However, at first, these two Sonnets from M. Angelo
may seem in their spirit somewhat inconsistent with each
other, I have not scrupled to place them side by side as
characteristic of their great author, and others with whom
he lived. I feel, nevertheless, a wish to know at what
periods of his life they were respectively composed. The
latter, as it expresses, was written in his advanced years,
when it was natural that the platonism that pervades the
one should give way to the Christian feeling that inspired
the other. Between both there is more than poetic affinity.'

Among the ruins of a Convent in the Apennines? —
4 The political revolutions of our time have multiplied on
the Continent objects that unavoidably call forth reflections
such as are expressed in these verses, but the ruins in
those countries are too recent to exhibit in anything like

1 Vol. iii. p. 176. The picture by Raffaelle in the Tribune at
Florence.

2 Vol. iii. p. 177, 178. 3 Vol. iii. p. 178.

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 331

an equal degree the beauty with which time and nature
have invested the remains of our convents and abbeys.
These verses, it will be observed, take up the beauty long
before it is matured, as one cannot but wish it may be
among some of the desolations of Italy, France, and
Germany.'

Sonnets after leaving Italy. } — ' I had proof in several
instances that the Carbonari, if I may still call them so,
and their favourers, are opening their eyes to the neces-
sity of patience, and are intent upon spreading knowledge
actively, but quietly as they can. May they have reso-
lution to continue in this course, for it is the only one by
which they can truly benefit their country.

4 We left Italy by the way which is called the " Nuova
Strada d'Allemagna," to the east of the high passes of
the Alps, which take you at once from Italy into Switzer-
land. The road leads across several smaller heights, and
winds down different vales in succession, so that it was
only by the accidental sound of a few German words I
was aware we had quitted Italy; and hence the unwel-
come shock alluded to in the two or three last lines of the
sonnet with which this imperfect series concludes.'

Such were Mr. Wordsworth's own reminiscences of his
4 Tour in Italy.'

I have been honoured by his accomplished companion
with the following brief recollections of the same excur-
sion. They were not written for any other eye than that
of the author of these Memoirs ; but having read them,
he did not hesitate to request permission to insert them in
this volume, a favour which Mr. Robinson kindly granted.

1 Vol. iii. p. 180.

332 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

' 30 Russell Square, Oct. 18, 1850.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 feel quite ashamed, I assure you, of sending you the
Itinerary of my journey with Mr. Wordsworth, so poorly
accompanied as it must be, and the more, because Mr.
Wordsworth seems to have thought that I might be able
to make a contribution to your work worth your accept-
ance. At the same time, I am much relieved by recol-
lecting that he himself cared nothing for the connection
which a place might have with a great poet, unless an
acquaintance with it served to illustrate his works. He
made this remark in the Church of St. Onofrio at Rome,
where Tasso lies buried. The place which, on this
account, interested him more than any other on the
journey was Vauduse, while he cared nothing for Arezzo,
which claims to be the place of Petrarch's birth. Indeed,
a priest on the spot, on another visit, said, it is not certain
that he was born there, much less in the house marked
with his name. Mr. W. was not without the esprit de
corps, even before his official dignity, and- took great
interest in Savona, on account of Chiabrera, as appears
in the " Musings near Aquapendente," perhaps the most
beautiful of these Memorials of the Italian tour — "alas
too few ! " As he himself repeatedly said of the journey,
"It is too late." "I have matter for volumes," he said
once, " had I but youth to work it up." It ic remarkable
how in this admirable poem meditation predominates over
observation. It often happened that objects of universal
attraction served chiefly to bring back to his mind absent
objects dear to him. When we were on that noble spot,
the Amphitheatre at Nismes, I observed his eyes fixed in
a direction where there was the least to be seen ; and,
looking that way, I beheld two very young children at

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 333

play with flowers ; and I overheard him say to himself,
" Oh ! you darlings, I wish I could put you in my pocket
and carry you to Rydal Mount."

* It was Mr. Theed, the sculptor, who informed us of
the pine tree being the gift of Sir George Beaumont. This
incident occurred within a few minutes after our walking
up the Pincian Hill. And this was the very first observa-
tion Mr. W. made at Rome.

4 It was a remark justly made on the Memorials of the
Swiss Journey, in 1820, that Mr. W. left unnoticed the
great objects which have given rise to innumerable com-
mon-place verses, and huge piles of bad prose, and which
every body talks about, while he dwelt on impressions
peculiar to himself. As a reproach, nothing can be more
idle and unmeaning. I expected it would be so with these
latter poems, and so I found it. There are not more than
two others which bring anything to my mind.

1 The most important of these is the " Cuckoo at Laver-
na." I recollect perfectly well that I heard the cuckoo at
Laverna twice before he heard it ; and that it absolutely
fretted him .that my ear was first favoured ; and that he
exclaimed with delight, " I hear it ! I hear it ! " It was at
Laverna, too, that he led me to expect that he had found
a subject on which he would write ; and that was the love
which birds bore to St. Francis. He repeated to me a
short time afterwards a few lines, which I do not recollect
among those he has written on St. Francis in this poem.
On the journey, one night only I heard him in bed com-
posing verses, and on the following day, I offered to be his
amanuensis ; but I was not patient enough, I fear, and he
did not employ me a second time. He made inquiries for
St. Francis's biography, as if he would dub him his Leib-
heiliger (body-saint), as Goethe (saying that every one
must have one) declared St. Philip Neri to be his.

331 MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY.

* The painter monk at Camaldoli also interested him,
but he heard my account only in addition to a very poor
exhibition of professional talent ; but he would not allow
the pictures to be so very poor, as every nun ought to be
beautiful when she takes the veil.

4 1 recollect, too, the pleasure he expressed when I said
to him, u You are now sitting in Dante's chair." It faces
the south transept of the cathedral at Florence.

4 I have been often asked whether Mr. W. wrote any-
thing on the journey, and my answer has always been,
" Little or nothing." Seeds were cast into the earth, and
they took root slowly. This reminds me that I once was
privy to the conception of a sonnet, with a distinctness
which did not once occur on the longer Italian journey.
This was when I accompanied him into the Isle of Man.
We had been drinking tea with Mr. and Mrs. Cookson, and
left them when the weather was dull. Very soon after
leaving them we passed the church tower of Bala Sala.
The upper part of the tower had a sort of frieze of yellow
lichens. Mr. W. pointed it out to me, and said, " It's a
perpetual sunshine." I thought no more of it, till I read
the beautiful sonnet,

" Broken in fortune, but in mind entire ; " l

and then I exclaimed, I was present at the conception of
this sonnet, at least of the combination of thought out of
which it arose.

' I beg to subscribe myself, with sincere esteem,
' Faithfully yours,

4H. C. ROBINSON.'*

1 See above, p. 248.

* [To this Friend the Memorials of the Tour were inscribed.

' To HENRY CRABB ROBINSON.
COMPANION ! by whose buoyant spirit cheered,

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY. 335

In whose experience trusting, day by day
Treasures I gained with zeal that neither feared
The toils nor felt the crosses of the way,
These records take, and happy should I be
Were but the Gift a meet return to thee
For kindnesses that never ceased to flow,
And prompt self-sacrifice to which I owe
Far more than any heart but mine can know.

W. WORDSWORTH.
RYDAL MOUNT, Feb. 14, 1842.' Vol. in. p. 152. — H. R/|

CHAPTER LIII.

OTHER POEMS IN THE SAME VOLUME.

THE first in order, among the miscellaneous poems in the
volume containing the Italian Memorials, is that entitled
Guilt and Sorrow ; or, Incidents on Salisbury Plain ; l
which was commenced in the year 1793, soon after the
author's return from France.

This poem is followed by a sonnet, and by a small piece
entitled the Forsaken,*2 and lines beginning

'Lyre ! though suc>/ power do in thy magic live.1 3

Concerning these the Poet said : 4

Guilt and Sorrow. — ' Unwilling to be unnecessarily
particular, I have assigned this poem to the dates 1793 and
1794 ; but, in fact, much of the Female Vagrant's story
was composed at least two years before. All that relates
to her sufferings as a soldier's wife in America, and her
condition of mind during her voyage home, were faithfully
taken from the report made to me of her own case by a
friend who had been subjected to the same trials, and
affected in the same way. Mr. Coleridge, when I first
became acquainted with him, was so much impressed with
this poem, that it would have encouraged me to publish
the whole as it then stood ; but the Mariner's fate appeared

1 Vol. i. p. 40. See above, Vol. I. p. 81. * Vol. i. p. 218.

s Vol. ii. p. 110. 4 MSS. I. F.

OTHER POEMS IN THE SAME VOLUME. 337

to me so tragical, as to require a treatment more subdued,
and yet more strictly applicable in expression, than I had
at first given to it. This fault was corrected near fifty-
years afterwards, when I determined to publish the whole.
It may be worth while to remark, that though the incidents
in this attempt do only in a small degree produce each
other, and it deviates accordingly from the general rule
by which narrative pieces ought to be governed, it is not
therefore wanting in continuous hold upon the mind, or in
unity, which is effected by the identity of moral interest
that places the two personages upon the same footing in
the reader's sympathies. My ramble over many parts of
Salisbury Plain put me, as mentioned in the preface, upon
writing this poem, and left upon my mind imaginative im-
pressions the force of which I have felt to this day. From
that district I proceeded to Bath, Bristol, and so on to the
banks of the Wye ; when I took again to travelling on
foot. In remembrance of that part of my journey, which
was in 1793, I began the verses,

"Five years have passed," &c.'

The Forsaken. — 4 This was an overflow from the afflic-
tion of Margaret, and excluded as superfluous there ; but
preserved in the faint hope that it may turn to account, by
restoring a shy lover to some forsaken damsel ; my poetry
having been complained of as deficient in interests of this
sort, a charge which the next piece, beginning,

11 Lyre ! though such power do in thy magic live ! "

will scarcely tend to obviate. The natural imagery of
these verses was supplied by frequent, I might say intense,
observation of the Rydal Torrent. What an animating
contrast is the ever-changing aspect of that, and indeed of
every one of our mountain brooks, to the monotonous tone
VOL. ii. 22

338 OTHER POEMS

and unmitigated fury of such streams among the Alps as
are fed all the summer long by glaciers and melting
snows ! A traveller, observing the exquisite purity of the
great rivers, such as the Rhone at Geneva, and the Rheuss
at Lucerne, when they issue out of their respective lakes,
might fancy for a moment that some power in nature pro-
duced this beautiful change, with a view to make amends
for those Alpine sullyings which the waters exhibit near
their fountain-heads ; but, alas ! how soon does that purity
depart before the influx of tributary waters that have
flowed through cultivated plains and the crowded abodes
of men.'

' Next comes An Address to the Scholars of the

Village School of , written at Goslar1 in 1798, which

appear to have been suggested by recollections of his own
master at Hawkshead, the Rev. Wm. Taylor.

The occasion of the five following poems, viz. On the
expected Invasion, 1803; at the Grave of Burns, 1803;
On the Banks of the Nith ; * Elegiac Verses in Memory
of my Brother, John Wordsworth, 1805, has been before
detailed.

The two next refer to Sir G. Beaumont. The following
notices from the lips of their author may be added to
what has been said elsewhere with respect to them, and
those notices will be succeeded by others from the same
source.2

At Applethwaite.3 — 4 This was presented to me by

1 Vol. v. p. 124. See above, Vol. I. p. 138. 2 MSS. I. F.
s Vol. ii. p. 262. See above, Vol. I. p. 259.

* [The stanzas beginning, ' Too frail to keep the lofty vow,'
Vol. iii. p. 5. See in the next chapter (LIV.) in the letter of Dec.
23, 1839, an account of the addition, after many years, of what
is now the last stanza. — H. R.]

IN THE SAME VOLUME. 339

Sir George Beaumont with a view to the erection of a
house upon it, for the sake of being near to Coleridge,
then living, and likely to remain, at Greta Hall, near Kes-
wick. This little property, with a considerable addition
that still leaves it very small, lies tteautifully upon the
banks of a rill that gurgles down the side of Skiddaw ;
and the orchard and other parts of the grounds command
a magnificent prospect of Derwent Water, the Mountains
of Borrowdale and Newlands. Not many years ago I
gave the place to my daughter.

A Night Thought.1 — ' These verses were thrown off
extempore upon leaving Mrs. Luff's house one evening at
Fox Ghyll.'

Farewell Lines? — ' These lines were designed as a
farewell to Charles Lamb and his sister, who had retired
from the throngs of London to comparative solitude in the
village of Enfield, Herts.'

Love Lies Bleeding? — ' It has been said that the Eng-
lish, though their country has produced so many great
poets, is now the most unpoetical nation in Europe. It is
probably true, for they have more temptation to become
so than any other European/ people. Trade, commerce,
and manufactures, physical science and .mechanic arts,
out of which so much wealth has arisen, have made our
countrymen infinitely less sensible to movements of im-
agination and fancy than were our forefathers in their
simple state of society. How touching and beautiful were
in most instances the names they gave to our indigenous
flowers, or any other they were familiarly acquainted with !
Every month for many years have we been importing
plants and flowers from all quarters of the globe, many of
which are spread through our gardens, and some, perhaps,

1 Vol. iv. p. 204. 8 Vol. i. p. 291. » Vol. ii. p. 58.

340 OTHER POEMS

likely to be met with on the few commons which we have
left. Will their botanical names ever be displaced by
plain English appellations which will bring them home to
our hearts by connection with our joys and sorrows ? It
can never be, unless society treads back her steps towards
those simplicities which have been banished by the undue
influence of towns spreading and spreading in every
direction, so that city life with every generation takes
more and more the lead of rural. Among the ancients,
villages were reckoned the seats of barbarism. Refine-
ment, for the most part false, increases the desire to accu-
mulate wealth ; and while theories of political economy
are boastfully pleading for the practice, inhumanity per-
vades all our dealings in buying and selling. This sel-
fishness wars against disinterested imagination in all
directions, and, evils corning round in a circle, barbarism
spreads in eveiy quarter of our island. Oh, for the reign
of justice ! and then the humblest man among us would
have more peace and dignity in and about him than the
highest have now.'

Address to the Clouds.] — 'These verses were sug-
gested while I was walking on the foot-road between
Rydal Mount and Grasrnere. The clouds were driving
over the top of Nab-Scar across the vale ; they set my
thoughts agoing, and the rest followed almost immedi-
ately.'

Suggested by a Picture of the Bird of Paradise. 2 —
4 1 will here only, by way of comment, direct attention to
the fact, that pictures of animals and other productions of
Nature, as seen in conservatories, menageries, museums,
&c., would do little for the national mind, nay, they would
be rather injurious to it, if the imagination were excluded

1 Vol. ii. p. 206. 8 Vol. ii. p. 209.

IN THE SAME VOLUME. 341

by the presence of the object, more or less out of the
state of nature. If it were not that we learn to talk and
think of the lion and the eagle, the palm-tree, and even
the cedar from the impassioned introduction of them so
frequently in Holy Scripture, and by great poets, and
divines who write as poets, the spiritual part of our nature,
and, therefore, the higher part of it, would derive no
benefit from such intercourse with such subjects.'

Composed by the Sea-shore.1 — ' These lines were sug-
gested during my residence under my son's roof at
Moresby, on the coast near Whitehaven, at the time when
I was composing those verses among the " Evening Vol-
untaries " that have reference to the sea. It was in that
neighbourhood I first became acquainted with the ocean
and its appearances and movements. My infancy and
early childhood were passed at Cockermouth, about eight
miles from the coast ; and I well remember that mys-
terious awe with which I used to listen to anything said
about storms and shipwrecks.'

The Norman Boy? — ' The subject of this poem was
sent me by Mrs. Ogle, to whom I was personally unknown,
with a hope on her part that I might be induced to relate
the incident in verse. And I do not regret that I took the
trouble ; for not improbably the fact is illustrative of the
boy's early piety, and may concur, with my other little
pieces on children, to produce profitable reflection among
my youthful readers. This is said, however, with an ab-
solute conviction that children will derive most benefit
from books which are not unworthy the perusal of persons
of any age. I protest with my whole heart against those
productions, so abundant in the present day, in which the
doings of children are dwelt upon as if they were inca-

1 Vol. iv. p. 135. 2 Vol. i. p. 176.

342 OTHER POEMS

pable of being interested in anything else. On this sub-
ject I have dwelt at length in the Poem on the growth of
my own mind.1 '

Poor Robin.12 — 4 1 often ask myself, what will become
of Rydal Mount, after our day ? Will the old walls and
steps remain in front of the house and about the grounds,
or will they be swept away, with all the beautiful mosses
and ferns, and wild geraniums and other flowers, which
their rude construction suffered and encouraged to grow
among them ? This little wild-flower, " Poor Robin," is
here constantly courting my attention, and exciting what
may be called a domestic interest, with the varying aspects
of its stalks, and leaves, and flowers. Strangely do the
tastes of men differ, according to their employment and
habits of life. " What a nice well would that be," said a
labouring man to me one day, " if all that rubbish was
cleared off ! " The rubbish was some of the most beauti-
ful mosses, and lichens, and ferns, and other wild growths,
that could possibly be seen. Defend us from the tyranny
of trimness and neatness, showing itself in this way !
Chatterton says of freedom,

" Upon her head wild weeds were spread j "

and depend upon it if " the marvellous boy " had under-
taken to give Flora a garland, he would have preferred
what we are apt to call weeds, to garden flowers. True
taste has an eye for both. Weeds have been called flow-
ers out of place. I fear the place most people would
assign to them, is too limited. Let them come near to our
abodes, as surely they may, without impropriety or disor-
der.'

1 Prelude, p. 1 15 - 129. 2 Vol. v. p. 16.

IN THE SAME VOLUME. 343

The Cuckoo- Clock.1 — 4 Of this clock I have nothing
further to say than what the poem expresses, except that
it must be here recorded that it was a present from the
dear friend for whose sake these notes were chiefly
undertaken, and who has written them from my dicta-
tion.'

The Widow on Windermere Side? — ' The facts re-
corded in this poem, were given me, and the character of
the person described, by my highly esteemed friend, the
Rev. R. P. Graves, who has long officiated as curate at
Bowness, to the great benefit of the parish and neighbour-
hood. The individual was well known to him : she died
before these verses were composed. It is scarcely worth
while to notice that the stanzas are written in the sonnet
form, which was adopted when I thought the matter might
be included in twenty-eight lines.'

Epitaph in Langdale Churchyard? — 4 Owen Lloyd,
the subject of this epitaph, was born at Old Brathay, near
Ambleside, and was the son of Charles Lloyd and his
wife Sophia (nee Pemberton), both of Birmingham, who
came to reside in this country soon* after their marriage.
Owen was educated under Mr. Dawes, of Ambleside, Dr.
Butler, of Shrewsbury, and lastly at Trinity College,
Cambridge, where he would have been greatly distin-
guished as a scholar, but for inherited infirmities of bodily
constitution, which, from early childhood, affected his
mind. His love for the neighbourhood in which he was
born, and his sympathy with the habits and character of
the mountain yeomanry, in conjunction with irregular
spirits, that unfitted him for facing duties in situations to
which he was unaccustomed, induced him to accept the
retired curacy of Langdale. How much he was beloved

1 Vol. ii. p. 204. « Vol. i. p. 281. 3 Vol. v. p. 123.

344 OTHER POEMS

and honoured there, and with what feelings he discharged
his duty under the oppression of severe malady, is set
forth, though imperfectly, in this epitaph.'*

Sonnet. <• A Poet,' ^-c.1 — CI was impelled to write
this sonnet by the disgusting frequency with which the
word artistical, imported with other impertinencies from
the Germans, is employed by writers of the present
day. For " artistical," let them substitute "artificial,"
and the poetry written on this system, both at home
and abroad, will be, for the most part, much better char-
acterized.'

Sonnet. '•The most alluring Clouds.'1'2' — Hundreds
of times have I seen hanging about and above the Vale
of Rydal, clouds that might have given birth to this
sonnet, which was thrown off, on the impulse of the
moment, one evening when I was returning home from
the favourite walk of ours, along the Rotha, under Lough-

ngg-'

Feel for the wrongs? — 'This sonnet is recommended

to the perusal of the corn-law leaguers, the political
economists, and of aH those who consider that the evils
under which we groan, are to be removed or palliated
by measures ungoverned by moral or religious prin-
ciples.'

On a Portrait of the Duke of Wellington, by Hay don*
— 'This was composed while 1 was ascending Helvellyn,
in company with my daughter and her husband. She was

1 Vol. ii. p. 310. 2 Vol. ii. p. 310. 3 Vol. iv. p. 264.

4 Vol. ii. p. 311.

* [See among the posthumous poems of Hartley Coleridge,
1 A Schoolfellow's Tribute to the memory of the Rev. Owen
Lloyd,' and ' Epitaph on Owen Lloyd.' ' Poems of Hartley Cole-
ridge/ Vol. ii. p. 187, and p. 204. — H. R.]

IN THE SAME VOLUME. 345

on horseback, and rode to the top of the hill without dis-
mounting.' 1

To a Painter.2 — 'The picture3 which gave occasion
to this and the following sonnet, was from the pencil of
Miss M. Gillies, who resided for several weeks under our
roof at Rydal Mount.'

To a Redbreast.4 — 'Almost the only verses composed
by our lamented sister, S. H.'

Floating Island.5 — ' By my sister, who takes a plea-
sure in repeating these verses, which she composed not
long before the beginning of her illness.'

If with old love of you, dear hills.6 — c This and the
following sonnet were composed on what we call the far
terrace, at Rydal Mount, where I have murmured out
many thousands of verses.'

1 Mr. Haydon made a very spirited sketch of Mr. Wordsworth
climbing Helvellyn, and composing these lines ; and this portrait
has been very successfully engraved by Mr. Lupton.*

2 Vol. ii. p. 312, 313.

8 A portrait of Mrs. Wordsworth.

4 Vol. v. p. 19. 6 Vol. v. p. 22. 6 Vol. iii. p. 181.

* [There is also a likeness of Wordsworth painted many years
earlier by Haydon, in his large historical picture of 'Christ's
Entry into Jerusalem,' — introduced there by that species of ana-
chronism, for which the artist had the authority of the practice of
some of the great Masters. The likeness may be recognised in
the group of three figures, whose faces are made expressive of
different feelings, with which some of the spectators were looking
at the Holy One in His bodily presence — the evil spirit of con-
temptuous unbelief and hate visible in the countenance of Vol-
taire— the placid and passionless face of Newton, symbolical of
the workings of a willing and inquiring intellect — and a reveren-
tial adoration shown in the bowed head and veiled eyes of Words-
worth.

This picture is in Philadelphia. — H. R.]

346 OTHER POEMS IN THE SAME VOLUME.

At Dover. l From the Pier-head.'1 } — ' For the impres-
sions on which this sonnet turns, I am indebted to the ex-
perience of my daughter, during her residence at Dover,
with our dear friend Miss F .'

CM, what a wreck? — ' The sad condition of poor Mrs.
Southey put me upon writing this. It has afforded com-
fort to many persons whose friends have been similarly
affected.'

Intent on gathering ivool.3 — 'Suggested by a conver-
sation with Miss F., who, along with her sister, had, during
their childhood, found much delight in such gatherings for
the purpose here alluded to.'

The volume closes with ; The Borderers, a Tragedy,'
the history of which has been already communicated to
the reader.4

1 Vol. iii. p. 148. - Vol. ii. p. 314. 3 Vol. ii. p. 315.

« Above, Vol. I. p. 96.

CHAPTER L1V.

PERSONAL NARRATIVE.

MR. WORDSWORTH returned from his tour in Italy in
August, 1837.

While in London, he addressed the following letter to
Professor Henry Reed, of Philadelphia, who had published
an edition of Wordsworth's Poetical Works in America.

This was the commencement of a correspondence which
was carried on without interruption, and with mutual
gratification, to the year 1846. The friendship of the
correspondents continued unbroken to the time of Mr.
Wordsworth's death.

i
To Professor Henry Reed, of Philadelphia.

'London, August 19, [1837.]
4 My dear Sir,

4 Upon returning from a tour of several months upon
the Continent, I find two letters from you awaiting my
arrival, along with the edition of my Poems you have
done me the honour of editing. To begin with the former
letter, April 25, 1836 : It gives me concern that you
should have thought it necessary (not to apologize, for
that you have not done, but) to explain at length why you
addressed me in the language of affectionate regard. It
must surely be gratifying to one, whose aim as an author
has been the hearts of his fellow-creatures of all ranks and

348 PERSONAL NARRATIVE.

in all stations, to find that he has succeeded in any quar-
ter ; and still more must he be gratified to learn that he
has pleased in a distant country men of simple habits and
cultivated taste, who are at the same time widely ac-
quainted with literature. Your second letter, accompa-
nying the edition of the Poems, I have read, but unluckily
have it not before me. It was lent to Serjeant Talfourd,
on account of the passage in it that alludes to the possible
and desirable establishment of English copyright in Amer-
ica. I shall now hasten to notice the edition which you
have superintended of my Poems. This I can do with
much pleasure, as the book, which has been shown to
several persons of taste, Mr. Rogers, in particular, is
allowed to be far the handsomest specimen of printing in
double columns which they have seen. Allow me to
thank you for the pains you have bestowed upon the work.
Do not apprehend that any difference in our several
arrangements of the poems can be of much importance ;
you appear to understand me far too well for that to be
possible. I have only to regret, in respect to this volume,
that it should have been published before my last edition,
in the correction of which t took great pains, as my last
labour in that way, and which moreover contains several
additional pieces. It may be allowed me also to express
a hope that such a law will be passed ere long by the
American legislature, as will place English authors in
general upon a better footing in America than at present
they have obtained, and that the protection of copyright be-
tween the two countries will be reciprocal. The vast circu-
lation of English works in America offers a temptation for
hasty and incorrect printing ; and that same vast circula-
tion would, without adding to the price of each copy of an
English work in a degree that could be grudged or thought
injurious by any purchaser, allow an' American remunera-

PERSONAL NARRATIVE. 349

tion, which might add considerably to the comforts of
English authors, who may be in narrow circumstances,
yet who at the same time may have written solely from
honourable motives. Besides, Justice is the foundation on
which both law and practice ought to rest. '

4 Having many letters to write on returning to England
after so long an absence, I regret that I must be so brief
on the present occasion. I cannot conclude, however,
without assuring you that the acknowledgments which I
receive from the vast continent of America are among the
most grateful that reach me. What a vast field is there
open to the English mind, acting through our noble lan-
guage ! Let us hope that our authors of true genius will
not be unconscious of that thought, or inattentive to the
duty which it imposes upon them, of doing their utmost to
instruct, to purify, and to elevate their readers. That such
may be my own endeavour through the short time I shall
have to remain in this world, is a prayer in which I am
sure you and your life's partner will join me. Believe me
gratefully,

4 Your much obliged friend,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

In September of the same year, Mr. Wordsworth was
with his friends and relatives at Brinsop Court, Hereford-
shire, whence he wrote the following letter to Mr. Quilli-
nan, who had just arrived from Oporto ; in which he pays
a just and honourable tribute to his poetical and critical
powers.

To Edward Quillinan, Esq.

' Brinsop Court, Sept. 20, 1837.
4 My dear Mr. Quillinan,

4 We are heartily glad to learn from your letter, just re-

350 PERSONAL NARRATIVE.

ceived, that, in all probability, by this time, you must have
left the unhappy country in which you have been so long
residing. I should not have been sorry if you had entered
a little more into Peninsular politics ; for what is going on
there is shocking to humanity, and one would be glad to
see anything like an opening for the termination of these
unnatural troubles. The position of the Miguelites, rela-
tively to the conflicting, so called, liberal parties, is just
what I apprehended, and expressed very lately to Mr.
Robinson. .....

He came down with us to Hereford, with a view to a short
tour on the banks of the Wye, which has been prevented
by an unexpected attack of my old complaint of inflam-
mation in the eye ; and in consequence of this, Dora will
accompany me home, with a promise on her part of return-
ing to London before the month of October is out. Our
places are taken in to-morrow's coach for Liverpool ; so
that, since we must be disappointed of seeing you and
Jemima here, we trust that you will come on to Rydal
from Leeds. This very day Dora had read to me your
poem again: it convinces me, along with your other writ-
ings, that it is in your power to attain a permanent place
among the poets of England. Your thoughts, feelings,
knowledge, and judgment in style, and skill in metre,
entitle you to it ; and, if you have not yet succeeded in
gaining it, the cause appears to me merely to lie in the
subjects which you have chosen. It is worthy of note,
how much of Gray's popularity is owing to the happiness
with which his subject is selected in three places, his
" Hymn to Adversity," his " Ode on the distant prospect
of Eton College," and his " Elegy." I ought, however,
in justice to you, to add, that one cause of your failure
appears to have been thinking too humbly of yourself, so
that you have not reckoned it worth while to look suffi-

PERSONAL NARRATIVE. 351

ciently round you for the best subjects, or to employ as
much time in reflecting, condensing, bringing out and
placing your thoughts and feelings in the best point of
view as is necessary. I will conclude this matter of poetry
and my part of the letter, with requesting that, as an act
of friendship, at your convenience, you would take the
trouble — a considerable one, I own — of comparing the
corrections in my last edition with the text in the preceding
one. You know my principles of style better, I think,
than any one else ; and I should be glad to learn if any-
thing strikes you as being altered for the worse. You
will find the principal changes are in " The White Doe,"
in which I had too little of the benefit of your help and
judgment. There are several also in the Sonnets, both
miscellaneous and political : in the other poems they are
nothing like so numerous ; but here also I should be glad
if you would take the like trouble. Jemima, I am sure,
will be pleased to assist you in the comparison, by read-
ing, new or old, as you may think fit. With love to her,
I remain,

1 My dear Mr. Quillinan,

4 Faithfully yours,
' WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

During this visit in Herefordshire he was disabled by
an attack of inflammation in one of his eyes.

4 After having had excellent health during my long
ramble,' he says, in a letter to Lord Lonsdale, written
after his return, 4 it is unfortunate that I should thus be
disabled at the conclusion. The mischief came to me in
Herefordshire, whither I had gone on my way home to
see my brother-in-law, who, by his horse falling with him
some time ago, was left without the use of his limbs.

352 PERSONAL NARRATIVE.

* I was lately a few days with Mr. Rogers, at Broadstairs,
and also with the Archbishop of Canterbury, at Addington
Park ; they were both well, and I was happy to see the
Archbishop much stronger than his slender and almost
feeble appearance would lead one to expect. We walked
up and down in the park for three hours one day, and
nearly four the next, without his seeming to be the least
fatigued. I mention this as we must all feel the value of
his life in this state of public affairs.

1 The cholera prevented us getting as far as Naples,
which was the only disappointment we met with. As a
man of letters I have to regret that this most interesting
tour was not made by me earlier in life, as I might have
turned the notices it has supplied me with to more account
than I now expect to do. With respectful remembrances
to Lady Lonsdale and to your Lordship, in which Mrs. W.
unites,

4 1 remain, my dear Lord, faithfully,

1 Your much obliged servant,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.
'Rydal Mount, Sept. 27.'

The following is to the learned editor of Bentley's
works, and of the writings of Akenside, and various
English poets.

To the Rev. Alex. Dyce.

'Dec. 23, 1837.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 have just received your valuable present of Bentley's
works, for which accept my cordial thanks, as also for the
leaf to be added to Akenside.

4 Is it recorded in your Memoir of Akenside, — for I

PERSONAL NARRATIVE. 353

have not leisure nor eyesight at present to look, — that
he was fond of sitting in St. James's Park with his eyes
upon Westminster Abbey ? This, I am sure, I have either
read or heard of him ; and I imagine that it was from Mr.
Rogers. I am not unfrequently a visitor on Hampstead
Heath, and seldom pass by the entrance of Mr. Dyson's
villa on Goulder's Hill, close by, without thinking of the
pleasure which Akenside often had there.

4 1 cannot call to mind a reason why you should not
think some passages in " The Power of Sound " equal to
anything I have produced. When first printed in the
" Yarrow Revisited," I placed it at the end of the volume,
and, in the last edition of my Poems, at the close of the
Poems of Imagination, indicating thereby my own opinion
of it.

4 How much do I regret that I have neither learning nor
eyesight thoroughly to enjoy Bentley's masterly " Disser-
tation upon the Epistles of Phalaris ! " Many years ago
I read the work with infinite pleasure. As far as I know,
or rather am able to judge, it is without a rival in that
department of literature ; a work of which the English
nation may be proud as long as acute intellect, and vigorous
powers, and profound scholarship shall be esteemed in the
world.

' Let me again repeat my regret that in, passing to and
from Scotland you have never found it convenient to visit
this part of the country. I should be delighted to see you,
and I am sure Mr. Southey would be the same : and in
his house you would find an inexhaustible collection of
books, many curious no doubt ; but his classical library is
much the least valuable part of it. The death of his
excellent wife was a deliverance for herself and the
whole family, so great had been her sufferings of mind
and body.

VOL ii. 23

354 PERSONAL NARRATIVE.

4 You do not say a word about Skelton ; and I regret
much your disappointment in respect of Middleton.
4 I remain, my dear Sir,

4 Faithfully, your much obliged,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Henry Reed, Esq., Philadelphia.

. 'Rydal Mount, Dec. 23, 1839.

4 My dear Sir,

4 The year is upon the point of expiring ; and a letter
of yours, dated May 7th, though not received till late in
June (for I was moving about all last spring and part of
the summer), remains unacknowledged. I have also to
thank you for the acceptable present of the two volumes
which reached me some time afterwards.*

4 Your letters are naturally turned upon the impression
which my poems have made, and the estimation they are
held, or likely to be held, in, through the vast country to
which you belong. I wish I could feel as livelily as you do
upon this subject, or even upon the general destiny of
those works. Pray do not be long surprised at this decla-
ration. There is a difference of more than the length of
your life, I believe, between our ages. I am standing on
the brink of that vast ocean I must sail so soon ; I must
speedily lose sight of the shore ; and I could not once
have conceived how little I now am troubled by the
thought of how long or short a time they who remain on
that shore may have sight of me. The other day 1

* [A copy of the edition of the 'Lyrical Ballads,' printed in
Philadelphia ia the year 1802. — H. R.]

PERSONAL NARRATIVE. 355

chanced to be looking over a MS. poem,* belonging to
the year 1803, though not actually composed till many
years afterwards. It was suggested by visiting the neigh-
bourhood of Dumfries, in which Burns had resided, and
where he died ; it concluded thus :

" Sweet Mercy to the gates of heaven
This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven ;
The rueful conflict, the heart riven

With vain endeavour,
And memory of earth's bitter leaven

Effaced for ever."

4 Here the verses closed ; but I instantly added, the
other day,

" But why to him confine the prayer,
When kindred thoughts and yearnings bear
On the frail heart the purest share

With all that live ?
The best of what we do and are,

Just God, forgive ! "

4 The more I reflect upon this last exclamation, the
more I feel (and perhaps it may in some degree be the
same with you) justified in attaching comparatively small
importance to any literary monument that I may be
enabled to leave behind. It is well, however, I am con-
vinced, that men think otherwise in the earlier part of
their lives ; and why it is so, is a point I need not touch
upon in writing to you.

4 Before I dismiss this subject let me thank you for the
extract from your intelligent friend's letter; and allow me
to tell you that I could not but smile at your Boston critic

* [< Thoughts on the Banks of Nith,' near the residence of
Burns : Vol. iii. p. 5. See also last chapter (LIV.) — H. R.]

356 PERSONAL NARRATIVE.

placing my name by the side of Cowley. I suppose he
cannot mean anything more than that the same measure
of reputation or fame (if that be not too presumptuous a
word) is due to us both.

1 German transcendentalism, which you say this critic
is infected by, would be a woful visitation for the world.

4 The way in which you speak of me in connection with
your possible visit to England was most gratifying ; and I
here repeat that I should be truly glad to see you in the
delightful spot where I have long dwelt ; and I have the
more pleasure in saying this to you, because, in spite of
my old infirmity, my strength exceeds that of most men
of my years, and my general health continues to be, as it
always has been, remarkably good. A page of blank
paper stares me in the face ; and I am not sure that it is
worth while to fill it with a sonnet which broke from me
not long ago in reading an account of misdoings in many
parts of your Republic. Mrs. Wordsworth will, however,
transcribe it.

" Men of the Western World ! in Fate's dark book,
Whence these opprobrious leaves, of dire portent ? '' l

'To turn to another subject. You will be sorry to
learn that several of my most valued friends are likely to
suffer from the monetary derangements in America. My
family, however, is no way directly entangled, unless the
Mississippi bonds prove invalid. There is an opinion
pretty current among discerning persons in England, that
Republics are not to be trusted in money concerns, — I
suppose because the sense of honour is more obtuse, the
responsibility being divided among so many. For my

1 See Vol. iv. p. 261. ' i .;

PERSONAL NARRATIVE. 357

own part, I have as little or less faith in absolute despot-
isms, except that they are more easily convinced that it is
politic to keep up their credit by holding to their engage-
ments.* What power is maintained by this practice was
shown by Great Britain in her struggle with Buonaparte.
This lesson has not been lost on the leading monarchical
states of Europe. But too much of this.
' Believe me to remain,

* Faithfully yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

* [Touching upon this subject in a letter of later date, Mr.
Wordsworth said that he chiefly grieved on account of the very
many, who in humble life were stripped of their comforts, and
even brought to want by these defalcations ; and even still more
did he mourn for the disgrace brought upon and the discourage-
ment given to, the self-government of nations by the spread of
the suffrage among the people. Letter to H. R. 'Kydal Mount,
Ambleside, Oct. 10, 1843.' — H. R.]

CHAPTER LV.

PERSONAL HISTORY.

IN the summer of 1839, Mr. Wordsworth was honoured
by the University of Oxford with the degree of D. C. L.

One of the most gratifying circumstances of that inau-
guration was that he was presented for his degree by a
person, whose claims on the gratitude of posterity are
in many respects similar to his own. In introducing the
Poet of the Lakes to the authorities of the University, for
the reception of his degree, the Professor of Poetry, the
Rev. John Keble used the following language, rendered
more appropriate by its connection with the subject of the
Creweian Oration of that year, which was designed to
commemorate the care bestowed on the ' Pauperes Christi'
by the Founders and Benefactors of the University.
1 Possim etiam illud docere, Academiam, ipsasque adeo
literas non bene carere posse suavitate ilia austera et
solida, qua solet alumnos suos imbuere sapienter et bene
acta pauperum juventus. Verum huic loco satis superque
me fecisse arbitrabar, Academici, si semel vobis eum in
memoriam revocarem : cum pra3sertim is prsesto sit nobis
in nobili hac corona, qui unus omnium maxime poetarum,
mores, studia, religiones pauperum collocaverit non dicam
bono verum etiam ccelesti lumine. Ad ejus itaque viri
carmina remittendos esse hoc tempore putabam, si qui ex
intimo animo sentire vellent arcanam illam necessitudinem

PERSONAL HISTORY. 359

honestse Paupertatis cum Musis severioribus, cum excelsa
Philosophia, immo cum sacrosancta Religione.'

This eulogy from the author of 4 The Christian Year'
may be aptly coupled with another from the same quarter.
I refer to the Dedication of Mr. Keble's Preelections on
Poetry, delivered before the University of Oxford, and
inscribed to Mr. Wordsworth, in the following terms :

' Viro Vere Philosopho

Et Yati Sacro

Gulielmo Wordsworth

Cui Illud Munus Tribuit

Deus Opt. Max.

Ut, Sive Hominum Affectus Caneret,

Sive Terrarum Et Coeli Pulohritudinem,

Legentium Animos Semper Ad Sanctiora Erigeret,

Semper A Pauperum Et Simpliciorum Partibus Staret,

Atque Adeo, Labente Saeculo, Existeret

Non Solum Dulcissimae Poeseos,

Verum Etiam Divinae Veritatis

Antistes,

Unus Multorum, Qui Devinctos Se Esse Sentiunt
Assiduo Nobilium Ejus Carminum Beneficio,
Hoc Qualecunque Grati Animi Testimoniam

D. D. D.
Reverentiae, Pietatis, Amicitiae Ergo.'

This inscription was particularly grateful to Mr. Words-
worth. He regarded the expression 4ad sanctioraerigeret,1
as a very happy delineation of what he, as a Poet, had
endeavoured to perform.

He did not profess to be a writer of '. Sacred Poetry,'
properly so called. Indeed, he had some doubts how far
uninspired men are competent to write sacred poetry.
But, however this may be, he considered it to be the
mission of all poets, and he regarded it as his own voca-
tion, to endeavour to elevate the mind to sacred things.

360 PERSONAL HISTORY.

He did not feel authorized or qualified by his profession
to conduct others into the inner shrine within the veil, but
he endeavoured to prepare their minds to worship with
mere devotion in the outer court of the natural world, and
thus to fit themselves for admission into the sanctuary,
under the guidance of revealed religion.1

But I pass on. Mr. Wordsworth, on his return home,
wrote to his friend, Mr. Peace of Bristol, who, in order to
be present in the Sheldonian Theatre on the occasion
when the honorary Degree was conferred on the Poet, had
walked to Oxford with some such feelings as a Tuscan of
the fourteenth century might have made a pilgrimage to
Rome to see Petrarch crowned in the capitol.

To John Peace, Esq., City Library, Bristol.

'Rydal Mount, Aug. 30, 1839.
1 My dear Sir,

1 It was not a little provoking that I had not the pleasure
of shaking you by the hand at Oxford when you did me
the honour of coming so far to "join in the shout." I
was told by a Fellow of University College that he had
never witnessed such an outburst of enthusiasm in that
place, except upon the occasions of the visits of the Duke
of Wellington — one unexpected. My Nephew, Fellow of
Trinity College, Cambridge, was present, as well as m^
son, William, who, I am happy to say, is much better in
health than when you saw him in Oxford. He is here,
and desires to be kindly remembered to you.'

What a contrast was this to the reception which a few
years before Mr. Wordsworth had experienced from the

1 See below, p. 368 - 370.

PERSONAL HISTORY.

most celebrated critics of England, and from the literary
world at large ! *

In this letter to Mr. Peace, Mr. Wordsworth mentions
his nephew, Mr. John Wordsworth, as present at Oxford,

* [The late Dr. Arnold shared in the enthusiasm of the recep-
tion given to Wordsworth : in a letter dated July 6, 1839, he says,
' I went up to Oxford to the commemoration, for the first time in
twenty-one years, to see Wordsworth and Bunsen receive their
degrees; and to me, remembering how old Coleridge inoculated
a little knot of us with the love of Wordsworth, when his name
was in general a by-word, it was striking to witness the thunders
of applause, repeated over and over again, with which he was
greeted in the theatre by undergraduates and Masters of Arts
alike.' Stanley's ' Life and Correspondence of Arnold.' (The
word 'old' in this extract is to be taken in its humorous sense —
it being used as an epithet of familiar affection for one of the
writer's college-mates, now Sir John Taylor Coleridge, one of the
Judges of the Court of Queen's Bench.)

The welcome given to Wordsworth at Oxford inspired the fol-
lowing memorial in verse :

' On the Reception of the Poet Wordsworth at Oxford.

0 never did a mighty truth prevail
With such felicities of place and time,
As in those shouts sent forth with joy sublime
From the full heart of England's Youth, to hail
Her once neglected Bard,%within the pale
Of Learning's fairest Citadel! That voice
In which the Future thunders, bids rejoice
Some who through wintry fortunes did not fail
To bless with love as deep as life, the name
Thus welcomed, — who, in happy silence, share
The triumph ; while their fondest musings claim
Unhoped-for echoes in the joyous air,
That to their long-loved Poet's spirit bear
A Nation's promise of undying fame.'

Talfourd's ' Tragedies and other Poems,' — p. 246. — H. R.]

362 PERSONAL HISTORY.

on the occasion there described. This leads me to intro-
duce a few words concerning him, in connection with his
uncle.

In December, 1838, Mr. Wordsworth was preparing a
new edition of his Poems, and he wrote as follows, to his
publisher :

To Edward Moxon, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1838.
1 Dear Mr. Moxon,

4 1 am in hopes that my nephew, Mr. John Wordsworth,
of Cambridge, will correct the proofs for me : he prom-
ised to do so, when he was here a few weeks ago ; but I
grieve to say he has been very unwell since, and may not
be equal to the task ; but I shall write to him on the sub-
ject. He is the most accurate man I know ; and if a
revise of each sheet could be sent to him the edition
would be immaculate.

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

The relative to whom Mr. Wordsworth here refers, was
the Rev. John Words worth ,.M. A., Fellow of Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge, eldest son of the Master of that College.

The apprehensions with regard to him expressed in this
letter were too well grounded. His health had been re-
cruited by a continental tour, in 1834, when he employed
himself in making an accurate collation of the Medecian
MS. of ^Eschylus, at Florence, with a view to an edition
of that poet. On his return to England, he was appointed
a classical lecturer in his college ; and the lectures which
he delivered in that capacity, were distinguished by pro-

PERSONAL HISTORY. 363

found erudition. He spared no labour in his philological
researches, which he pursued with great vigilance of
observation, and singular acuteness of discrimination,
to which were added a sound judgment and tenacious
memory.

He was conversant with the principal productions of
modern literature, especially the works of English poets,
and among these there were none oftener in his hands
than those of the Poet of Rydal. He was a judicious
lover of the fine arts, particularly painting and engraving.
Serious in aspect, tall in person, thoughtful in demeanour,
unobtrusive in manner, he bore in his appearance an air
of earnestness and gravity. He was devotedly attached
to the college and university of which he was a member,
and he had imbibed from his father's teaching and exam-
ple, a dutiful and intelligent affection for the English
Church, of which he was a minister.1

In the autumn of 1839, his illness assumed a serious
character, and he gradually declined in strength. The
result is described in the following letters from Mr. Words-
worth's pen.

To Lady Frederick Bentinck.

1 Rydal Mount, Ambleside (not Kendal),

' Jan. 3, [1840.]
4 My dear Lady Frederick,

'Yesterday brought us melancholy news in a letter
from my brother, Dr. Wordsworth, which announced the
death of his eldest son. He died last Tuesday, in Trinity

1 See the Preface to the last edition of Dr. Bentley's Correspon-
dence ; Lond. 1842, p. xvii.-xix.j a work which he had in-
tended to publish, and for which he had collected a large portion
of the materials subsequently employed in it.

364 PERSONAL HISTORY.

College, of which he was a fellow, having been tenderly
nursed by his father, during rather a long illness. He
was a most amiable man, and, I have reason to believe,
was one of the best scholars in Europe. We were all
strongly attached to him, and, as his poor father writes,
u the loss is to him, and to his sorrowing sons, irreparable
on this side of the grave."

4 W. W.'

To the Rev. the Master of Trinity College, Cambridge.

'Friday, Jan. 3, [1840.]
' My very dear Brother,

1 It is in times of trouble and affliction that one feels
most deeply the strength of the ties of family and nature.
We all most affectionately condole with you, and those
who are around you, at this melancholy time. The de-
parted was beloved in this house, as he deserved to be ;
but our sorrow, great as it is for our own sakes, is still
heavier for yours and his brothers'. He is a power gone
out of our family, and they will be perpetually reminded
of it. But the best of all consolations will be with you,
with them, with us, and all his numerous relatives and
friends, especially with Mrs. Hoare, that his life had been
as blameless as man's could well be, and, through the
goodness of God, he is gone to his reward.1

' I remain your loving brother,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

1 A bust, executed by Mr. Weekes, under Sir Francis Chan-
trey'sfc superintendence, was placed by his friends in the Ante-
chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge, where he was buried. It

PERSONAL HISTORY. 365

This letter may be fitly followed by another, address-
ed about the same time to Dr. Parry, of Summer Hill,
Bath, on a similar occasion, — the bereavement of a
daughter.1

is a very excellent likeness. Beneath it is the following inscrip-
tion :

IOANNES . WORDSWORTH .A.M. COLL . S . S . TRIN . SOC

CHRISTOPHORI . WORDSWORTH . S . T . P . COLL . MAG . F1L . NAT . MAI

GVLIELMI . WOHDSWORTH . MAGNI . POETAE . NEPOS

CVM . BENTLEIO . ILLO . PORSONO . DOBREO

VT . VITAE . ET . SEPVLTVRAE . LOCO

ITA . STVDIORVM . SIMIL1TVDINE . CONIVNCTVS

ERVDITIONEM . SIBI . MAGNO . LABORE

COMPARAVIT . ADCVRATISSVMAM

QVAM . EGREGIE . COMMENDABANT

FORMA . VVLTVS . INCESSVS . SEKMO

OMNES . COMPOSITI

INDOLIS . SVAVITAS . CHRISTIANA . HVMILITAS
AD . SENTIENDOS . TENKRI . ANIMI . ADFECTVS . PBOPENSVS

IN . MONSTRANDIS . VERECVNDISSVMVS
ALIORVM . AEQVVS . AESTVMATOR . SEVERVS . SVI

DIGNVS . LAVDARI . NON . CVPIDVS
LATERE . QVVM . VELLET . COEPIT . LATENDO . CONSPICI

HAVE . FILI . F RATER . AMICE . DVLCISSVME
IN . IPSO . AETATIS . FLORE . NOBIS . EREPTE

NOS . PATER . FRATRES . SODAUES

TE . PIO . DESIDERIO . PROSEQVENTES

SEMPER . REMINISCIMVR . TVI

NON . SINE . LACRVMIS

NATVS . KAL . IVL . CIOIOCCCV . OB . PRID . KAL . IAN . CIOIOCCCIL
EFFIGIEM . E . MARMORE . AMICI . MOERENTES .P.O.

1 Ellen Parry, who died April 28, 1840. Mr. Wordsworth saw
her April 28, 1839. He was again at Summer Hill, Bath, in
April, 1840.

366 PERSONAL HISTORY.

' Rydal Mount, Ambleside, May 21, 1840.
1 My dear Sir,

* Pray impute to anything but a want of due sympathy
with you in your affliction, my not having earlier given an
answer to your letter. In truth, I was so much moved by
it, that I had not, at first, sufficient resolution to bring my
thoughts so very close to your trouble, as must have been
done, had I taken up the pen immediately. I have been
myself distressed in the same way, though my two chil-
dren were taken from me at an earlier age, one in her
fifth, the other in his seventh year, and within half a year
of each other. I can, therefore, enter into your sorrows
more feelingly than for others, is possible, who have not
suffered like losses.

4 Your departed daughter struck me as having one of
the most intelligent and impressive countenances I ever
looked upon, and I spoke of her as such to Mrs. Words-
worth, Miss Fenvvick, and to others. The indications which
I saw in her, of a somewhat alarming state of health, I
could not but mention to you, when you accompanied me
a little way from your own door. You spoke something
encouraging ; but they continued to haunt me ; so that
your kind letter was something less of a shock than it
would otherwise have been, though not less of a sorrow.

4 How pathetic is your account of the piety with which
the dear creature supported herself under those severe
trials of mind and body with which it pleased God to pre-
pare her for a happier world ! The consolation which
children and very young persons, who have been re-
ligiously brought up, draw from the Holy Scriptures,
ought to be habitually on the minds of adults of all ages,
for the benefit of their own souls, and requires to be- treated
in a loftier and more comprehensive train of thought and

PERSONAL HISTORY. 367

feeling than by writers has been usually bestowed upon it.
It does not, therefore, surprise me that you hinted at my
own pen being employed upon the subject, as brought
before the mind in your lamented daughter's own most
touching case. I wish I were equal to anything so holy,
but I feel that I am not. It is remarkable, however, that
within the last few days the subject has been presented to
my mind by two several persons, both unknown to me ;
which is something of a proof how widely its importance
is felt, and also that there is a feeling that I am not wholly
unworthy of treating it.

4 Your letter, my dear Sir, I value exceedingly, and shall
take the liberty, as I have done more than once, with fit
reverence, of reading it in quarters where it is likely to do
good, or rather, where I know it must do good.

4 Wishing and praying that the Almighty may bestow
upon yourself, the partner in your bereavement, and all
the fellow-sufferers in your household, that consolation and
support which can proceed only from His grace,
4 1 remain, my dear Dr. Parry,

4 Most faithfully, your much obliged,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

CHAPTER LVI.
i

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

To the Rev. Henry Alford.

(Postmark) 'Ambkside, Feb. 21, 1840.
1 MY dear Sir,

4 Pray excuse my having been some little time in your
debt. I could plead many things in extenuation, the chief,
that old one of the state of my eyes, which never leaves
me at liberty either to read or write a tenth part as much
as I could wish, and as otherwise I ought to do.

4 It cannot but be highly gratifying to me to learn that
my writings are prized so highly by a poet and critic of
your powers. The essay upon them which you have so
kindly sent me, seems well qualified to promote your
views in writing it. I was particularly pleased with your
distinction between religion in poetry, and versified re-
ligion. For my own part, I have been averse to frequent
mention of the mysteries of Christian faith ; not from a
want of a due sense of their momentous nature, but the
contrary. I felt it far too deeply to venture on handling
the subject as familiarly as many scruple not to do. I am
far from blaming them, but let them not blame me, nor
turn from my companionship on that account. Besides
general reasons for diffidence in treating subjects of holy
writ, I have some especial ones. I might err in points
of faith, and I should not deem my mistakes less to be

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 369

deprecated because they were expressed in metre. Even
Milton, in my humble judgment, has erred, and grievously ;
and what poet could hope to atone for his apprehensions 1
in the way in which that mighty mind has done ?

' I am not at all desirous that any one should write an
elaborate critique on my poetry.2 There is no call for it.
If they be from above, they will do their own work in
course of time ; if not, they will perish as they ought.
But scarcely a week passes in which I do not receive
grateful acknowledgments of the good they have done to
the minds of the several writers. They speak of the relief
they have received from them under affliction and in grief,
and of the calmness and elevation of spirit which the poems
either give or assist them in attaining. As these benefits
are not without a traceable bearing upon the good of the
immortal soul, the sooner, perhaps, they are pointed out
and illustrated in a work like yours, the better.

4 Pray excuse my talking so much about myself: your
letter and critique called me to the subject. But I assure
you it would have been more grateful to me to acknowl-
edge the debt we owe you in this house, where we have
read your poems with no common pleasure. Your " Ab-
bot of Muchelnage " also makes me curious to hoar more
of him.

4 But I must conclude, .-;••••• • * ••,.•*».•

I was truly sorry to have missed you when you and Mrs.
Alford called at Rydal. Mrs. W. unites with me in kind
regards to you both ; and believe me,
4 My dear Sir,

4 Faithfully yours,

4 WM. WOHDSWOETH.'

1 Sic. : qu. 'Misapprehensions.' — H. A.

2 Sic.: 1. 'Poems.' — H. A.
VOL. H. 24

370 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

This letter may be followed by a memorandum of a
conversation with Mr. Wordsworth, communicated by the
Rev. R. P. Graves.

4 1 must try to give you a summary of a long conversa-
tion I had with Wordsworth, on the subject of sacred,
poetry, and which I wish I were able to report in full. In
the course of it he expressed to me the feelings of rever-
ence which prevented him from venturing to lay his hand
on what he always thought a subject too high for him ;
arid he accompanied this with the earnest protest that his
works, as well as those of any other poet, should not be
considered as developing all the influences which his own
heart recognised, but rather those which he considered
himself able as an artist to display to advantage, and
which he thought most applicable to the wants, and
admitted by the usages, of the world at large. This was
followed by a most interesting discussion upon Milton,
Cowper, the general progress of religion as an element of
poetry, and the gradual steps by which it must advance to
a power comprehensive and universally admitted; steps
which are defined in their order by the constitution of the
human mind, and which must proceed with vastly more
slowness in the case of the progress made by collective
minds, than it does in an individual soul.'

To Lady Frederick Bentinck.

'July, 1840.

4 1 hope, dear Lady Frederick, that nothing will prevent
my appearance at Lowther towards the end of next week.
But 1 have for these last few years been visited always
with a serious inflammation in my eyes about this season
of the year, which causes me to have fears about the

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 371

fulfilment of any engagement, however agreeable. Pray
thank Lord Lonsdale, on my part, for his thinking of me
upon this occasion.

1 On Monday morning, a little before nine, a beautiful
and bright day, the Queen Dowager and her sister ap-
peared at Rydal. I met them at the lower waterfall, with
which her Majesty seemed much pleased. Upon hearing
that it was not more than half a mile to the higher fall,
she said, briskly, she would go ; though Lord Denbigh
and Lord Howe felt that they were pressed for time,
having to go upon Keswick Lake, and thence to Pater-
dale. I walked by the Queen's side up to the higher
waterfall, and she seemed to be struck much with the
beauty of the scenery. Her step was exceedingly light;
but I learned that her health is not good, or rather that
she still suffers from the state of her constitution, which
caused her to go abroad.

4 Upon quitting the park of Rydal, nearly opposite our
own gate, the Queen was saluted with a pretty rural spec-
tacle ; nearly fifty children, drawn up in avenue, with
bright garlands in their hands, three large flags flying,
and a band of music. They had come from Ambleside,
and the garlands were such as are annually prepared at
this season for a ceremony called "the Rush-bearing;"
and the parish-clerk of Ambleside hit upon this way of
showing at Rydal the same respect to the Queen which
had been previously shown at Ambleside. I led the
Queen to the principal points of view in our little domain,
particularly to that, through the summer-house, which
shows the lake of Rydal to such advantage. The Queen
talked more than once about having a cottage among the
lakes, which of course was nothing more than a natural
way of giving vent to the pleasure which she had in the
country. You will think, I fear, that I have dwelt already

372 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

too long upon the subject; and shall therefore only add,
that all went off satisfactorily, and that every one was
delighted with her Majesty's demeanour. Lord and Lady
Sheffield were the only persons of her suite whom I had
seen before. Lord Howe was pleased with the sight of
the pictures from his friend Sir George Beaumont's
pencil, and showed them to the Queen, who, having sat
some little time in the house, took her leave, cordially
shaking Mrs. Wordsworth by the hand, as a friend of her
own rank might have done. She had also inquired for
Dora, who was introduced to her. I hope she will come
again into the country, and visit Lowther.

4 Pray excuse the above long story, which I should not
have ventured upon, but that you expressed a wish upon
the subject.

' What enchanting weather ! I hope, and do not doubt,
that you all enjoy it, my dear Lady Frederick, as we are
doing.

4 1 ought not to forget, that two days ago I went over to
see Mr. Southey, or rather Mrs. Southey, for he is past
taking pleasure in the presence of any of his friends.
He did not recognise me till he was told. Then his eyes
flashed for a moment with their former brightness, but he
sank into the state in which I had found him, patting with
both hands his books affectionately, like a child. Having
attempted in vain to interest him by a few observations, I
took my leave, after five minutes or so. It was, for me,
a mournful visit, and for his poor wife also. His health
is good, and he may live many years ; though the body
is much enfeebled.

1 Ever affectionately yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 373

4 We hope your lameness will soon leave you, that you
may ramble about as usual.'

To the Rev. T. Boyles Murray.

'Rydal Mount, Ambleside, Sept. 24, 1840.
4 Dear Sir,

1 Upon returning home after an absence of ten days, I
have the pleasure of finding your obliging letter, and the
number of the " Ecclesiastical Gazette " containing the
" Ecclesiastical Duties and Revenues Act : " for both
marks of attention I beg you to accept my sincere thanks.
As soon as I can find leisure, I will carefully peruse the
Act ; at present I can only say that I look upon changes
so extensive and searching with a degree of alarm pro-
portionate to my love and affection for the Establishment
with which they are connected.

4 As you have put me in possession of the 44 Gazette,"
I can scarcely feel justified in looking to the fulfilment of
your promise to send me the Act, separately printed. In-
deed, I feel that it would be giving yourself more trouble
than there is occasion for.

4 It pleases me much to learn that Mrs. Murray and you
enjoyed your ramble among the lakes.

4 Believe me to be, dear Sir, -
4 Faithfully,

4 Your obliged servant,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Lady Frederick Bentinck.

1 Rydal Mount, Sept. 26, 1840.
4 Dear Lady Frederick,
4 Mr. Rogers and I had a pleasant journey to Rydal the

374 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

day we left all our kind friends at Lowther. We alighted
at Lyulph's Tower, and saw the waterfall in great power
after the night's rain, the sun shining full into the chasm,
and making a splendid rainbow of the spray. Afterwards,
walking through Mr. Askew's grounds, we saw the lake to
the greatest possible advantage. Mr. R. left on Thursday,
the morning most beautiful, though it rained afterwards.
I know not how he could tear himself away from this
lovely country at this charming season. I say charming,
notwithstanding this is a dull day ; but yesterday was
most glorious. I hope our excellent friend does not mean
to remain in London.

' We have had no visits from strangers since my return,
so that the press of the season seems to be over. The
leaves are not changed here so much as at Lowther, and
of course not yet so beautiful, nor are they ever quite so
as with you, your trees being so much finer, and your
woods so very much more extensive. We have a great
deal of coppice, which makes but a poor show in autumn
compared with timber trees.

4 Your son George knows what he has to expect in the
few sheets which I enclose for him.

4 With many thanks for the endless kind attentions
which I received from you, and others under your
father's hospitable roof, and with my grateful respects to
him, and a thousand good wishes for all, I remain, my
wife and daughter joining in these feelings,
4 My dear Lady Frederick,

4 Affectionately yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

The following describes an alarming accident which
happened to Mr. Wordsworth on November llth, 1840.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 375

'Rydal Mount, Monday Evening.

4 The accident after which you inquire, dear Lady
Frederick, with so much feeling, might have been fatal,
but through God's mercy we escaped without bodily
injury, as far as I know, worth naming. These were the
particulars : About three miles beyond Keswick, on the
Ambleside Road, is a small bridge, from the top of which
we got sight of the mail coach coming towards us, at
above forty yards distance, just before the road begins to
descend a narrow, steep, and winding slope. Nothing

was left for J , who drove the gig in which we were,

but to cross the bridge, and, as the road narrowed up the
slope that was in our front, to draw up as close to the wall
on our left (our side of the road) as possible. This he
did, both of us hoping that the coachman would slacken
his pace down the hill, and pass us as far from our wheel
as the road would allow. But he did neither. On the
contrary, he drove furiously. down the hill; and though,
as. we afterwards ascertained, by the track of his wheels,
he had a yard width of road to spare, he made no use of
it. In consequence of this recklessness and his want of
skill, the wheel of his coach struck our wheel most vio-
lently, drove back our horse and gig some yards, and
then sent us altogether through a small gap in the wall,
with the stones of the wall tumbling about us, into a plan-
tation that lay a yard perpendicular below the level of the
road from which the horse and gig, with us in it, had been
driven. The shafts were broken off close to the carriage,
and we were partly thrown and partly leaped out. After
breaking the traces, the horse leaped back into the road
and galloped off, the shafts and traces sticking to him ;
nor did the poor creature stop till he reached the turnpike
at Grasmere, seven miles from the spot where the mischief

376 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

was done. We sent by the coach for a chaise to take us
to Rydal, and hired a cafrt to take the broken gig to be
mended at Keswick.

4 The mercy was, that the violent shock from the coach
did not tear off our wheel ; for if this had been done,

J , and probably I also, must have fallen under the

hind wheels of the coach, and in all likelihood been killed.
We have since learned that the coachmen had only just
come upon the road, which is in a great many places very
dangerous, and that he was wholly unpractised in driving
four-in-hand. Pray excuse this long and minute account.
I should have written to you next day, but I waited,
hoping to be able to add that my indisposition was gone,
as I now trust it is.

4 With respectful remembrances to Lord Lonsdale, and
kindest regards to yourself and Miss Thompson, I remain,
4 Dear Lady Frederick,

4 Affectionately yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

One of the first inquiries made concerning the Poet,
after this accident, was from her late Majesty Queen
Adelaide, through Lord Howe.

To Henry Reed, Esq., Philadelphia.

'Rydal Mount, Jan. 13, 1841.
4 My dear Mr. Reed,

4 It is gratifying to learn that through your means Mr.
Allston has been reminded of me. We became acquainted
many years ago through our common friend Mr. Cole-

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 377

ridge, who had seen much of Mr. Allston when they were
both living at Rome.*

4 You mention the Sonnet I wrote upon Haydon's pic-
ture of the Duke of Wellington. I have known Haydon,
and Wilkie also, from their contemporaneous introduction
to the world as artists ; their powers were perceived and
acknowledged by my lamented friend Sir George Beau-
mont, and patronized by him accordingly ; and it was at
his house where I first became acquainted with them both.
Haydon is bent upon coming to Rydal next summer, with
a view to paint a likeness of me, not as a mere matter-of-
fact portrait, but one of a poetical character, in which he
will endeavour to place his friend in some favourite scene
of these mountains. I am rather afraid, I own, of any
attempt of this kind, notwithstanding my high opinion of
his ability ; but if he keeps in his present mind, which I
doubt, it will be in vain to oppose his inclination. He is

* [What follows in continuation of this passage respecting the
late Mr. Allston, has an interest for the American reader espe-
cially :

'Mr. Allston, had he remained in London, would have soon
made his way to public approbation ; his genius and style of
painting were too much above the standard of taste, at that time
prevalent, to be duly acknowledged at once, by the many ; but so
convinced am I that he would have succeeded in obtaining general
admiration, that I have ever regretted his speedy return to his
native country, not so much that we have lost him (for that feeling
would be more than counterbalanced by what America has gain-
ed) as because, while living in Europe, he would have continued
to be more in the way of the works of the great Masters, which
could not but have been beneficial to his own powers. Let me
add, that he sometimes favours me with an opportunity of hearing
from and of him through his American friends whom he does me
the honour of introducing to me.' — H. R.]

378 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840-1841.

a great enthusiast, possessed also of a most active intel-
lect, but he wants that submissive and steady good sense
which is absolutely necessary for the adequate develop-
ment of power in that art to which he is attached.

4 As I am on the subject of painting, it may be worth
while to add, that Pickersgill came down last summer to
paint a portrait of me for Sir Robert Peel's gallery at
Drayton Manor. It was generally thought here that this
work was more successful than the one he painted some
years ago for St. John's College, at the request of the
Master and Fellows.

4 There has recently been published in London a vol-
ume of some of Chaucer's tales and poems modernized.
This little specimen originated in what I attempted with
the " Prioress's Tale ; " and if the book should find its
way to America, you will see in it two further specimens
from myself. I had no further connection with the publi-
cation than by making a present of these to one of the
contributors. Let me, however, recommend to your no-
tice the " Prologue," and the "Franklin's Tale;" they
are both by Mr. Home, a gentleman unknown to me, but
are, the latter in particular, very well done. Mr. Leigh
Hunt has not failed in the " Manciple's Tale," which I
myself modernized many years ago ; but, though I much
admire the genius of Chaucer as displayed in this perform-
ance, I could not place my version at the disposal of the
editor, as I deemed the subject somewhat too indelicate,
for pure taste, to be offered to the world at this time of
day. Mr. Home has much hurt this publication by not
abstaining from the " Reve's Tale;" this, after making
all allowance for the rude manners of Chaucer's age, is
intolerable, and by indispensably softening down the inci-
dents, he has killed the spirit of that humour, gross and
farcical, that pervades the original. When the work was

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 379

first mentioned to me, I protested as strongly as possible
against admitting any coarseness or indelicacy ; so that
my conscience is clear of countenancing aught of .that
kind. So great is my admiration of Chaucer's genius, and
so profound my reverence for him as an instrument in the
hands of Providence for spreading the light of literature
through his native land, that, notwithstanding the defects
and faults in this publication, I am glad of it, as a mean
for making many acquainted with the original who would
otherwise be ignorant of everything about him but his
name. *

4 1 shall always, dear Sir, be happy to hear from you ;
and believe me to be ever faithfully and gratefully,
1 Yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

* [The volume here alluded to, entitled ' The Poems of GEOF-
FREY CHAUCER, modernized. London, 1841,' has on its title-page
the following motto :

' That noble Chaucer, in those former times,
Who first enriched our English with his rhymes,
And was the first of ours that ever broke
Into the Muse's treasures, and first spoke
In mighty numbers ; delving in the mine
Of perfect knowledge. — WORDSWORTH.'

Not recognising the quotation, I was led 'to inquire of Mr.
Wordsworth respecting it, and received from him the following
explanation, ' The motto you inquire after in the modernized
Chaucer, is by Drayton : it was in the MS. which I sent without
noticing from what author it was taken.' Letter to H. R., March 1,
1842. — The error is mentioned here, not orily to guard against
misapprehension as to the authorship of the motto, but also as a
curious illustration of the resemblance which may exist in the
diction of two great Poets, using English words at an interval of
two hundred years. The general similarity of style is such, that
the mistake of the accomplished editor of the ' Chaucer Modern-
ized' is not surprising under the circumstances. — H R.]

380 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

To John Peace, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, Jan. 19, 1841.
1 My dear Mr. Peace,

4 It is an age since I heard from you, or of you. Proba-
ably I am a letter, or more than one in your debt ; but for
many reasons I am a bad correspondent, as you know,
and will, I doubt not, excuse. I have no especial reason
for writing at this moment of time, but I have long wished
to thank you for the '•''Apology for Cathedrals" which I
have learned is from your pen. The little work does you
great credit ; it is full of that wisdom which the heart and
imagination alone could adequately supply for such a sub-
ject ; and is, moreover, very pleasingly diversified by
styles of treatment all good in their kind. I need add no
more than that I entirely concur in the views you take :
but what avails it ? the mischief is done, and they who
have been most prominent in setting it on foot will have to
repent of their narrow comprehension ; which, however, is
no satisfaction to us, who from the first foresaw the evil
tendency of the measure.

4 Though I can make but little use of my eyes in writing
or reading, I have lately been reading Cowper's " Task"
aloud ; and in so doing was tempted to look over the par-
allelisms, for which Mr. Southey was in his edition indebted
to you. Knowing how comprehensive your acquaintance
with poetry is, I was rather surprised that you did not no-
tice the identity of the thought, and accompanying illustra-
tions of it, in a passage of Shenstone's Ode upon Rural
Elegance, compared with one in " The Task,"1 where
Cowper speaks of the inextinguishable love of the country

1 Book iv. ' It is a flame,' &c., compared with Shenstone's Ode
to the Duchess of Somerset, ' Her impulse nothing may restrain.'

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 381

as manifested by the inhabitants of cities in their culture
of plants and flowers, where the want of air, cleanliness,
and light, is so unfavourable to their growth and beauty.
The germ of the main thought is to be found in Horace :

" Nempe inter varias nutritur sylva columnas,
Laudaturque domus longos quae prospicit agros ;
Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret."

Lib. i. epist. 10, v. 22.

1 Pray write to me soon.

' Ever, my dear friend,

4 Faithfully, your obliged,

*WM. WORDSWORTH.'

< 12, North Parade, Bath, April 19, 1841.
1 My dear Mr. Peace,

4 Here I am and have been since last Wednesday
evening. I came down the Wye, and passed through
Bristol, but arriving there at the moment the railway train
was about to set off, and being in the company of four
ladies (Miss Fenwick, and Mrs. Wordsworth, and my
daughter and niece), I had not a moment to spare, so
could not call on you, my good friend, which I truly re-
gretted. Pray spare an hour or two to come here, and
then we can fix a day, when, along with my daughter, I
can visit Bristol, see you, Mr. Cottle, and Mr. Wade.

4 All unite in kindest regards.

4 Ever yours, •

4Wn. WORDSWORTH.'

'Bath, May 11, 1841.
4 My dear Mr. Peace,

4 This morning my dear daughter was married in St.
James's in this place.

382 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

4 To-morrow we leave Bath for Wells, and thence to
the old haunts of Mr. Coleridge, and myself, and dear
sister, about Alfoxden.

1 Adieu,

4W. W.'

Edward Quillinan, Esq., to whom Dora Wordsworth
was married, is eldest son of John Quillinan, Esq., mer-
chant of Oporto. He was born at Oporto, on the 12th
August, 1791. He was at school for a short time at
Sedgley Park, in Staffordshire ; then, for some years, at
Bornheim House, Carshalton, at that time a Dominican
College. He went to Oporto, to his father, in 1607. The
English residents were driven from Portugal two or three
months afterwards by the approach of the French. Mr.
Quillinan entered the army as cornet by purchase, in the
2d Dragoon Guards (Queen's Bays), in 1808. In 1809
he was with the Walcheren expedition, and witnessed the
bombardment of Flushing, from the Scheldt, for the cav-
alry were not disembarked. He purchased a lieutenancy
in the 23d Light Dragoons on their return from Talavera,
and subsequently exchanged into the 3d Dragoon Guards ;
and joined that regiment, near St. Sebastian, in Spain, in
1813, and was with it throughout the campaign of 1814,
which ended with the war the same year at Toulouse. He
received a medal of honour for that day. In 1817, Mr.
Quillinan married Jemima A. D. Brydges, second daughter
of Sir Egerton Brydges, Bart., of Denton Court, near
Dover, by his first wife. He afterwards joined his regi-
ment in Ireland, and was with it for some time in Scotland.
In 1S20-21 he was quartered at Penrith, and then first be-
came personally acquainted with Mr. Wordsworth, of whose
works he had been a constant admirer, through evil and

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

good report, during his life in the army. This year, 1821,
he quitted the service, and settled in the vale of Rydal, in
a house taken for him by Mr. Wordsworth, for the sake of
whose society, even more than for the beauty of the dis-
trict, he became a resident at the lakes. He made an
excursion in this year with Mr. Wordsworth to Fountain's
Abbey, Bolton Priory, York, &c., returning by the York-
shire Caves and Craven country. Mrs. Quillinan died in
1822, at the cottage, Rydal (now Mr. Ball's, but much
enlarged by him), six months after the birth of her second
child, both daughters. Her monument in Grasmere church
was designed by Sir F. Chantrey, and executed at his
house in Eccleston street, under the superintendence of
Allan Cunningham. The first six lines of the inscribed
verse were written by Mr. Wordsworth.*

Mr. Quillinan's two daughters by this marriage had
been connected from infancy with Mr. Wordsworth as a
poet, when Dora Wordsworth became to them as a mother.
His beautiful lines to a Portrait 1 were suggested by a
picture of the elder ; and the younger was an object of
special interest to him as his godchild.2

' Rotha! ray spiritual child, this head was grey
When at the sacred font for thee I stood.'

Mr. Quillinan, at the request of his brother-in-law,
Colonel Brydges Barrett, of the Grenadier Guards, then
left Westmoreland to reside at Lee Priory, the seat of
that gentleman, near Canterbury, whose family were
abroad, and who was for the most part in London or else-
where, with his regiment. Here Mr. Q. received more
than one visit from Mr. Wordsworth, and the several

1 Vol. i\r. p. 249. See above, Vol. I. p. 27. 2 Vol. ii. p. 305.
* [See the inscription at the end of this chapter. — H. R.]

1384 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

members of his family. Soon after the return of Sir
E. B.'s family from the continent, to reside at Lee, Mr.
Quillinan went to Portugal to visit his father, and on his
return took a house in town, where he was occasionally
visited by Mr. Wordsworth and his family, by whom he
also often was received at Rydal. Mr. Quillinan was
married 1841, to Dora, Mr. Wordsworth's only daughter,
at Bath, where her father and mother and brothers were
with her, on a visit to a very dear friend. After a short
tour in Somersetshire, partly with her father and mother
and Miss F., Mr. and Mrs. Q. went to pass some weeks at
Rydal Mount. Afterwards they removed to Canterbury
for a few months, and then to London. In the winter of
1 843 - 44 they returned to live near Rydal. In April 1 845,
it was recommended that a more genial climate should be
sought in the south for the benefit of Mrs. Quillinan's
health, which had long been very delicate. Mrs. Quil-
linan has described their residence at Oporto, and visit to
Lisbon, and to the places of chief interest on the southern
coast, including also Seville and the Alhambra, in her
published Journal on ' Portugal, Spain,' &/c.* They

* [The full title of this work is ' Journal of a few Months'
Residence in Portugal, and Glimpses of the South of Spain ; in
two Volumes. London, 1847.' It has this simple dedication,
' These Notes are dedicated in all reverence and love to my Father
and Mother, for whom they were written.'

The following passage is in the Preface. ' * * The shores of
Minho and of the Douro, as well as of the Tagus, so long called
"the home-station" of our navy, are now easy of access as the
Banks of the Rhine ; and almost the whole length of the inland
country, from Braganza to Faro, has to most of our travellers
who have been everywhere else, the grand recommendation of
being new. It is to this " great fact," the possibility of finding
novelty even yet in the Old World, and in a quarter within three
days' voyage from the Isle of Wight, that I would call their atten-

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 385

came home via Marseilles and Paris in the summer of
1846, having, as they fondly believed (alas ! that hope
was of very brief duration) fully succeeded in the object
for which they went, Mrs. Quillinan's restoration to health.

tion, and not theirs only, but that also of ramblers from the New
World, the countrymen of Prescott and Washington Irving, of
whom every year brings so many to the Mediterranean side of
Spain, yet so few to this, the Atlantic shore of Spain and western-
most coast of Europe — a shore which ought particularly to inter-
est all Americans — for hither swam Columbus from his burning
ship, here he found a home and a wife, and here he meditated
and prepared his plan of discovery long before Isabella's patron-
age enabled him to realize it. Here, too, Martin Boehm found
patronage ; here Magellan and Alvares Cabral were born ; and
here, in the service of King Emanuel, died Americus, the man
from whom half the globe so strangely received a name.' Pre-
face, p. lii.

The following passage is added for the sake of the deeper inter-
est given to it by the death of the author :

* * ' If it were for no higher motive than to give myself an
opportunity to express private feelings of respect and gratitude to
an English Chaplain abroad, for public services faithfully and
diligently performed in trying times, through a series of years,
I could not leave Oporto without naming our own dear Church,
where for so long a time we heretics have been permitted to offer
up our prayers and join in the simple rites of our Church, undis-
turbed by the jibes or threats of those who bear rjile in the land.
There is nothing attractive in the appearance of the building, as
may be inferred from the conditions under which permission was
obtained for its erection, viz., that it should not look like a church
either within or without, and must not aspire to tower, belfry, or
bell — none of which it possesses — but the situation partly makes
up for these deficiencies ; and Nature, with her never-failing
bounty, has in the chapel-yard supplied "pillars" of lime-trees,
whose branches " have learned to frame a darksome aisle ; " and
soothing it is to repose for a while under the cool green shade of
these aisles, before entering the little chapel where you are too
often oppressed by heat and glare.' Vol. i. p. 241. — H. R.]

VOL. ii. 25

386 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841.

They then returned to the neighbourhood of Rydal. To
the inexpressible grief of her husband, father, mother,
brothers, and friends, Dora Quillinan died in 1847, little
more than a year after her return to her native vale.

Mr. Quillinan is the author of ' The Conspirators,' a
series of Tales on the Philadelphian Plots in Napoleon's
Armies ; and also of various Reviews, chiefly on foreign
literature ; and of many poems, most of which are in
manuscript, and among them a translation in 8va rima, of
the first half (or five cantos) of the Lusiad of Camoens.
He is at present engaged on a Translation of the History
of Portugal, by Sr. Herculano, Librarian to the King.
This work, of which only three or four volumes are yet
published, is so elaborately and ably written by the Por-
tuguese author as to lessen regret for the non-accomplish-
ment of Mr. Southey's long-meditated work on the same
subject.

[The monumental inscription referred to above is as follows —
the first six lines of the verse being by Wordsworth :

' In the burial-ground of the church are deposited the remains
of Jemima Ann Deborah, second daughter of Sir Egerton Brydges>
of Denton Court, Kent, Bart. She departed this life, at the Ivy
Cottage, Rydal, May 25, 1822, aged 28 years. This memorial is
erected by her husband, Edward Quillinan.

These vales were saddened with no common gloom,
"When good Jemima perished in her bloom ;
When such the awful will of Heaven, she died
By flames breathed on her from her own fireside.
On earth we dimly see, and but in part
We know, yet faith sustains the sorrowing heart.
And she, the pure, the patient, and the meek,
Might have fit epitaph, could feelings speak :
If words could tell and monuments record,
How treasures lost are inwardly deplored,

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1840, 1841. 387

No name by grief's fond eloquence adorned,

More than Jemima's would be praised and mourned j

The tender virtues of her blameless life,

Bright in the daughter, brighter in the wife ;

And in the cheerful mother brightest shone —

That light hath passed away — the will of God be done.'

'Notes of a Tour, &c. 1827,' in Hone's ' Table-Book,' Vol. m.
p. 280. — H. E.]

CHAPTER LVII.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843.

To the Rev. Dr. Wordsworth, Master of Trinity
College, Cambridge.

4 My dear Brother,

4 Your affectionate and generous kindness to your, I
trust, deserving niece, has quite overpowered me and her
mother, to whom I could not forbear communicating the
contents of your letter.'

The above relates to an act of kindness which the
late Master of Trinity had the happiness of performing,
on the occasion of Dora Wordsworth's marriage.

The following refers to a serious accident which oc-
curred to him at Cambridge, by a fall from his horse.

' Feb. 16, 1841.
4 My dear Brother,

* The good accounts which we ' receive from time to
time of your progress towards perfect recovery from your
late severe accident, embolden me to congratulate you in
my own name, and the whole of my family.

4 It remains now for us to join heartily, as we all do, in
expressing a wish that, being convalescent, you would not
be tempted to over-exert yourself. I need scarcely add,

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 389

that we all unite with you and your sons, with Susan, and
your other relations, and all your friends, in fervent thanks
to Almighty God for His goodness in preserving you.

* As a brother I feel deeply ; and regarding your life as
most valuable to the community, I the more rejoice in the
prospect of your life being prolonged.

* Believe me, my dear Brother,

4 Most affectionately yours,
4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, Ambleside, Aug. 16, 1841.
4 My dear Mr. Reed,

4 1 have lately had the pleasure of seeing, both in Lon-
don and at my own house, the Bishop of New Jersey.
He is a man of no ordinary powers of mind and attain-
ments, of warm feelings and sincere piety. Indeed, I
never saw a person of your country, which is remarkable
for cordiality, whose manner was so thoroughly cordial.
He had been greatly delighted with his reception in Eng-
land, and what he had seen of it both in art and nature.
By the by, I heard him preach an excellent sermon in
London. I believe this privilege is of modern date. The
Bishop has furnished me with his funeral* sermon upon
Bishop White, to assist me in fulfilling a request which
you first made to me, viz., that I would add a Sonnet to
my Ecclesiastical Series, upon the union of the two Epis-
copal churches of England and America.1 I will en*
deavour to do so, when I have more leisure than at

1 Dr. Seabury was consecrated bishop (of Connecticut) by
Scottish bishops at Aberdeen, on the 14th November, 1784. Dr.
White and Dr. Provoost were consecrated bishops (of Pennsyl-
vania and of New York), at Lambeth, 4th February, 1787.

390 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841 - 1843.

present, this being the season when our beautiful region
attracts many strangers, who take up much of my time.

4 Do you know of ? She has just sent me,

with the highest eulogy, certain essays of . Our

and he appear to be what the French used to call

esprits forts, though the French idols showed their spirit
after a somewhat different fashion. Our two present
Philosophes, who have taken a language which they
suppose to be English for their vehicle, are verily " par
nobile fratrum," and it is a pity that the weakness of our
age has not left them exclusively to this appropriate
reward — mutual admiration. Where is the thing which
now passes for philosophy at Boston to stop ?

' Ever faithfully yours,

1 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To John Peace, Esq.

Rydal Mount, Sept. 4; 1841.
4 My dear Peace,

4 Mrs. W. is quite well. We were three months and as
many weeks absent before we reached our own home
again. We made a very agreeable tour in Devonshire,
going by Exeter to Plymouth, and returning along the
coast by Salisbury and Winchester to London. In Lon-
don and its neighbourhood we stayed not quite a month.
During this tour we visited my old haunts, at and about
Alfoxden and Netherstowey, and at Coleorton, where we
stayed several days. These were farewell visits for life,
and of course not a little interesting.

4 Ever faithfully yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 391

The following is to one of his nephews, a son of the
Master of Trinity, who had resigned the headship of that
College in the summer.

1 Rydal, Nov. 5, 1841.

4 My dear C ,

4 Your father left us yesterday, having been just a week
under our roof. The weather was favourable, and he
seemed to enjoy himself much. His muscular strength,
as proved by the walks we took together, is great. One
day we were nearly four hours on foot, without resting,
and he did not appear in the least fatigued.

4 We all thought him looking well, and his mind appears
as active as ever. It was a great delight to us to see him
here.

1 He was anxious to see Charles ; he will reach Win-
chester this afternoon, I hope without injury.

'Yours, &c.,

4 W. W.'

To John Peace, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, Feb. 23, 1842.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 was truly pleased with the receipt of the letter which
you were put upon writing by the perusal of my Penal
Sonnets1 in the l4 Quarterly Review." Being much en-

1 Sonnets on the Punishment of Death, Vol. iv. pp. 265-272,
which were reviewed in the Quarterly, in an article ascribed to
the pen of a person distinguished as a poet and an essayist.*

* [This article has been republished (in part) by its author, in
1 Notes from Books by Henry Taylor, author of Philip Van Arte-
velde.'-H. R.

392 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843.

gaged at present, I might have deferred making my
acknowledgments for this and other favours (particularly
your " Descant") if I had not had a special occasion for
addressing you at this moment. A Bristol lady has kindly
undertaken to be the bearer of the walking-stick which I
spoke to you of some time since. It was cut from a holly-
tree planted in our garden by my own hand.

1 Your Descant amused me, but I must protest against
your system, which would discard punctuation to the extent
you propose. It would, I think, destroy the harmony of
blank verse when skilfully written. What would become
of the pauses at the third syllable followed by an and, or
any such word, without the rest which a comma, when
consistent with the sense, calls upon the reader to make,
and which being made, he starts with the weak syllable
that follows, as from the beginning of a verse ? I am sure
Milton would have supported me in this opinion. Thom-
son wrote his blank verse before his ear was formed as it
was when he wrote the " Castle of Indolence," and some
of his short rhyme poems. It was, therefore, rather hard
in you to select him as an instance of punctuation abused.

4 I am glad that you concur in my view on the Punish-
ment of Death. An outcry, as I expected, has been raised
against me by weak-minded humanitarians. What do you
think of one person having opened a battery of nineteen
fourteen-pounders upon me,i. e. nineteen sonnets, in which
he gives himself credit for having blown me and my sys-
tem to atoms ? Another sonneteer has had a solitary shot
at me from Ireland.

4 Ever faithfully yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

In the summer of 1842, Mr. Wordsworth resigned his

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 393

office of Stamp Distributor ; not, however, on a retiring
pension, as has been sometimes asserted. In a letter,
dated March 2, 1840, and addressed to Lord Morpeth, he
says, 4 I never did seek or accept a pension from the pres-
ent or any other administration, directly or indirectly.*
But the duties, and also the emoluments, of the Distribu-
torship were transferred to his son William, who had, for
some time, acted as his deputy at Carlisle.

The office vacated by Mr. Wordsworth was worth rather
more than 500Z. a year, but since that time its value has
been greatly reduced in consequence of various public
alterations in the official arrangments.

In connection with this subject, Mr. Wordsworth received
the following letter from the Prime Minister :

' Whitehall, Aug. 1, 1842.
4 My dear Sir,

4 Allow me to assure you that I had the greatest personal
satisfaction in promoting the arrangement to which you
refer.

4 It is some compensation for the severe toil and anxiety
of public life to have, occasionally, the opportunity of
serving or gratifying those who are an honour to their
country.

4 My son speaks with the greatest delight of the means
he has had of recommending himself to your kind notice.

4 With cordial wishes that every blessing may attend
your remaining years,

4 Believe me, my dear Sir,

4 Most faithfully yours,

4 ROBERT PEEL.'

This was soon afterwards followed by another commu-
nication from the same quarter.

394 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843.

s

' Whitehall, Oct. 15, 1842.
4 My dear Sir,

1 1 trust you will permit me to exercise in your favour a
privilege which office confers, and which will, so exercised,
give to its possessor unalloyed satisfaction.

4 It is my duty to recommend to Her Majesty the appro-
priation of a limited fund which Parliament has placed at
the disposal of the Crown, on the condition, that it shall be
applied to the reward and encouragement of public ser-
vice, or of eminent literary or scientific merit.

4 The total amount which I have free from absolute en-
gagement does not exceed six hundred pounds per annum,
and I feel convinced that I cannot apply a moiety of that
sum in a manner more in accordance with the spirit and
intentions with which the grant to the Crown has been
made, than by placing (with your sanction) your honoured
name on the Civil List, for an annual provision of three
hundred pounds, to endure during your life.

4 1 need scarcely add, that the acceptance, by you, of
this mark of favour from the Crown, considering the
grounds on which it is proposed, will impose no restraint
upon your perfect independence, and involve no obligation
of a personal nature.

4 Believe me, my dear Sir, with true esteem,

4 Most faithfully yours,

4 ROBERT PEEL.'

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, Ambleside, Sept. 4, 1842.
4 My dear Mr. Reed,

4 A few days ago, after a very long interval, I returned
to poetical composition ; and my first employment was to

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 395

write a couple of sonnets upon subjects recommended by
you to take place in the Ecclesiastical Series. They are
upon the Marriage Ceremony, and the Funeral Service.
I have also, at the same time, added two others, one upon
Visiting the Sick, and the other upon the Thanksgiving of
Women after Childbirth, both subjects taken from the
Services of our Liturgy. To the second part of the
same series, I have also added two, in order to do' more
justice to the Papal Church for the services which she did
actually render to Christianity and humanity in the Middle
Ages. By the by, the sonnet beginning, " Men of the
Western World," &c., was slightly altered after I sent it
to you not, in the hope of substituting a better verse, but
merely to avoid the repetition of the same word, " book,"
which occurs as a rhyme in " The Pilgrim Fathers."
These three sonnets, I learn, from several quarters, have
been well received by those of your countrymen whom
they most concern.*

4 Pray excuse this barren scrawl, and believe me, with
high respect, and very gratefully,

4 Yours,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.'

To John Peace, Esq.

'Sydal Mount, Dec. 12, 1842.
4 My dear Mr. Peace,

4 Poor Mr. Wade ! From his own modest merits, and
his long connection with Mr. Coleridge, and with my early

* [la a previous letter Mr. Wordsworth had thus referred to
these poems, — ' I have sent you three sonnets upon certain
" Aspects of Christianity in America," having, as you will see, a
reference to the subject upon which you wished me to write. I wish

396 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843.

Bristol remembrances, he was to me an interesting person.
His desire to have my address must have risen, I think,
from a wish to communicate with me upon the subject of
Mr. Allston's valuable portrait of Coleridge. Pray tell
me what has, or is likely to, become of it. I care com-
paratively little about the matter, provided due care has
been taken for its preservation, and in his native country,
It would be a sad pity if the late owner's intention of
sending it to America be fulfilled. It is the only likeness
of the great original that ever gave me the least pleasure ;
and it is, in fact, most happily executed, as every one who
has a distinct remembrance of what C. was at that time
must with delight acknowledge, and would be glad to
certify.*

4 Ever faithfully your friend,

1W. WORDSWORTH.'

they had been more worthy of the subject j I hope, however, you
will not disapprove of the connection which I have thought myself
warranted in tracing between the Puritan fugitives and Episcopacy.'
Letter to H. R., < Rydal Mount, March 1, 1842.' —H. R.]

* [The high opinion which "Wordsworth entertained of this por-
trait, and the interest he felt in the disposal of it, were thus ex-
pressed in a letter of the next year : — ' The account you give of
my old Friend, for so I will presume to call him, Mr. Allston, was
very gratifying to me. As I believe you know, we were made
acquainted through Mr. Coleridge, who had lived in much inti-
macy with Mr. Allston at Rome. There is a most excellent por-
trait of Coleridge by Allston, about which I am very anxious j
not knowing what will become of it, the late owner, Mr. Wade,
for whom it was painted, being dead. My wish was, as I express-
ed to him a year and a half ago, that he should bequeath the
portrait to Mr. Coleridge's only daughter for her life, to go after
her day, to the Fitzwilliam Museum at Cambridge, or the College
in that University where he was educated. But I have no know-

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 397

The following is to one of his nephews :

'Rydal, March 22, 1843.
' My dear C ,

4 The papers will have informed you, before you receive
this, of poor dear Southey's decease. He died yesterday
morning about nine o'clock. Some little time since, he
was seized with typhus fever, but he passed away without
any outward signs of pain, as gently as possible. We
are, of course, not without sadness upon the occasion,
notwithstanding there has been, for years, cause why all
who knew and loved him should wish for his deliverance.

' I am, my dear C ,

' Your affectionate uncle,

4 And faithful friend,

CW. WORDSWORTH.

' We have been reading with very much pleasure
dear Charles's book, which 'he kindly sent us the other
day.'

ledge that he acted upon this advice. His own inclination was to
send the picture to the painter. I respected that inclination, and
was well aware that Mr. Allston would prize 'it much for his
deceased friend Coleridge's sake. I knew also that Mr. Coleridge
had many ardent admirers in America ; nevertheless, I could not
suppress a wish that it should remain in England, it is so admira-
ble a likeness of what that great and good man then was, both as
to person, feature, air and character, and moreover, though there
are several pictures of him in existence, and one by an Artist
eminent in his day, viz., Northcote, there is not one in the least
to be compared to this by Mr. Allston.' Letter to H. R. in 1843.
See also on this subject the letter to Sir G. Beaumont, June 3,
1805, in Chap. xxin. Vol. I. p. 308, of these ' Memoirs.' — H. R.]

398 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843.

To Lieutenant General Sir. Wm. GommS

'Rydal Mount, March 24, 1843.
4 My dear Sir William,

4 Nothing should have prevented my answering your
kind letter from the Cape, long ago, but the want of
matter that seemed worth sending so far, unless I confined
myself to what you must be well assured of, my sincere
esteenrand regard for yourself and Lady Gomm, and the
expression of good wishes for your health and happiness.
I am still in the same difficulty, but cannot defer writing
longer, lest I should appear to myself unworthy of your
friendship or respect.

4 You describe the beauties of Rio Janeiro in glowing
colours, and your animated picture was rendered still
more agreeable to me, by the sight which I had enjoyed a
little before, of a panorama of the same scene, executed
by a friend of mine, who in his youth studied at the
academy with a view to practise painting as a profession.
He was a very promising young artist, but having a
brother a Brazilian merchant, he changed his purpose and
went to Rio, where he resided many years, and made a
little fortune, which enabled him to purchase and build in
Cumberland, where I saw his splendid portrait of that
magnificent region. What an intricacy of waters, and
what boldness and fantastic variety in the mountains ! I
suppose, taking the region as a whole, it is scarcely any-
where surpassed.

4 If the different quarters of the globe should ever
become subject to one empire, Rio ought to be the
metropolis, it is so favoured in every respect, and so

1 Now Commander-in-Chief in India, 1851.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 399

admirably placed for intercourse with all the countries of
the earth. Your approach to the Cape was under awful
circumstances, and, with three great wrecks strewn along
the coast of the bay, Lady Gomm's spirit and fortitude,
as described by you, are worthy of all admiration, and I
am sure she will sympathize with the verses I send, to
commemorate a noble exploit of one of her sex. The
inhumanity with which the shipwrecked were lately
treated upon the French coast impelled me to place in
contrast the conduct of an English woman and her
parents under like circumstances, as it occurred some
years ago. Almost immediately after I had composed my
tribute to the memory of Grace Darling, I learnt that the
Queen and Queen Dowager had both just subscribed
towards the erection of a monument to record her hero-
ism, upon the spot that witnessed it.

4 Of public news I say nothing, as you will hear every-
thing from quarters more worthy of attention. I hope all
goes on to your satisfaction, mainly so at least, in your
new government, and that the disposition which you will
have taken with you to benefit the people under your rule
has not been, nor is likely to be, frustrated in any vex-
atious or painful degree.

4 Yesterday I went over to Keswick to attend the funeral
of my excellent friend, Mr. Southey. His genius and
abilities are well known to the world, and he was greatly
valued for his generous disposition and moral excellence.
His illness was long and afflicting ; his mind almost ex-
tinguished years before the breath departed. Mr. Rogers
I have not been in communication with since I saw you in
London, but be assured I shall bear in memory your mes-
sage, and deliver it, if he and I live to meet again. And
now, my dear Sir Wm., repeating the united best good
wishes of Mrs. W. and myself, for you and Lady Gomm,

400 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843.

and for your safe return to your own country, I remain,
in the hope of hearing from you again,
4 Most faithfully

Your much obliged,

4 W. WORDSWORTH.

4 My nephew is still in the Ionian Islands.'

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, March, 27, 1843.
' My dear Mr. Reed,

4 You give me pleasure by the interest you take in the
various passages in which I speak of the poets, my con-
temporaries, who are no more : dear Southey, one of the
most eminent, is just added to the list. A few days ago I
went over to Keswick to attend his remains to their last
earthly abode. For upwards of three years his mental
faculties have been in a state of deplorable decay ; and
his powers of recognition, except very rarely and but for
a moment, have been, during more than half that period,
all but extinct. His bodily health was grievously impaired,
and his medical attendant says that he must have died
long since but for the very great strength of his natural
constitution. As to his literary remains, they must be
very considerable, but, except his epistolary correspond-
ence, more or less unfinished. His letters cannot but be
very numerous, and, if carefully collected and judiciously
selected, will, I doubt not, add greatly to his reputa-
tion. He had a fine talent for that species of composition,
and took much delight in throwing off his mind in that
way. Mr. Taylor, the dramatic author, is his literary
executor.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841-1843. 401

1 Though I have written at great, and I fear tiresome,
length, I will add a few words upon the wish you express
that I would pay a tribute to the English poets of past
ages, who never had the fame they are entitled to, and
have long been almost entirely neglected. Had this been
suggested to me earlier in life, or had it come into my
thoughts, the thing in all probability would have been
done. At present I cannot hope it will ; but it may afford
you some satisfaction to be told, that in the MS. poem
upon my poetic education, there is a whole book, of about
600 lines,1 upon my obligations to writers of imagination,
and chiefly the poets, though I have not expressly named
those to whom you allude, and for whom, and many others
of their age, I have a high respect.

4 The character of the schoolmaster, about whom you
inquire, had, like the " Wanderer," in the " Excursion,"
a solid foundation in fact and reality, but, like him, it was
also, in some degree, a composition : I will not, and need
not, call it an invention — it was no such thing ; but were
I to enter into details, I fear it would impair the effect of
the whole upon your mind ; nor could I do it to my own
satisfaction. I send you, according to your wish, the ad-
ditions to the u Ecclesiastical Sonnets," and also the last
poem from my pen. I threw it off two or three weeks
ago, being in a great measure impelled to it by the desire
I felt to do justice to the memory of a heroine, whose con-
duct presented, some time ago, a striking contrast to the
inhumanity with which our countrymen, shipwrecked
lately upon the French coast, have been treated.

4 Ever most faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

1 Prelude, book v.
VOL. n. 26

402 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1841 - 1843.

1 1 must request that " Grace Darling " may not be
reprinted. I should be much obliged if you will have the
enclosed Sonnets copied and sent to Bishop Doane, who
has not given me his address.

4 W. W.'

CHAPTER LVIII.

APPOINTMENT TO THE LAUREATESHIP.

MR. SOUTHEY departed this life on the 21st March, 1843,
and on the 3 1 st of that month Mr. Wordsworth received a
letter from the truly noble and honourable person who then
filled the office of Lord Chamberlain, informing him in
the most courteous terms, that, having the duty of taking
the pleasure of the Queen, respecting the vacant office
of Poet Laureate, he had no hesitation in coming to the
conclusion that he should best discharge that duty by
recommending that the offer of the appointment should
be made to him, and that he had received the commands
of the Queen to signify to him that Her Majesty approved
the recommendation.

To this gracious intimation Mr. Wordsworth replied as
follows :

To the Right Hon. Earl De La Warr, Lord Chamberlain.

'Rydal Mount, Ambleside, April 1, 1843.
4 My Lord,

4 The recommendation made by your Lordship to the
Queen, and graciously approved by her Majesty, that the
vacant office of Poet Laureate should be offered to me,
affords me high gratification. Sincerely am I sensible of
this honour; and let me be permitted to add, that the

404 APPOINTMENT TO

being deemed worthy to succeed my lamented and revered
friend, Mr. Southey, enhances the pleasure I receive upon
this occasion.

4 The appointment, I feel, however, imposes duties
which, far advanced in life as I am, I cannot venture to
undertake, and therefore must beg leave to decline the
acceptance of an offer that I shall always remember with
no unbecoming pride.

1 Her Majesty will not, I trust, disapprove of a determi-
nation forced upon me by reflections which it is impossi-
ble for me to set aside.

4 Deeply feeling the distinction conferred upon me, and
grateful for the terms in which your Lordship has made
the communication,

4 I have the honour to be,
4 My Lord,

4 Your Lordship's most obedient humble servant,

4 W. VV.'

He then communicates the particulars of the offer to
Lady F. Bentinck.

4 The Lord Chamberlain, in terms the most honourable,
has, with the Queen's approbation, offered me the vacant
Laureateship. Had I been several years younger, I
should have accepted the office with pride and pleasure ;
but on Friday I shall enter, God willing, my 74th year,
and on account of so advanced an age, I begged permis-
sion to decline it, not venturing to undertake its duties.
For though, as you are aware, the formal task- work of
New Year and Birth-day Odes, was abolished l when the

1 Mr. Southey's account in his Life and Correspondence renders
this statement questionable.

THE LAUREATESHIP. 405

appointment was given to Mr. Southey, he still considered
himself obliged in conscience to produce, and did produce
verses, some of very great merit, upon important public
occasions. He failed to do so upon the Queen's Corona-
tion, and I know that this omission caused him no little
uneasiness. The same might happen to myself upon
some important occasion, and I should be uneasy under
the possibility ; I hope, therefore, that neither you nor
Lord Lonsdale, nor any of my friends, will blame me for
what I have done.

4 1 was slow to send copies of " Grace Darling " about,
except to female friends, lest I should seem to attach too
much importance to the production, though it was on a
subject which interested the whole nation. But as the
verses seem to have given general pleasure, I now venture
to send the enclosed copies, one for Mr. Colvill, and the
other for my old friend Mr. O'Callaghan, begging that you
would present them at your own convenience. With the
best of good wishes, and every kind and respectful re-
membrance to Lord Lonsdale, who, we are happy to learn,
is doing so well, and also not forgetting Miss Thompson,
I remain, dear Lady Frederick,

4 Most faithfully and affectionately yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

Mr. Wordsworth's letter did not, however, deter the
Lord Chamberlain from pressing the offer upon him, with
an assurance that the duties of Laureate had not recently
extended beyond the Annual Ode, and might in his case
be considered as merely nominal, and would not in any
way interfere with his repose and retirement.

The same post brought also the following letter :

406 APPOINTMENT TO

'Whitehall, April 3, 1843.
4 My dear Sir,

4 1 hope you may be induced to reconsider your decision
with regard to the appointment of Poet Laureate.

4 The offer was made to you by the Lord Chamberlain,
with my entire concurrence, not for the purpose of im-
posing on you any onerous or disagreeable duties, but in
order to pay you that tribute of respect which is justly
due to the first of living poets.

4 The Queen entirely approved of the nomination, and
there is one unanimous feeling on the part of all who
have heard of the proposal (and it is pretty generally
known) that there could not be a question about the selec-
tion.

4 Do not be deterred by the fear of any obligations
which the appointment may be supposed to imply. I
will undertake that you shall have nothing required from
you.

4 But as the Queen can select for this honourable ap-
pointment no one whose claims for respect and honour,
on account of eminence as a poet, can be placed in com-
petition with yours, I trust you will not longer hesitate to
accept it.

4 Believe me, my dear Sir,

4 With sincere esteem,

4 Most faithfully yours,

4 ROBERT PEEL.

4 1 write this in haste, from my place in the House of
Commons.' •

These letters had the desired effect in removing the
aged Poet's scruples, and he was well pleased that the
laureate wreath should be twined round his silver hair :

THE LAUREATESPHIP. 407

' Lauru cinge volens, Melpomene, comam.'
He replied as follows :

To the Right Hon. the Earl De La Warr.

'Eydal Mount, Ambleside, April 4. 1843.
4 My Lord,

4 Being assured by your Lordship's letter, and by one
from Sir Robert Peel, both received this day, that the ap-
pointment to the Laureateship is to be considered merely
honorary, the apprehensions which at first compelled me
to decline accepting the offer of that appointment are
entirely removed.

4 Sir Robert Peel has also done me the honour of uniting
his wish with that which your Lordship has urged in a
manner most gratifying to my feelings ; so that, under
the'se circumstances, and sanctioned as the recommenda-
tion has been by Her Majesty's gracious approval, it is
with unalloyed pleasure that I accept this high distinc-
tion.

4 1 have the honour to be,
4 My Lord,

4 Most gratefully,

4 Your Lordship's

4 Obedient, humble servant,

4 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

To the Rt. Hon. Sir Robert Peel, Bart., M. P.

'Rydal Mount, Ambleside, April 4, 1843.
4 Dear Sir Robert,

4 Having since my first acquaintance with Horace borne
in mind the charge which he tells us frequently thrilled
his ear,

408 APPOINTMENT TO

" Solve senescentem mature sanus equum, ne
Peccet ad extremum,"

I could not but be deterred from incurring responsibilities
which I might not prove equal to at so late a period of life ;
but as py mind has been entirely set at ease by the very
kind and most gratifying letter with which you have hon-
oured me, and by a second communication from the Lord
Chamberlain to the same effect, and in a like spirit, I have
accepted, with unqualified pleasure, a distinction sanctioned
by her Majesty, and which expresses, upon authority en-
titled to the highest respect, a sense of the national impor-
tance of poetic literature ; and so favourable an opinion of
the success with which it has been cultivated by one, who,
after this additional mark of your esteem, cannot refrain
from again assuring how deeply sensible he is of the many
and great obligations he owes to your goodness, and who
has the honour to be,

4 Dear Sir Robert,

' Most faithfully,

4 Your humble servant,

4 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

It was a happy thing for Mr. Wordsworth's peace of
mind that the office of Poet Laureate had been accepted
by him under the condition expressed in the above corres-
pondence ; for, after this period, his lyre was almost silent ;
he wrote but little, and only on the spur of occasional im-
pulses. But it ought to be remembered, that by his earlier
poetical effusions he had earned the bays before he wore
them. He wrote laureate odes1 before he was laureate.
And those lyrical poems are more valuable, because they
were not official, but the spontaneous effusions of inspira-

1 For instance, the ' Thanksgiving Ode ' on the Peace, 1815.

THE LAUREATESHIP. 409

tion. He wrote them as the Poet Laureate of Nature,
Order, Patriotism, and Truth. l *

1 Mr. Wordsworth's appointment gave occasion to a very in-
teresting Literary Essay on the Laureates of England by Mr.
Quillinan, the perusal of which will excite a hope that the office
of Laureate may never be abolished. That office is one of the
links of the chain which binds the present to the past, none of
which can well be spared, especially in these days ; and it is a
public homage to the powers and services of Poetry as a teacher
of loyalty and patriotism.

* [The only poem composed by Wordsworth as Poet Laureate,
and published, was the Ode on the Installation of Prince Albert
as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. This ode, like
Gray's on a similar occasion in the same University, was set to
music, and so produced as part of the ceremonies of the occasion,
alluded to, in July 1847. — H. K.]

CHAPTER LIX.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, Aug. 2, 1843.
4 MY dear Mr. Reed,

1 A few days ago I received a letter from a country-
man of yours, the Rev. R. C. Waterston of Boston, com-
municating the intelligence of the death of that admirable
artist and amiable man, my old friend, Mr. Allston. Mr.
W. and I are not acquainted, and therefore I take it very
kindly that he should have given me this melancholy
information, with most interesting particulars of the last
few hours of the life of the deceased. He also sent me a
copy of verses addressed by himself to me, I presume
some little time ago, and printed in the " Christian Souve-
nir." You have probably seen the lines, and, if so, I
doubt not you will agree with me that they indicate a true
feeling of the leading characteristics of my poems. At
least I am sure that I wished them such as he represents
them to be, too partially no doubt.

4 It would give me pleasure could I make this letter, so
long due, more worthy of perusal, by touching upon any
topics of a public or private nature that might interest
you ; but beyond the assurance which I can give you, that

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 411

I and mine are and have been in good health, I know not
where to find them. This spring I have not left home for
London, or anywhere else ; and during the progress of it
and the summer I have had much pleasure in noting the
flowers and blossoms, as they appeared and disappeared
successively ; an occupation from which, at least with
reference to my own grounds, a residence in town for the
three foregoing spring seasons cut me off. Though my
health continues, thank God, to be very good, and I am
active as most men of my age, my strength for very long
walks among the mountains is of course diminishing ; but,
weak or strong in body, I shall ever remain, in heart and
mind,

4 Faithfully, your much obliged friend,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

* P. S. Mr. Southey's literary executors are making a
collection of his letters, which will prove highly interest-
ing to the public, they are so gracefully and feelingly
written.'

To Joseph Cottle, Esq.

'Nov. 24, 1843.
4 My dear Mr. Cottle,

4 You have treated the momentous subject J of Socinian-
ism in a masterly manner ; entirely and absolutely con-
vincing.

4 Believe me to remain, my good old friend,
4 With great respect,
4 Faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

1 The title of Mr. J. Celtic's work is ' Essays on Socinianism/
by Joseph Cottle. Lond. : Longmans.

412 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

To the Rev. Henry Alford.1

'Eydal Mount, Feb. 28, 1844.
4 My dear Sir,

1 1 am pleased to hear what you are about, but I am far
too advanced in life to venture upon anything so difficult
to do as hymns of devotion.

' The one of mine which you allude to is quite at your
service ; only I could wish the first line of the fifth stanza
to be altered thus :

"Each field is then a hallowed spot."

Or you might omit the stanza altogether, if you thought
proper, the piece being long enough without it.

4 Wishing heartily for your success, and knowing in
what able hands the work is,

4 I remain, my dear Sir,

4 Faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Lady Frederick Bentinck.

1 March 31, 1844.
4 My dear Lady Frederick,

4 We have known each other too long and too inti-
mately for you not to be well aware of the reasons why
I have not earlier condoled with you upon your bereave-
ment.2 I feel it deeply, and sympathize with you as
much and as truly as you possibly could wish. I have

1 This was written in answer to an inquiry whether Mr. Words"
worth had by him any hymns calculated for a collection which
I was making, and asking permission to insert his f Noonday
Hymn.' — H. A.

2 Lord Lonsdale's death.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 413

also grieved for the rest of your family and household,
and not the least for Miss Thompson, whose faithful and
strong attachment to your revered father I have, for a long
time, witnessed with delight and admiration. Through
my kind friend Mr. O'Brien, I have heard of you both ;
and in his second letter he informs me, to my great sor-
row, that Miss Thompson has been exceedingly ill. God
grant that she may soon recover, as you both will stand
in need of all your bodily strength to support you under
so sad a loss. But, how much is there to be thankful for
in every part of Lord Lonsdale's life to its close ! How
gently was he dealt with in his last moments ! and with
what fortitude and Christian resignation did he bear such
pains as attended his decline, and prepared the way for
his quiet dissolution ! Of my own feelings upon this loss
I shall content myself with saying, that as long as I retain
consciousness I shall cherish the memory of your father,
for his inestimable worth, and as one who honoured me
with his friendship, and who was to myself and my
children the best benefactor. The sympathy which I now
offer, dear Lady Frederick, is shared by my wife and my
daughter, and my son William ; and will be also partici-
pated in by my elder son, when he hears of the sad
event.

4 1 wrote to Dr. Jackson l to inquire whether the funeral
was to be strictly private, and learnt from him that it is to
be so ; otherwise I should not have deprived myself of
the melancholy satisfaction of attending. Accept, dear
Lady Frederick, my best wishes ; and be assured of my
prayers for your support ; and believe me,

' Your very affectionate friend,

* WM. WORDSWORTH.'

1 The respected Rector of Lowther, and Chancellor of the
Diocese.

414 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, 5th July, 1844.

1 In your last letter you speak so feelingly of the man-
ner in which my birthday (April 7,) has been noticed,
both privately in your country, and somewhat publicly in
my own neighbourhood, that I cannot forbear adding a
word or two upon the subject. It would have delighted
you to see the assemblage in front of our house, some
dancing upon the gravel platform, old and young, as
described in Goldsmith's travels ; and others, children I
mean, chasing each other upon the little plot of lawn to
which you descend by steps from the platform. We had
music of our own preparing ; and two sets of casual
itinerants, Italians and Germans, came in successively,
and enlivened the festivity. There were present upward
of 300 children, and about 150 adults of both sexes and
all ages, the children in their best attire, and of that happy
and, I may say, beautiful race, which is spread over this
highly favoured portion of England. The tables were
tastefully arranged in the open air l — oranges and ginger-
bread in piles decorated with evergreens and spring
flowers; and all partook of tea, the young in the open
air, and the old within doors. I must own I wish that
little commemorations of this kind were more common
among us. It is melancholy to think how little that por-
tion of the community which is quite at ease in their
circumstances have to do in a social way with the humbler
classes. They purchase commodities of them, or they
employ them as labourers, or they visit them in charity
for the sake of supplying their most urgent wants by

1 The fete was given by Miss F , then at Rydal.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 415

almsgiving. But this, alas, is far from enough ; one
would wish to see the rich mingle with the poor as much
as may be upon a footing of fraternal equality. The old
feudal dependencies and relations are almost gone from
England, and nothing has yet come adequately to supply
their place. There are tendencies of the right kind here
and there, but they are rather accidental than aught that
is established in general manners. Why should not great
landowners look for a substitute for what is lost of feudal
paternity in the higher principles of christianized human-
ity and humble-minded brotherhood ? And why should
not this extend to those vast communities which crowd so
many parts of England under one head, in the different
sorts of manufacture, which for the want of it, are too often
the pests of the social state ? We are, however, improv-
ing, and I trust that the example set by some mill-owners
will not fail to influence others.

4 It gave me pleasure to be told that Mr. Keble's Dedi-
cation of his " Praelectiones " had fallen in your way, and
that you had been struck by it.1 It is not for me to say
how far I am entitled to the honour which he has done
me, but I can sincerely say that it has been the main
scope of my writings to do what he says I have accom-
plished. And where could I find a more trustworthy
judge? 2'

4 What you advise in respect to a separate publication of
my Church Poetry, I have often turned in my own mind ;
but I have really done so little in that way, compared with
the magnitude of the subject, that I have not courage to
venture on such a publication. Besides, it would not, I
fear, pay its expenses. The Sonnets * were so published

1 See above, Chap. XLV.

* [Of the sonnets Professor Wilson had said, ' Wordsworth's

416 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

upon the recommendation of a deceased nephew of mine,
one of the, first scholars of Europe, and as good as he
was learned.* The volume did not, I believe, clear itself,
and a great part of the impression, though latterly offered
at a reduced price, still remains, I believe, in Mr. Moxon's
hands. In this country, people who do not grudge laying
out their money for new publications on personal or fugi-
tive interests, that every one is talking about, are very
unwilling to part with it for literature which is unindebted
to temporary excitement. If they buy such at all, it
must be in some form for the most part that has little to
recommend it but low price.

' And now, my dear Sir, with many thanks for the
trouble you have been at, and affectionate wishes for
your welfare,

' Believe me faithfully yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Basil Montagu, Esq.

'Rydal Mount, Oct. 1, 1844.
4 My dear Montagu,

c Absence from home has prevented my replying earlier
to your letter, which gave me much pleasure on many
accounts, and particularly as I learned from it that you
are so industrious, and to such good effect. I don't won-
der at your mention of the friends whom we have lost by
death. Bowles, the poet, still lives, and Rogers — all that
survive of the poetical fraternity with whom I have had
any intimacy. Southey, Campbell, and Gary, are no

sonnets, were they all in one book, would be the statesman's —
warrior's — priest's — sage's manual.' — Blackwood's Magazine,
Vol. XLI. p. 447.— H. *.]

* [See above, Chap. LV. — H. R.]

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 417

more. Of my class-fellows and school-fellows, very few
remain ; my intimate associates of my own college are
all gone long since. Myers my cousin, Terrot, Jones
my fellow-traveller, Fleming, and his brother Raincock
of Pembroke, Bishop Middleton of the same college — it
has pleased God that I should survive them all. Then
there are none left but Joseph Cottle, of the many friends
I made at Bristol and in Somersetshire ; yet we are only
in our 75th year. But enough of this sad subject ; let us
be resigned under all dispensations, and thankful ; for
that is our duty, however difficult it may be to perform it.
I send you the lock of hair which you desired, white as
snow, and taken from a residue which is thinning rapidly.
4 You neither mention your own health, nor Mrs. Mon-
tagu's ; I conclude, therefore, that both of you are doing
well. Pray remember me kindly to her; and believe
me, my dear Montagu, your faithful and affectionate
friend,

. WORDSWORTH.

' In speaking of our Bristol friends, I forgot to mention
John Pinney, but him I have neither seen nor heard of for
many years.'

To Professor Reed. , '•

'Nov. 18, 1844.
' My dear Mr. Reed,

4 Mrs. Wordsworth and I have been absent from home
for a month past, and we deferred acknowledging your
acceptable letter till our return. Among the places to
which we went on visits to our friends, was Cambridge,
where I was happy to learn that great improvement was
going on among the young men. They were become
much more regular in their conduct, and attentive to their

VOL. ii. 27

418 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

duties. Our host was the master of Trinity College, Dr.
Whewell, successor to my brother, Dr. Wordsworth,1 who
filled the office for more than twenty years, highly to his
honour, and resigned before he was disqualified by age,
lest, as his years advanced, his judgment might be im-
paired, and his powers become unfit for the responsibility,
without his being aware of it. This, you will agree with
me, was a noble example : may it be followed by others !

' On our return home, we were detained two hours at
Northampton, by the vast crowd assembled to greet the
Queen on her way to Burleigh House. Shouts and ring-
ing of bells there were in abundance ; but these are things
of course. It did please us, however, greatly to see every
village we passed through for the space of twenty-two
miles, decorated with triumphal arches, and every cottage,
however humble, with its little display of laurel boughs
and flowers hung from the windows and over the doors.
The people, young and old, were all making it holiday,
and the Queen could not but be affected with these univer-
sal manifestations of affectionate loyalty. As I have said,
we were detained two hours, and I much regret that it did
not strike me at the moment to throw off my feelings in
verse, for I had ample time to have done so, and might,
perhaps, have contrived to present, through some of the
authorities, the tribute to my Royal Mistress. How must
these words shock your republican ears ! But you are
too well acquainted with mankind and their history, not to
be aware that love of country can clothe itself in many
shapes.

' I need not say what pleasure it would give us to see
you and Mrs. Reed in our beautiful place of abode.

' I have no wish to see the review of my poems to

1 See above, p. 391.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 419

which you allude, nor should I read it if it fell in my way.
It is too late in life for me to profit by censure, and I am
indifferent to praise merely as such.* Mrs. Wordsworth

* [The equanimity with which Wordsworth listened alike to
critical praise and censure, was shown in a letter written some
years before :

Henry Reed, Esq., Philadelphia.

* Rydal Mount, Feb. 22, 1839.

1 My dear Sir,

1 .... I had received and read the article before, the « New
York Review ' having been sent me from London [by a friend] to
whom I have been obliged in the same way occasionally. In
respect to one particular both in your letter and critique, I can
speak without diffidence or hesitation, — I mean the affectionate
tone in which you give vent to your feelings of admiration and
gratitude. " Grant me thy love, I crave no other fee," is the
concluding line of a valedictory sonnet at the close of a volume
(lately published by Mr. Moxon) consisting of my sonnets only.
This sentiment is, I assure you, predominant in my mind and
heart ; and I know no test more to be relied upon than acknow-
ledgments such as yours, provided the like have been received
from persons of both sexes, of all ages, and who have lived in
different latitudes, in widely different states of society, and in
conditions little resembling each other. Beyond what I have now
said, I feel scrupulous in expressing the gratification with which
I read your critique, being so highly encomiastic as it is : all that
I can say with confidence is, that I endeavoured to do what much
and long reflection on your part justifies you to your own mind in
saying I have done. It may amuse you to hear an odd proof that
those poems, for whose fate you entertain no doubt, are yet sub
judice elsewhere: in the "Delhi Gazette" — mark the place — a
vituperaiive article appeared not long ago upon the subject, which
was answered by another writer with great zeal and ardour, to
the entertainment no doubt of the Palankeen critics of that ener-
vating climate.

' Affectionately yours,

1 WM. WORDSWORTH.' — H. R.]

420 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843 - 1845.

will be happy to write her opinion of the portrait as you
request.

4 Believe me, my dear Mr. Reed,
4 Faithfully yours,

WM. WORDSWORTH.'

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, Ambhside, My 1, 1845.
4 My dear Mr. Reed,

4 1 have, as usual, been long in your debt, which I am
pretty sure you will excuse as heretofore. It gave me
much pleasure to have a glimpse of your brother under
circumstances which no doubt he will have described to
you. He spoke of his health as improved, and I hope it
will continue to do so. I understood from him that it was
probable he should call at Rydal before his return to his
own country. I need not say to you I shall be glad, truly
glad, to see him both for his own sake, and as so nearly
connected with you. My absence from home lately was
not of more than three weeks. I took the journey to Lon-
don solely to pay my respects to the Queen upon my
appointment to the Laureateship upon the decease of my
friend Mr. Southey. The weather was very cold, and I
caught an inflammation in one of my eyes, which ren-
dered my stay in the south very uncomfortable. I never-
theless did, in respect to the object of my journey, all that
was required. The reception given me by the Queen at
her ball was most gracious. Mrs. Everett, the wife of
your minister, among many others, was a witness to it,
without knowing who I was. It moved her to the shed-
ding of tears. This effect was in part produced, I sup-
pose, by American habits of feeling, as pertaining to a
republican government. To see a grey-haired man of

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 421

seventy-five years of age, kneeling down in a large
assembly to kiss the hand of a young woman, is a sight
for which institutions essentially democratic do not prepare
a spectator of either sex, and must naturally place the
opinions upon which a republic is founded, and the sen-
timents which support it, in strong contrast with a govern-
ment based and upheld as ours is. I am not, therefore,
surprised that Mrs. Everett was moved, as she herself
described to persons of my acquaintance, among others to
Mr. Rogers the poet. By the by, of this gentleman, now
I believe in his eighty-third year, I saw more than of any
other person except my host, Mr. Moxon, while I was in
London. He is singularly fresh and strong for his years,
and his mental faculties (with the exception of his mem-
ory a little) not at all impaired. It is remarkable that he
and the Rev. W. Bowles were both distinguished as poets
when I was a school-boy, and they have survived almost
all their eminent contemporaries, several of whom came
into notice long after them. Since they became known,
Burns, Cowper, Mason the author of " Caractacus " and
friend of Gray, have died. Thomas Warton, Laureate,
then Byron, Shelley, Keats, and a good deal later l Scott,
Coleridge, Crabbe, Southey, Lamb, the Ettrick Shep-
herd, Gary the translator of Dante, Crowe the author of
" Lewesdon Hill," and others of more or, less distinction,
have disappeared. And now of English poets, advanced in
life, I cannot recall any but James Montgomery, Thomas

1 Walter Scott
S. T. Coleridge
Charles Lamb

- died 21st Sept., 1832.
- " 25th July, 1834.
- " 27th Dec., 1834.

Felicia Remans -
Robert Southey -

" 16th May, 1835.
" 21st March, 1843.

422 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843 - 1845.

Moore, and myself, who are living, except the octogen-
arian with whom I began.

4 I saw Tennyson, when I was in London, several times.
He is decidedly the first of our living poets, and I hope
will live to give the world still better things. You will be
pleased to hear that he expressed in the strongest terms
his gratitude to my writings. To this I was far from in-
different, though persuaded that he is not much in sym-
pathy with what I should myself most value in my
attempts, viz., the spirituality with which I have en-
deavoured to invest the material universe, and the moral
relations under which I have wished to exhibit its most
ordinary appearances. I ought not to conclude this first
portion of my letter without telling you that I have now
under my roof a cousin, who some time ago was intro-
duced, improperly, I think, she being then a child, to the
notice of the public, as one of the English poetesses, in
an article of the Quarterly so entitled. Her name is
Ernmeline Fisher, and her mother is my first cousin.
What advances she may have made in latter years I do
not know, but her productions from the age of eight to
twelve were not less than astonishing. She only arrived
yesterday, and we promise ourselves much pleasure in
seeing more of her. Our dear friend Miss Fenwick is
also under our roof ; so is Katharine Southey, her late
father's youngest daughter ; so that we reckon ourselves
rich ; though our only daughter is far from us, being gone
to Oporto with her husband on account of her enfeebled
frame :' and most unfortunately, soon after her arrival, she
was seized with a violent attack of rheumatic fever caused
by exposure to the evening air. We have also been
obliged lately to part with four grandsons, very fine boys,
who are gone with their father to Italy to visit their
mother, kept there by severe illness, which sent her

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 423

abroad two years ago. Under these circumstances we
old people keep our spirits as well as we can, trusting the
end to God's goodness.

' Now for the enclosed Poem, 1 which I wrote the other
day, and which I send to you, hoping it may give you
some pleasure, as a scanty repayment for all that we owe
you. Our dear friend, Miss Fenwick, is especially desir-
ous that her warmest thanks should be returned to you for
all the trouble you have taken about her bonds. But, to
return to the verses : if you approve, pray forward them

with my compliments and thanks for his letter to .

In his letter he states that with others he is strenuously
exerting himself in endeavours to abolish slavery, and, as
one of the means of disposing the public mind to that
measure, he is about to publish selections from various
authors in behalf of humanity. He begs an original com-
position from me. I have nothing bearing directly upon
slavery, but if you think this little piece would serve his
cause indirectly, pray be so kind as to forward it to him.
He speaks of himself as deeply indebted to my writings.

1 The Poem enclosed is ' The Westmoreland Girl,' dated June 6,
1845. The text corresponds with that in the one volume edition,
with the exception of the two stanzas added in the next letter j
and in the 1st stanza 'thoughtless' has been substituted for
< simple j ' and in the 18th ' is laid ' for ' must Ire.' * — H. R.

* [Of this poem (Vol. i. p. 183) addressed to his grandchildren,
Mr. Wordsworth said in a later letter : ' The little poem, which I
ventured to send you lately, I thought might interest you, on
account of the fact as exhibiting what sort of characters our
mountains breed. It is truth to the letter.' He mentions that a
concluding stanza is added, because ' It was thought by some of
my friends that the other conclusion took the mind too much away
from the subject.' Letter to H. R. ' Rydal Mount, 31st July,
1845.' -H. R.]

424 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

4 1 have not left room to subscribe myself more
than

4 Affectionately yours,

4Wn. WORDSWORTH.'

To Professor Reed.

'Brinsop Court, Sept. 27, [1845.]
1 My dear Mr. Reed,

4 The sight of your letter was very .welcome, and its
contents proved most agreeable. It was well that you did
not forward my little poem to the party, he entertaining
the opinions he holds, and being of the character you
describe. I shall therefore be gratified if you, as you pro-
pose, write him a note, expressing that I have nothing
among my MSS. that would suit his purpose. The verses
are already printed in the new edition of my poems
(double column), which is going through the press.* It
will contain about 300 verses not found in the previous
edition. I do not remember whether I have mentioned to
you that, following your example, I have greatly extended
the class entitled " Poems of the Imagination," thinking,
as you must have done, that if imagination were predomi-
nant in the class, it was not indispensable that it should
pervade every poem which it contained. Limiting the
class as I had done before, seemed to imply, and to the
uncandid or unobserving it did so, that the faculty, which
is the primum mobile in poetry, had little to do, in the esti-
mation of the author, with the pieces not arranged under
that head. I, therefore, feel much obliged to you for

* [This was the edition of 1845 — the first edition of the poems
arranged by ^the Author in one volume. It is embellished with an
engraving of Chantrey's bust of Wordsworth, and with one of a
picture of Rydal Mount. — H. R.]

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 425

suggesting by your practice the plan which I have adopted.
In respect to the Prefaces, my own wish would be that now
the Poems should be left to speak for themselves without
them ; but I know that this would not answer for the pur-
poses of sale. They will, therefore, be printed at the end
of the volume ; and to this I am in some degree reconciled
by the matter they contain relating to poetry in general,
and the principles they inculcate. I hope that, upon the
whole, the edition will please you. In a very few in-
stances I have altered the expression for the worse, on
account of the same feeling or word occurring rather too
near the passage. For example, the Sonnet on Baptism
begins " Blest be the Church." But unfortunately the
word occurs some three or four lines just before or after ;
I have, therefore, though reluctantly, substituted the less
impressive word, "Dear be the Church." I mention this
solely to prevent blame on your part in this and a few
similar cases where an injurious change has been made.
The book will be off my hands I hope in about two
weeks.

1 Mrs. Wordsworth and I left home four days ago, and
do not intend to return, if all goes well, in less than five or
six weeks from this time. We purpose in our way home
to visit York, the cathedral of which > city has been
restored ; and then we shall go to Leeds, on a visit to our
friend Mr. James Marshall, in full expectation that we
shall be highly delighted by the humane and judicious
manner in which his manufactory is managed, and by
inspecting the schools which he and his brother have
established and superintend. We also promise ourselves
much pleasure from the sight of the magnificent church,
which, upon the foundation of the old parish church of
that town, has been built through the exertions and by the

426 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

munificence of the present incumbent, that excellent and
able man Dr. Hook, whom I have the honour of reckoning
among my friends.

4 This letter is written by the side of my brother-in-law,
who, eight years ago, became a cripple, confined to his
chair, by the accident of his horse falling with him in the
high road, where he lay without power to move either
hand or leg, but left in perfect possession of his faculties.
His bodily sufferings are by this time somewhat abated,
but they still continue severe. His patience and cheerful-
ness are so admirable that I could not forbear mentioning
him to you. He is an example to us all ; and most unde-
serving should we be if we did not profit by it. His
family have lately succeeded in persuading him to have
his portrait taken as he sits in his arm-chair. It is an
excellent likeness, one of the best I ever saw, and will be
invaluable to his family. This reminds me of Mr. Inman
and a promise which he made that he would send us a
copy of your portrait of myself. I say a promise, though
it scarcely amounted to that absolutely, but it was little
short of it. Do you think he could find time to act upon
his own wish in this matter ? in which I feel interested on
Mrs. Wordsworth's account, who reckons that portrait
much the best both as to likeness and execution of all that
have been made of me, and she is an excellent judge. In
adverting to this subject, I of course presume that you
would have no objection to the picture being copied if the
artist were inclined to do it.

4 My paper admonishes me that I must conclude. Pray
let me know in your next how Mrs. Reed and your family
are in health, and present my good wishes to her.
1 Ever, your faithful

4 And much obliged friend,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.'

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 427

[The portrait alluded to in this letter was painted by the late
Henry Inman, in the summer of 1844, at Rydal Mount.

Mr. Inman's letter, describing his professional visit, will be read
with interest, though but imperfectly representing his fine conver-
sational powers when speaking on the same subject :

lNew York, June 23, 1845.

1 My dear Sir,

' Mr. Wordsworth's reception of me, and the brief professional
and social intercourse I enjoyed with him and his excellent family,
furnish me with none but the most pleasing recollections. He
seemed to be much gratified with your request for his portrait j
and though his house teems with tokens of regard from his
countrymen, he evidently had a peculiar value for this transat-
lantic compliment to his genius. On a fine morning (1 think it
was the 20th of August, 1844), I made my first visit to Rydal
Mount. I found the house of the Poet most delightfully situated —
a long, low cottage almost buried among trees and clustering
vines. It is built upon a small eminence, called Rydal Mount,
and behind the house the cliffs of Fairfield Fell rise in picturesque
beauty ; and from its rocky ravine issues forth a pleasing water-
fall or " Force,'' called Rydal Falls, whose waters precipitate
themselves in two sheets a few hundred yards from the house.

' Mr. Wordsworth received me with unaffected courtesy j and
my first close and technical observation of him did not fail to
note the peculiarly genial smile, which lights up a face full of
intelligence and good nature.

' I took sittings of him nearly every day, and in the presence
of Mrs. Wordsworth and his daughter, and a son (a fine looking
young man, holding some government appointment, I believe, at
Carlisle.)

' It was delightful to mark the close and kindly sympathy that
seemed to bind the aged Poet and his wife together. They had
known each other from the early period of infancy, having gone
to the same school at three years of age. She sat close at his
side, when the sittings were taken, and the good old man fre-
quently, in the course of a conversation mainly addressed to
myself, turned to her with an affectionate inquiry for her opinion
respecting the sentiment he had just expressed, and listened with
interest to her replies The Poet accompanied me

428 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

twice on my sketching excursions, and pointed out various points
of view, which seemed favourable as subjects for the pencil. In
walking over his own grounds he would pause occasionally to
invite my attention to some fine old tree, whose " verdurous torso "
(that was his phrase) chanced to strike his imagination as worthy
of remark. He would point to its gnarled and tortuous trunk
with the same gusto with which the statuary might scan a frag-
ment from the chisel of Phidias. His gallery of gems were all
from the hand of nature — the moss-covered rock, the shining
cascade, the placid lake, or splintered mountain-pinnacle seemed
each to constitute for him a prideful possession — and well they
might, for his footstep has during a long life pervaded every
marked point of interest in that picturesque region.

' When the picture was finished, he said all that should satisfy
my anxious desire for a successful termination to my labours. His
wife, son, and daughter, all declared their approval of my work.
He told me he had sat twenty-seven times to various artists, and
that my picture was the best likeness of them all. Pray excuse
this irregular and hasty scrawl, and believe me

' Your obliged and obedient servant,

<H. INMAN.

' P. S. The poem you quote is the one I heard as breathed from
the lips of the venerable poet, while the same quivering sunshine,
that first inspired his muse with those fine reflections, played in
restless lustre over his cheeks and temples. H. I.

' Professor HENRY REED, Philadelphia.'

The allusion in the postscript is to a little incident which Mr.
Inman had mentioned to me in conversation. During one of his
days at Rydal Mount his eye (sensitive to delicately beautiful
appearances of nature) caught the fine effect of light and shade
produced by sunshine and the glancing shadows of leaves upon
the lawn. He remarked it to Mr. Wordsworth, who repeated the
lines he had composed on the same phenomenon — the stanzas
beginning,

1 This lawn, a carpet all alive
With shadows flung from leaves ' —

(Vol. iv. p. 228.)

Mr. Inman indicated the poem by his recollection of one phrase

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845. 429

which appeared to have impressed itself, by its poetic beauty,
deeply on his fancy : — ' A press of sunshine ' was, he said, an
expression which still clung to his memory.

It is due to the memory of the artist that I should not withhold
the opinion, alluded to in one of the letters in this chapter, as
expressed by Mrs. Wordsworth respecting the portrait : Writing

Nov. 18, 1844, Mrs. W. said : ' I can have no hesitation

in saying, that in my opinion, and what is of more value, to my
feelings, Mr. Inman's portrait of my husband is the best likeness
that has been taken of him. And I am happy on this occasion to
congratulate you and Mrs. Reed upon the possession of so valua-
ble a treasure : at the same time I must express the obligation
I feel to the painter for having produced so faithful a record. To
this testimony I may add, that my daughter and her younger
brother (her elder is abroad and has not seen it) are as much
satisfied with the portrait of their father as I am.

' Believe me, dear Sir, with respectful regards to Mrs. Reed,
very sincerely your obliged M. WORDSWORTH.'

The following lines by the late Hartley Coleridge, the eldest son
of Wordsworth's old friend, and for many years a resident in the
neighbourhood of Rydal Mount, have a connection with the
* personal history of 1845.'

< To W. W.

ON HIS SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY.

Happy the year, the month, that finds alive
A worthy man in health at seventy-five.
Were he man no further known than loved,
And but for unremember'd deeds approved,
A gracious boon it were from God to earth
To leave that good man by his humble hearth.
But if the man be one whose virtuous youth,
Loving all Nature, was in love with truth j
And with the fervour of religious duty
Sought in all shapes the very form of beauty ; —

430 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1843-1845.

f the tuneful strain, \

light upon his brain, >

as given, and not in vain j )

Feeling the current of the tuneful strain,
Joy in his heart, and
Knew that the gift was
Whose careful manhood never spared to prune
What the rash growth of youth put forth too soon ;
Too wise to be ashamed to grow more wise ;
Culling the truth from specious fallacies j —
Then may the world rejoice to find alive
So good, so great a man at seventy-five.'
' Poems of Hartley Coleridge, London, 1851.' Vol. n. p. 160.

H. R.]

CHAPTER LX.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846.

To Professor Reed.

'Rydal Mount, Jan. 23, 1846.
4 My dear Mr. Reed,

4 1 hope to be able to send you an impression of an
engraving, from a picture of Mr. Haydon, representing
me in the act of climbing Hclvellyn. There is great
merit in this work, and the sight of it will show my
meaning on the subject of expression. This, I think, is
attained ; but, then, I am stooping, and the inclination of
the head necessarily causes a foreshortening of the fea-
tures below the nose, which takes from the likeness
accordingly ; so that, upon the whole, yours has the
advantage, especially under the circumstance of your
never having seen the original. Mrs. Wordsworth has
been looking over your letters in vain to find the address
of the person in London, through whose hands any parcel
for you might be sent. Pray take the trouble of repeating
the address in your next letter, and your request shall be
attended to of sending you my two letters upon the
offensive subject of a Railway to and through our beauti-
ful neighbourhood.

4 You will be sorry to hear that Mrs. Wordsworth and I

432 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846. ,

have been, and still are, under great trouble and anxiety.
Our daughter-in-law fell into bad health between three
and four years ago. She went with her husband to
Madeira, where they remained nearly a year; she was
then advised to go to Italy. After a prolonged residence
there, her six children, whom her husband returned to
England for, went, at her earnest request, to that country,
under their father's guidance : there he was obliged, on
account of his duty as a clergyman, to leave them. Four
of the number resided with their mother at Rome, three
of whom took a fever there, of which the youngest, as
noble a boy, of nearly five years, as ever was seen, died,
being seized with convulsions when the fever was some-
what subdued. The father, in a distracted state of mind,
is just gone back to Italy ; and we are most anxious to
hear the result. My only surviving brother, also, the late
Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, and an inestimable
person, is in an alarming state of health ; and the only
child of my eldest brother, long since deceased, is now
languishing under mortal illness at Ambleside. He was
educated to the medical profession, and caught his illness
while on duty in the Mediterranean. He is a truly amia-
ble and excellent young man, and will be universally
regretted. These sad occurrences, with others of like
kind, have thrown my mind into a state of feeling, which
the other day vented itself in the two sonnets, which Mrs.
Wordsworth will transcribe as the best acknowledgment
she can make for Mrs. Reed's and your kindness.
' Ever faithfully and affectionately yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.'

' Why should we weep or mourn, angelic boy,
For such thou wert, ere from our sight removed,
Holy and ever dutiful — beloved
From day to day, with never-ceasing joy,

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846. 433

And hopes as dear as could the heart employ
In aught to earth pertaining ? Death has proved
His might, nor less his mercy, as behoved :
Death, conscious that he only could destroy
The bodily frame. That beauty is laid low
To moulder in a far-off field of Rome :
But heaven is now, blest child, thy spirit's home.
When this divine communion which we know
Is felt, thy Roman burial-place will be
Surely a sweet remembrancer of thee.' !

1 Where lies the truth ? has man in wisdom's creed
A "piteous doom ; for respite brief,
A care more anxious, or a heavier grief?
Is he ungrateful, and doth little heed
God's bounty, soon forgotten ? or indeed
Who that lies down and may not wake to sorrow,,
When flowers rejoice, and larks with rival speed'
Spring from their nests to bid the sun good morrow ?
They mount for rapture ; this their songs proclaim,
Warbled in hearing both of earth and sky ;
But o'er the contrast wherefore heave a sigL?
Like these aspirants let us soar — our aim
Through life's worst trials, whether shocks or snares,.
A happier, brighter, purer heaven than theirs.' 8

To Professor Reed.

'February 3, 1846.
' My dear Mr. Reed,

4 1 was much shocked to find that my last had been
despatched without acknowledgment for your kindness in
sending me the admirable engraving of. Bishop White,
which I was delighted, on many accounts, to receive.
This omission was owing to the distressed state of mind
in which I wrote, and which I throw myself on your

1 Vol. v. p. 134. a Vol. iv. p. 142.

VOL. n. 28

434 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846.

goodness to excuse. I ought to have written again by
next post, but we really have been, and still are, in such
trouble from various causes, that I could not take up the
pen, and now must beg you to accept this statement as
the only excuse which I can offer. We have had such
accounts from my daughter-in-law at Rome, that her
mother and brother are just gone thither to support her,
her mother being seventy years of age.

1 Do you know anything of a wretched set of religionists
in your country, Super stitionists I ought to say, called
Mormonites, or latter-day saints ? Would you believe it ?
a niece of Mrs. Wordsworth's has just embarked, we be-
lieve at Liverpool, with a set of the deluded followers of
that wretch, in an attempt to join their society. Her name
is , a young woman of good abilities, and well edu-
cated, but early in life she took from her mother and her
connections a methodistical turn, and has gone on in a
course of what she supposes to be piety till she has come
to this miserable close. If you should by chance hear
anything about her, pray let us know.

* The report of my brother's decease, which we look for
every day, has not yet reached us. My nephew is still
lingering on from day to day.

1 Ever faithfully and affectionately yours,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

4 The print of Bishop White is noble, everything, in-
deed, that could be wished.'

Mr. Wordsworth's brother — his only surviving, brother
— whose approaching dissolution he apprehended when he
wrote the last letter, was the Rev. Christopher Wordsworth,
D. D., formerly Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, and,

PER -ONAL HISTORY, 1846. 435

after his retirement from that office in 1841, resident at Bux-
ted, Sussex, of which parish he was rector. He departed
this life on the 2d day of February, 1846, in the 72d year
of his age, and was buried in Buxted churchyard.

Some incidental notices of his life and character have
been inserted in these pages. l

His career was an active one, very different in charac-
ter, and far removed by distance, from that of his brother
William, and, consequently, their personal intercourse was
not frequent. But the feelings of the two brothers towards
each other were those of high respect and tender affection.
Dr. Wordsworth's estimate of his brother's poetry has
been already recorded. The Poet's volumes were his
constant companions, and, it is unnecessary to add, were
an exhaustless source of delight and refreshment to his
mind.

Dr. Wordsworth's literary labours were mainly of a pro-
fessional kind. In the yeur 1802, when a junior fellow of
Trinity College, Cambridge, he published c Six Letters to
Granville Sharp, Esq., respecting his remarks on the Uses
of the Definitive Article in the Greek Text of the New Tes-
tament,' a volume which was honoured with the eulogies
of Bishop Horsley and Bishop Middleton. In 1809 ap-
peared the first edition of his 4 Ecclesiastical Biography,'
in six volumes, octavo, which was reprinted in 1818, and
(with additions) in 1839, in four volumes.

The design of this work was to present an historical
view of the Church in England from the earliest times to
the Revolution, mainly in the form of lives of eminent
men. These volumes are enriched with valuable annota-
tions from the editor's pen. Frequent references to this
work will be found in the notes attached to his brother's

1 See above, Vol. I. p. 31 j Vol. II. p. 96.

436 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846.

4 Ecclesiastical Sonnets,' and in almost all the subsequent
histories of the English Church and Reformation.

In 1814, he printed two volumes of Sermons, preached,
for the most part, at Rocking. In 1810 he published two
pamphlets on the constitution of * The British and Foreign
Bible Society.'1 In 1824 and 1828 he produced two
very elaborate volumes on the authorship of Icon Basilike,
which he unhesitatingly ascribed to King Charles I. Mr.
Wordsworth's judgment on this work has been quoted
above :2 Mr. Southey's opinion coincided with it.

Dr. Wordsworth's last important literary work was his
4 Christian Institutes,' in four volumes, octavo, published
in 1837, and designed specially for the Use of Students in
the University, and Candidates for Holy Orders. These
volumes form a compendious library of English Theology,
and will be found of great value to those two classes
especially.

The present is not a proper occasion for dilating on his
exertions in co-operation with those of other valued
friends, especially the late Bishop Van Mildert, Arch-
deacon Watson, the Rev. H. H. Norris, and Joshua Wat-
son, Esq., in behalf of the Church Societies ; nor will I
do more than advert to the benefits of a permanent nature
which accrued to the important parishes of Bocking and
Lambeth, successively, during his incumbency. Nor
would it be relevant to dwell, in this place, on the results
of his public labours in the office of Master of the greatest
College in the University of Cambridge, for a period of
twenty-one years. But with reference to one important
part of his conduct in that capacity, I feel constrained, by
regard for public interests as well as by a sense of private
duty, not to omit the following communication from a per-

1 See above, p. 8. 2 See p. 135, 136.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846. 437

son, who, from his position and knowledge, is better quali-
fied than any other individual to speak on this subject, the
present able and judicious bursar of Trinity College, the
REV. FRANCIS MARTIN, who writes to me as follows :

'Trinity College, Cambridge, Dec. 17, 1850.
4 My dear Wordsworth,

4 1 have much pleasure in supplying you with some par-
ticulars respecting the management of the affairs of our
College, which especially distinguished your father's Mas-
tership. And I have no hesitation in saying, that the
great feature in his administration was the extreme libe-
rality which he advocated in the disposition of our reve-
nues ; particularly in any matter relating to the improve-
ment of the small livings in the patronage of the society,
the building of parsonage-houses, the founding and sup-
porting of parish schools, or the erection of new churches.

1 But we are most deeply indebted to him for maintain-
ing the principle, first adopted on a great scale at the
commencement of his Mastership, of largely increasing
the rents reserved in the college leases, and of running out
all leases where this principle was objected to on the part
of the lessees. I should scarcely be credited if I were to
state the pecuniary sacrifice which the Master personally,
and the Seniors in a proportionate degree, sustained by this
course ; for not only were many fines forborne entirely,
but as the increased rents did not take effect till the expi-
ration of the existing leases, the advantage was remote
and entirely prospective. The present Society are reap-
ing the benefits of these measures, and are enabled to
make great improvements in the value of their livings, and
to contemplate the adoption of the same course to a much
larger extent.

4 We are also mainly, if not entirely, indebted to Dr.

438 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846.

Wordsworth, for the erection of a new quadrangle in the
College, which accommodates more than a hundred stu-
dents. He set about this great work before he had been
Master six months, and, notwithstanding considerable diffi-
culties, and some opposition at first, his endeavours met
with complete success. By his great influence and zealous
exertions, a large sum (above 12,358Z.) ] was contributed
towards the undertaking, the whole cost of which was
50,424Z. ; and one fourth part of the rents of the apart-
ments (amounting to above 600/. per annum) has been
appropriated to the augmentation and improvement of the
ecclesiastical benefices of the College. It would be diffi-
cult to overrate the importance of this, and other means
which were adopted, all directed to the same end, namely,
of increasing the value of our livings,2 and so rendering
them worthy of the acceptance of a fellow, by which the
succession to fellowships is made more rapid, and the
number of elections more adequate to the increased num-
ber of deserving candidates ; and that, too, in a manner
most accordant with the designs of our Founder, and the
grand objects of the institution. How entirely the Master
had this matter at heart, will appear by an extract from a
letter which he wrote to the Vice-master, very soon after
his resignation of the Mastership. " I shall esteem myself
highly obliged by being permitted to offer a benefaction of

1 Including 10002. from his Majesty King George IV., and 20002.
from the corporate funds of Trinity College.

2 At the commencement of Dr. Wordsworth's mastership the
college livings were, for the most part, of very slender value.
They are sixty in number. Of these, the annual income of
twenty-nine did not exceed 1502. j and among these twenty-nine,
the value of seven was not more than 502., and the value of ten
more was not above 1002. per annum. And of the remaining
thirty-one livings about twenty did not exceed 3002. per annnum.

PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846.

five hundred pounds, as a very slight memorial of my
affection to the College, to be carried to the account of
the ' Pigott Fund,' for the augmentation of our poor vicar-
ages; a department of the society's concerns, notwith-
standing all that has been done in many past years, still
capable of additional improvement."

'Believe me, my dear Wordsworth,

4 Yours most truly,

' FRAS. MARTIN.'

[The two poems communicated in the letter of January 23,
1846, in this chapter, and described at that time as having been
very recently composed, are the last of Wordsworth's poetical
compositions referred to in these ' Memoirs.' The first of these
sonnets —the Poet's elegy on his grandchild — is placed in the last
edition in the class of ' Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces ' : the second
among the ' Evening Voluntaries.'

The last edition of ' The Poetical Works,' that of 1849-50, in
six volumes, which was completed in the last months of Words-
worth's life, contains a few other poems, bearing the date of the
same year — 1846. They are as follows :

Sonnet, ' To Lucca Giordano ' — ' Evening Voluntaries' — Vol.
iv. p. 141. (See Chap. HI. Vol. I. of these ' Memoirs.')

Sonnet, ' Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high ' —
'Evening Voluntaries' — Vol. iv. p. 141.

Sonnet, ' Illustrated Books and Newspapers.' — Vol. iv. p. 202.

Sonnet, ' To An Octogenarian.' — Vol. v. p.>21.

The lines beginning, ' I know an aged man constrained to
dwell ' — vol. v. p. 20. This poem may be regarded as a kind of
companion-picture to ' The Old Cumberland Beggar' — composed
very nearly fifty years before j and has an interest, as showing
the same poetic teaching of the sympathy "between Nature and
Nature's voiceless creatures, and the poor and forlorn among men.

Another short piece, dated 1846, recalls a yet earlier poem. In
the 'Evening Walk' (Vol. i. p. 14) composed near sixty years
before, the Poet spoke of

' The song of mountain-streams, unheard by day,'

440 PERSONAL HISTORY, 1846.

and the following lines, composed at the age of seventy-six years,
show in the aged Poet a more exquisite as well as more meditative
sensibility to the influences of nature, in listening to the night
voice of the waters in a region of mountain and lake :

' The unremitting voice of nightly streams
That wastes so oft, we think, its tuneful powers,
If neither soothing to the worm that gleams
Through dewy grass, nor small birds hushed in bowers,
Nor unto silent leaves and drowsy flowers, —
That voice of unpretending harmony
(For who what is shall measure by what seems
To be, or not to be,

Or tax high Heaven with prodigality ?)
"Wants not a healing influence that can creep
Into the human breast, and mix writh sleep
To regulate the motion of our dreams
For kindly issues — as through every clime
Was felt near murmuring brooks in earliest time ;
As at this day, the rudest swains who dwell
Where torrents roar, or hear the tinkling knell
Of water-breaks, with grateful heart could tell.'

Vol. iv. p. 233.

In the last edition the two following pieces also appeared, but
without any date of composition attached to them :

'How beautiful the Queen of Night, on high.'

Vol. v. p. 23.

And Inscription ' On the Banks of a Rocky Stream,'

' Behold an emblem of our human mind.'

Vol. v. p. 71.

See also, on the subject of Mr. Wordsworth's last sentences
prepared for the press, note in Chap. XLI., p. 116, of this volume.
— H. R.]

CHAPTER LXI.

PERSONAL HISTORY.

IN the autumn of the year 1838, the University of Dur-
ham took the lead in conferring an academic distinction
on Mr. Wordsworth, in recognition of the public services
rendered by him to the literature of his country. This
example, as has been recorded above,1 was followed in
1839, by the University of Oxford. Scotland showed a
generous disposition to pay a similar honour to a Poet
who sung her praises with affectionate rapture. This
circumstance is thus noticed by Mr. Wordsworth.

To Sir W. Gomm, fyc. fyc., Port Louis, Mauritius.

'Rydal Mount, Ambhside, Nov. 23, 1846.
4 Dear Sir William,

4 Your kind letter of the 4th of August, I have just
received ; and I thank you sincerely for this mark of your
attention, and for the gratification it afforded me. It is
pleasing to see fancy amusements giving birth to works of
solid profit, as, under the auspices of Lady Gomm, they
are doing in your island.

4 Your sonnet addressed to the unfinished monument of
Governor Malartie, is conceived with appropriate feeling

1 Page 358.

442 PERSONAL HISTORY.

and just discrimination. Long may the finished monu-
ment last as a tribute to departed worth, and as a check
and restraint upon intemperate desires for change, to
which the inhabitants of the island may hereafter be
liable !

'Before this letter reaches you, the newspapers will
probably have told you that I have been recently put in
nomination, unknown to myself, for the high office of Lord
Rector of the University of Glasgow ; and that there was
a majority of twenty-one votes in my favour, in opposition
to the premier, Lord John Russell. The forms of the
election, however, allowed Lord John Russell to be returned,
through the single vote of the sub-rector voting for his
superior. To say the truth, I am glad of this result ; be-
ing too advanced in life to undertake with comfort any
considerable public duty, and it might have seemed
ungracious to decline the office.

' Men of rank, or of high station, with the exception of
the poet Campbell, who was, I believe, educated at this
university, have almost invariably been chosen for a rector
of this ancient university ; and that another exception was
made in my favour by a considerable majority, affords a
proof that literature, independent of office, does not want
due estimation. I should not have dwelt so long upon
this subject, had anything personal to myself occurred, in
which you could have taken interest.

lAs you do not mention your own health, or that of
Lady Gomm, I infer with pleasure that the climate agrees
with you both. That this may continue to be so, is my
earnest and sincere wish, in which Mrs. Wordsworth
cordially unites.

4 Believe me, dear Sir William,
' Faithfully yours,

4 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.'

PERSONAL HISTORY. 443

In the following year, 20th Jan. 1847, Mr. William
Wordsworth, the younger son l of Mr. Wordsworth, and
his successor in the office of distributor, was married at
the .parish church of Brighton, Sussex, by the Rev. H. M.
Wagner, vicar, to Fanny Eliza Graham, youngest daugh-
ter of Reginald Graham, Esq. of Brighton, born at
Kirklinton, in the county of Cumberland.

The following spring and summer was a season of
severe affliction to the household at Rydal. As has been
already mentioned,2 the Poet's daughter, Mrs. Quillinan,
had accompanied her husband on a voyage to Portugal,
for the sake of change of air, and with the hope of
recovering her health.

The result of this experiment appeared at first to be
very favourable. Her powers of exertion were greatly
increased, and her friends rejoiced in the hope of seeing
her restored to her former health. But alas ! the expecta-
tion was very short-lived.

1 He was born at Allan Bank, May 12, 1810 ; sent to the Char-
ter House in Jan. 1820 ; * removed in consequence of ill health in
May, 1822. He remained under his father's roof in a delicate
state of health till 1829, when he went to Bremen, and in the sum-
mer of 1830 became a student at Heidelberg, where he remained
till the spring of 1831, when he was recalled to England, in
consequence of an extension of the district of the Distributorship ;
and he resided at Carlisle as Mr. Wordsworth's deputy there. In
June, 1842, Mr. Wordsworth resigned the Distributorship, and his
son William was appointed in his place. See above, p. 393.

2 Above, p. 384, 385.

* [The reader, who is familiar with Charles Lamb's letters, will
readily recall one of the most delightful and characteristic in the
collection, written in November, 1819, on the occasion of a visit
paid by ' William Minor ' to Lamb and his sister in London. —
Talfourd's ' Letters of Charles Lamb,' Chap. au. Vol. n. p. 59. —
H.E.]

444 PERSONAL HISTORY.

Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, when staying at Westminster
in April of this year, received intelligence with respect
to their daughter's health which made them break short
their visit, and hasten homeward on the 26th April.

More than two months passed away. They were
months of sadness and sorrow to them. But she who
was the object of their care was cheerful. She knew
that her end was near, and she looked steadily and calmly
at it. None of her natural courage and buoyancy failed
her, and it was invigorated and elevated by faith. She
gradually declined, and at length her spirit departed, and
she fell asleep in peace.

The event was thus announced to a relative by Mr.
Wordsworth's pen :

[Received, July 10, 1847.]
'My dearC ,

4 Last night (I ought to have said a quarter before one
this morning), it pleased God to take to Himself the spirit
of our beloved daughter, and your truly affectionate
cousin. She had latterly much bodily suffering, under
which she supported herself by prayer, and gratitude to
her heavenly Father, for granting her to the last so many
of His blessings.

4 1 need not write more. Your aunt bears up under
this affliction as becomes a Christian.

4 Kindest love to Susan, of whose sympathy we are
fully assured.

4 Your affectionate uncle, and the more so for this
affliction,

4 WM. WORDSWORTH.

4 Pray for us ! '

She lies buried in Grasmere churchyard, with the fol-
lowing inscription on her grave :

PERSONAL HISTORY. 445

' DORA QUILLINAN,
9th day of July, 1847.

" Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out." — St. John,
vi. 37.'

Mr. Wordsworth thus writes to Mr. Moxon, Aug. 9,
1847:

1 We bear up under our affliction as well as God enables
us to do. But oh ! my dear friend, our loss is immeasu-
rable. God bless you and yours.'

And again, 29th Dec. 1847 :

' Our sorrow, I feel, is for life ; but God's will be
done ! '

Again, he thus writes to Mr Peace :

1 Brigham, [Postmark, " Cocfarmouth,

Nov. 18, 1848."]
4 My dear Friend,

4 Mrs. Wordsworth has deputed to me the acceptable
office of answering your friendly letter, which has fol-
lowed us to Brigham, upon the banks of the river
Derwent, near Cockermouth, the birthplace of four
brothers and their sister. Of these four, , I, the second,
am now the only one left. Am I wrong in supposing that
you have been here ? The house was driven out of its
place by a railway, and stands now nothing like so advan-
tageously for a prospect of this beautiful .country, though
at only a small distance from its former situation.

1 We are expecting Mr. Cuthbcrt Southey to-day from
his curacy, seven or eight miles distant. He is busy in
carrying through the press the first volume of his father's
letters, or rather, collecting and preparing them for it.

446 PERSONAL HISTORY.

Do you happen to have any in your possession ? If so,
be so kind as to let me or his son know what they are, if
you think they contain anything which would interest the
public.

4 Mrs. W. and I are, thank God, both in good health,
and possessing a degree of strength beyond what is usual
at our age, being both in our seventy-ninth year. The
beloved daughter whom it has pleased God to remove
from this anxious and sorrowful world, I have not men-
tioned ; but I can judge of the depth of your fellow-
feeling for us. Many thanks to you for referring to the
text in Scripture which I quoted to you so long ago.1
" Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." He who
does not find support and consolation there, will find it
nowhere. God grant that it may be continued to me
and mine, and to all sufferers ! Believe me, with Mrs.
W.'s very kind remembrance,

' Faithfully yours,

' WM. WORDSWORTH.
0

4 When you see Mr. Cottle, pray remember us most
affectionately to him, with respectful regards to his sister.'

1 [Note by Mr. Peace.] At Rydal Mount in 1838. Ephesians,
v. 20. ' My favourite Text,' said he.

CHAPTER LX11.

REMINISCENCES.

BEFORE we enter on the closing scene of these Memoirs,
let us pause a little, and revert to an earlier period in the
narrative.

I have been favoured1 with some Reminiscences of Mr.
Wordsworth's intercourse with his neighbours at Rydal,
and they appear to furnish material for an interesting
chapter in his history, and to afford an agreeable illustra-
tion of his character in his daily habits, and to show that
the spirit of his poetry was embodied in the life of the
Poet.

I will, therefore, make some selections from these
records.

1 Lancrigg, Easedale* Aug. 26, 1841.

1 Wordsworth made some striking remarks on Goethe in
a walk on the terrace yesterday. He thinks that the Ger-
man poet is greatly overrated, both in this 'country and his
own. He said, " He does not seem to me to be a great
poet in either of the classes of poets. At the head of the
first class I would place Homer and Shakspeare, whose
universal minds are able to reach every variety of thought
and feeling without bringing their own individuality before

1 By Lady Richardson ; Mrs. Davy, of the Oaks, Ambleside ;
Rev. R. P. Graves, of the Parsonage, Windermere.
* Mrs. Fletcher's.

448 REMINISCENCES.

the reader. They infuse, they breathe life into every
object they approach, but you never find themselves. At
the head of the second class, those whom you can trace
individually in all they write, I would place Spenser and
Milton. In all that Spenser writes you can trace the gentle
affectionate spirit of the man ; in all that Milton writes you
find the exalted sustained being that he was. Now in what
Goethe writes, who aims to be of the first class, the uni-
versal, you find the man himself, the artificial man, where
he should not be found ; so that I consider him a very
artificial writer, aiming to be universal, and yet constantly
exposing his individuality, which his character was not of
a kind to dignify. He had not sufficiently clear moral
perceptions to make him anything but an artificial
writer."

4 Tuesday, the 2d of May, Wordsworth and Miss F.
came early to walk about and dine. He was in a very
happy, kindly mood. We took a walk on the terrace, and
he went as usual to his favourite points. On our return
he was struck with the berries on the holly tree, and said,
" Why should not you and I go and pull some berries from
the other side of the tree, which is not seen from the win-
dow ? and then we can go and plant them in the rocky
ground behind the house." We pulled the berries, and
set forth with our tool. I made the holes, and the Poet
put in the berries. He was as earnest and eager about it,
as if it had been a matter of importance ; and as he put
the seeds in, he every now and then muttered, in his low
solemn tone, that beautiful verse from Burns's Vision :

" And wear thou this, she solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head.
The polished leaves and berries red

Did rustling play ;
And like a passing thought she fled

In light away."

REMINISCENCES. 449

He clambered to the highest rocks in the " Tom Intach,"
and put in the berries in such situations as Nature some-
times does with such true and beautiful effect. He said,
" I like to do this for posterity. Some people are selfish
enough to say, What has posterity done for me ? but the
past does much for us."

' November, 1843. — Wordsworth holds the critical power
very low, infinitely lower than the inventive ; and he said
to-day that if the quantity of time consumed in writing
critiques on the works of others, were given to original
composition, of whatever kind it might be, it would be
much better employed; it would make a man find out
sooner his own level, and it would do infinitely less mischief.
A false or malicious criticism may do much injury to the
minds of others; a stupid invention, either in prose or
verse, is quite harmless.

4 December 22d, 1843. — The shortest day is past,. and
it was a very pleasant one to us, for Wordsworth and Miss
Fenwick offered to spend it with us. They came early,
and, although it was misty and dingy, he proposed to walk
up Easedale. We went by the terrace, and through the
little gate on the fell, round by Brimmer Head, having
diverged a little up from Easedale, nearly as far as the
ruined cottage. He said, when he and his sister wandered
there so much, that cottage was inhabited by'a man of the
name of Benson, a waller, its last inhabitant. He said on
the terrace, "This is a striking anniversary to me; for this
day forty-four years ago, my sister and I took up our
abode at Grasmere, and three days after, -we found out
this walk, which long remained our favourite haunt."
There is always something very touching in his way of
speaking of his sister ; the tones of his voice become more
gentle and solemn, and he ceases to have that flow of
expression which is so remarkable in him on all other

VOL. ii. 29

450 REMINISCENCES.

subjects. It is as if the sadness connected with her pres-
ent condition, was too much for him to dwell upon in
connection with the past, although habit and the " omnipo-
tence of circumstance," have made its daily presence less
oppressive to his spirits. He said that his sister spoke
constantly of their early days, but more of the years they
spent together in other parts of England, than those at
Grasmere. As we proceeded on our walk, he happened
to speak of the frequent unhappiness of married persons,
and the low and wretched principles on which the greater
number of marriages were formed. He said that unless
there was a strong foundation of love and respect, the
u unavoidable breaks and cataracts " of domestic life must
soon end in mutual aversion, for that married life ought
not to be in theory, and assuredly it never was in practice,
a system of mere submission on either side, but it .should
be a system of mutual co-operation for the good of each.
If the wife is always expected to conceal her difference of
opinion from her husband, she ceases to be an equal, and
the man loses the advantage which the marriage tie is in-
tended to provide for him in a civilized and Christian coun-
try. He then went on to say, that, although he never saw
an amiable single woman, without wishing that she were
married, from his strong feeling of the happiness of a well
assorted marriage, yet he was far from thinking that mar-
riage always improved people. It certainly did not, unless it
was a congenial marriage. During tea, he talked with great
animation of the unfortunate separation of feeling between
the rich and the poor in this countiy. The reason of this
he thinks is our greater freedom ; that the line of demar-
cation not being so clearly laid down in this country by
the law as in others, people fancy they must make it for
themselves. He considers Christian education the only
cure for this state of things. He spoke of his own desire

REMINISCENCES. 451

to carry out the feeling of brotherhood, with regard to
servants, which he had always endeavoured to do.'

' The Oaks, Ambleside, Monday, Jan. 22, 1844.
'While1 Mrs. Quillinan was sitting with us to-day,
Henry Fletcher ran in to say that he had received his
summons for Oxford, (he had been in suspense about
rooms, as an exhibitioner at Baliol), and must be off within
an hour. His young cousins and I went down with him,
to wait for the mail in the market-place. We found Mr.
Wordsworth walking about before the post-office door, in
very charming mood. His spirits were excited by the
bright morning sunshine, and he entered at once on a full
flow of discourse. He looked very benevolently on
Henry as he mounted on the top of the coach, and seemed
quite disposed to give an old man's blessing to the young
man entering on an untried field, and then (nowise inter-
rupted by the hurrying to and fro of ostlers with their
smoking horses, or passengers with their carpet bags) he
launched into a dissertation, in which there was, I thought,
a remarkable union of his powerful diction, and his prac-
tical, thoughtful good sense, on the subject of college
habits, and of his utter distrust of all attempts to nurse
virtue by an avoidance of temptation. He expressed also
his entire want of confidence (from experience he said)
of highly-wrought religious expression in youth. The
safest training for the mind in religion he considered to be
a contemplating of the character and personal history of
Christ. " Work it," he said, " into your thoughts, into
your imagination, make it a real presence in the mind."
I was rejoiced to hear this plain, loving confession of a
Christian faith from Wordsworth. I never heard one more

1 From Mrs. Davy's notes.

452 REMINISCENCES.

earnest, more as if it came out of a devoutly believing
heart.

'The Oaks, March 5, 1844.

4 On our way to Lancrigg to-day, we called at Foxhow.
We met Mr. Wordsworth there, and asked him to go with
us. It was a beautiful day, one of his very own " mild
days" of this month. He kindly consented, and walked
with us to meet the carriage at Pelter Bridge. On our
drive, he mentioned, with marked pleasure, a dedication
written by Mr. Keble, and sent to him for his approval,
and for his permission to have it prefixed to Mr. Keble's
new volumes of Latin Lectures on Poetry, delivered at
Oxford. Mr. Wordsworth said that he had never seen any
estimate of his poetical powers, or more especially of his
aims in poetry, that appeared to him so discriminating and
so satisfactory. He considers praise a perilous and a diffi-
cult thing. On this subject he often quotes his lamented
friend, Sir George Beaumont, whom, in his intercourse
with men of genius, literary aspirants, he describes as
admirable in the modesty which he inculcated and practised
on this head.

'The Oaks, Ambleside, July 11, 1844.

4 Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth at dinner, along with our
family party. Mr. and Mrs. Price (from Rugby), two
aunts of Mrs. P.'s, and her brother, Mr. Rose a young
clergyman (a devout admirer of Wordsworth), joined us
at tea. A circle was made as large as our little parlour
could hold. Mr. Price sat next to Mr. Wordsworth, and,
by design or fortunate accident, introduced some remark
on the powers and the discourse of Coleridge. Mr.
Wordsworth entered heartily and largely on the subject.

REMINISCENCES. 453

He said that the liveliest and truest image he could give
of Coleridge's talk was, " that of a majestic river, the
sound or sight of whose course you caught at intervals,
which was sometimes concealed by forests, sometimes
lost in sand, then came flashing out broad and distinct,
then again took a turn which your eye could not follow,
yet you knew and felt that it was the same river : so," he
said, " there was always a train, a stream, in Coleridge's
discourse, always a connection between its parts in his
own mind, though one not always perceptible to the minds
of others. Mr. Wordsworth went on to say, that in his
opinion Coleridge had been spoilt as a poet by going to
Germany. The bent of his mind, which was at all times
very much to metaphysical theology, had there been fixed
in that direction. " If it had not been so," said Words-
worth, " he would have been the greatest, the most
abiding poet of his age. His very faults would have
made him popular (meaning his sententiousness and
laboured strain), while he had enough of the essentials of
a poet to make him deservedly popular in a higher sense.

4 Mr. Price soon after mentioned a statement of Cole-
ridge's respecting himself, recorded in his " Table Talk,"
namely, that a visit to the battle-field of Marathon would
raise in him no kindling emotion, and asked Mr. Words-
worth whether this was true as a token of his mind. At
first Mr. Wordsworth said, " Oh ! that was a mere bra-
vado for the sake of astonishing his hearers ! " but then,
correcting himself, he added, " And yet it might in some
sense be true, for Coleridge was not under the influence of
external objects. He had extraordinary powers of summon-
ing up an image or series of images in his own mind, and
he might mean that his idea of Marathon was so vivid,
that no visible observation could make it more so." t' A

454 REMINISCENCES.

remarkable instance of this," added Mr. Wordsworth,
" is his poem, said to be. " composed in the Vale of
Chamouni." Now he never was at Chamouni, or near it,
in his life. Mr. Wordsworth next gave a somewhat
humorous account of the rise and progress of the " An-
cient Marinere." " It arose," he said, " out of the want
of five pounds which Coleridge and I needed to make a
tour together in Devonshire. We agreed to write jointly a
poem, the subject of which Coleridge took from a dream
which a friend of his had once dreamt concerning a person
suffering under a dire curse from the commission of some
crime." " I," said Wordsworth, " supplied the crime,
the shooting of the albatross, from an incident I had met
with in one of Shelvocke's voyages. We tried the poem
conjointly for a day or two, but we pulled different ways,
and only a few lines of it are mine." From Coleridge,
the discourse then turned to Scotland. Mr. Wordsworth,
in his best manner, with earnest thoughts given out in
noble diction, gave his reasons for thinking that, as a poet,
Scott would not live. " I don't like," he said, " to say
all this, or to take to pieces some of the best reputed
passages of Scott's verse, especially in presence of my
wife, because she thinks me too fastidious ; but as a poet
Scott cannot live, for he has never in verse written any-
thing addressed to the immortal part of man. In making
amusing stories in verse, he will be superseded by some
newer versifier ; what he writes in the way of natural
description is merely rhyming nonsense." As a prose
writer, Mr. Wordsworth admitted that Scott had touched
a higher vein, because there he had really dealt with
feeling and passion. As historical novels, professing
to give the manners of a past time, he did not attach
much value to those works of Scott's so called, because
that he held to be an attempt in which success was

REMINISCENCES. 455

impossible. This led to some remarks on historical
writing, from which it appeared that Mr. Wordsworth
has small value for anything but contemporary history.
He laments that Dr. Arnold should have spent so much
of his time and powers in gathering up and putting
into imaginary shape the scattered fragments of the
history of Rome.1

4 These scraps of Wordsworth's large, thoughtful, earnest
discourse, seem very meagre as I note them down, and in
themselves perhaps hardly worth preserving ; and yet this
is an evening which those who spent it in his company
will long remember. His venerable head; his simple,
natural, and graceful attitude in his arm-chair ; his respect-
ful attention to the slightest remarks or suggestions of
others in relation to what was spoken of; his kindly
benevolence of expression as he looked round now and
then on the circle in our little parlour, all bent to " devour
up his discourse," filled up and enlarged the meaning
which I fear is but ill conveyed in the words as they are
now set down.'

Mr. Wordsworth's Birth-day.*

4 On Tuesday, April the 7th, 1844, my mother3 and I
left Lancrigg to begin our Yorkshire journey. We arrived
at Rydal Mount about three o'clock, and found the tables
all tastefully decorated on the esplanade in front of the
house. The Poet was standing looking at them with a
very pleased expression of face ; he received us very
kindly, and very soon the children began to arrive. The

1 But see Memorials of Italy ; Sonnets on Roman Historians,
vol. iii. p. 164, 165.

2 Here Lady Richardson's notes are resumed. See above, p. 414.

3 Mrs. Fletcher.

456 REMINISCENCES.

Grasmere boys and girls came first, and took their places
on the benches placed round the gravelled part of the
esplanade ; their eyes fixed with wonder and admiration
on the tables, covered with oranges, gingerbread, and
painted eggs, ornamented with daffodils, laurels, and moss,
gracefully intermixed. The plot soon began to thicken,
and the scene soon became very animated. Neighbours,
old and young of all degrees, ascended to the Mount to
keep the Poet's seventy-fourth birth-day, and every face
looked friendly and happy. Each child brought its own
mug, and held it out to be filled with tea, in which cere-
mony all assisted. Large baskets of currant cakes were
handed round and liberally dispensed ; and as each detach-
ment of children had satisfied themselves with tea and
cake, they were moved off, to play at hide-and-seek among
the evergreens on the grassy part of the Mount. The day
was not bright, but it was soft, and not cold, and the scene,
viewed from the upper windows of the house, was quite
beautiful, and one I should have been very sorry not to
have witnessed. It was innocent and gay, and perfectly

natural. Miss F , the donor of the fete, looked very

happy, and so did all the Poet's household. The children,
who amounted altogether to above three hundred, gave

three cheers to Mr. Wordsworth and Miss F . After

some singing and dancing, and after the division of eggs,
gingerbread, and oranges had taken place, we all began to
disperse. We spent the night at the Oaks, and set off on
our journey the following morning. The gay scene at the
Mount often comes before me, as a pleasant dream. It is
perhaps the only part of the island where such a reunion
of all classes could have taken place without any connec-
tion of landlord and tenant, or any clerical relation, or
school direction. Wordsworth, while looking at the gam-
bols on the Mount, expressed his conviction that if such

REMINISCENCES. 457

meetings could oftener take place between people of
different condition, a much more friendly feeling would
be created than now exists in this country between the
rich and poor.

''July 12^, 1844. — Wordsworth spoke much during
the evening of his early intercourse with Coleridge, on
some one observing that it was difficult to carry away a
distinct impression from Coleridge's conversation, delight-
ful as every one felt his outpourings to be. Wordsworth
agreed, but said he was occasionally very happy in cloth-
ing an idea in words ; and he mentioned one which was
recorded in his sister's journal, during a tour they all made
together in Scotland. They passed a steam engine, and
Wordsworth made some observation to the effect that it
was scarcely possible to divest oneself of the impression
on seeing it, that it had life and volition. "Yes," replied
Coleridge, " it is a giant with one idea."

' He discoursed at great length on Scott's works. His
poetry he considered of that kind which will always be in
demand, and that the supply will always meet it, suiteo^ to
the age. He does not consider that it in any way goes
below the surface of things ; it does not reach to any in-
tellectual or spiritual emotion ; it is altogether superficial,
and he felt it himself to be so. His descriptions are not
true to nature ; they are addressed to the ear, not to the
mind. He was a master of bodily movements in his bat-
tle scenes ; but very little productive power was exerted
in popular creations.'

Duddon Excursion.
4 On Friday, the 6th September, 1844, I set off to

458 REMINISCENCES.

breakfast, at Rydal Mount, it being the day fixed by Mr.
Wordsworth for our long-projected excursion to the Valley
of the Duddon.

'The rain fell in torrents, and it became doubtful
whether we should set off or not ; but as it was a thunder
shower, we waited till it was over, and then Wordsworth,
Mr. Quillinan, Miss Hutchinson, and I, set forth in our
carriage to Coniston, where we were to find the Rydal-
Mount carriage awaiting us with Mr. Hutchinson. Words-
worth talked very agreeably on the way to Coniston, and
repeated several verses of his own, which he seemed
pleased that Serjeant Talfourd had repeated to him the
day before. He mentioned a singular instance of T.
Campbell's inaccuracy of memory, in having actually
printed, as his own, a poem of Wordsworth's, " The Com-
plaint:" he repeated it beautifully as we were going up
the hill to Coniston. On reaching the inn in the village of
Coniston, the rain again fell in torrents. At length, the
carriages were ordered to the door, with the intention of
our returning home ; but just as they were ready, the sun
broke out, and we turned the horse's head towards Ulpha
Kirk. The right bank of Coniston was all new to me
after we passed the village, and Old Man of Coniston. The
scenery ceases to be bold and rugged, but is very pleasing,
the road passing through hazel copses, the openings show-
ing nice little corn-fields, and comfortable detached farms,
with old uncropped trees standing near them ; some very-
fine specimens of old ash trees, which I longed to trans-
port to Easedale, where they have been so cruelly lopped.
The opening towards the sea, as we went on, was very
pleasing, but the first striking view of the Duddon, was
looking down upon it soon after we passed Broughton,
where you turn to the right, and very soon after perceive

REMINISCENCES. 459

the peculiar beauty of the valley, although it does not
take its wild and dreamlike beauty till you pass Ulpha
Kirk. We reversed the order of the sonnets, and saw the
river first, " in radiant progress tow'rd the deep," instead
of tracing this "child of the clouds," from its cradle in
the lofty waste. We reached the Kirk of Ulpha between
five and six. The appearance of the little farm-house inn
at once made anything approaching to a dinner an impos-
sibility, had we wished it ever so much ; but, in due time,
we had tea and boiled ham, with two eggs apiece, and
were much invigorated by this our first Duddonian meal.
The hostess was evidently surprised that we thought of
remaining all night, so humbly did she think of the accom-
modation she had to offer. She remembered Mr. Words-
worth sleeping there fifteen years ago, because it was just
after the birth of her daughter, a nice comely girl who
attended us at tea. Mr. Quillinan showed great good
nature and unselfishness in the arrangements he made,
and the care he took of the admirable horse, which I saw
him feeding out of a tub, a manger being too great a
refinement for Ulpha.

4 After tea, although it was getting dark, we went to the
churchyard, which commands a beautiful view towards
Seathvvaite, and we then walked in that direction, through
a lane where the walls were more richly covered by moss
and fern, than any I ever saw before. A beautiful dark-
coloured tributary to the Duddon comes down from the
moors on the left hand, about a mile "from Ulpha; and
soon after we had passed the small bridge over this stream,
Mr. Wordsworth recollected a well which he had discov-
ered thirty or forty years before. We went off the road
in search of it, through a shadowy, embowered path ; and
as it was almost dark, we should probably have failed in

460

REMINISCENCES.

finding it, had we not met a very tiny boy, with a can of
water in his hand, who looked at us in speechless amaze-
ment, when the Poet said, "Is there a well here, my little
lad ? " We found the well, and then joined the road again
by another path, leaving the child to ponder whether we
were creatures of earth or air.

'Saturday morning was cloudy, but soft, and lovely
in its hazy effects. When I went out about seven, I saw
Wordsworth going a few steps, and then moving on, and
stopping again, in a very abstracted manner; so I kept
back. But when he saw me, he advanced, and took me
again to the churchyard to see the morning effects, which
were very lovely. He said he had not slept well, that the
recollection of former days and people had crowded upon
him, and, most of " all, my dear sister; and when I thought
of her state, and of those who had passed away, Coleridge,
and Southey, and many others, while I am left with all my
many infirmities, if not sins, in full consciousness, how
could I sleep ? and then I took to the alteration of sonnets,
and that made the matter worse still." Then, suddenly
stopping before a little bunch of harebell, which, along
with some parsley fern, grew out of the wall near us, he
exclaimed, " How perfectly beautiful that is !

" Would that the little flowers that grow could live,
Conscious of half the pleasure that they give." *

He then expatiated on the inexhaustible beauty of the
arrangements of nature, its power of combining in the
most secret recesses, and that it must be for some purpose
of beneficence that such operations existed. After break-
fast, we got into the cart of the inn, which had a seat

* [Vol. iv. p. 254.]

REMINISCENCES. 461

swung into it, upon which a bolster was put, in honour, I
presume, of the Poet Laureate. In this we jogged on to
Seathwaite, getting out to ascend a craggy eminence on
the right, which Mrs. Wordsworth admired : the view
from it is very striking. You see from it all the peculiari-
ties of the vale, the ravine where the Duddon " deserts
the haunts of men," " the spots of stationary sunshine,"
and the homesteads which are scattered here and there,
both on the heights and in the lower ground, near pro-
tecting rocks and craggy steeps. Seathwaite I had a
perfect recollection of; and the way we approached it
twenty years ago, from Coniston over Walna Scar, is
the way Mr. Wordsworth still recommends as the most
beautiful. We went on some distance beyond the chapel,
and every new turning and opening among the hills
allured us on, till at last the Poet was obliged to exercise
the word of command, that we should proceed no further.
The return is always a flat thing, so I shall not detail it,
except that we reached our respective homes in good
time ; and I hope I shall never cease to think with grati-
tude and pleasure of the kindness of my honoured guide
through the lovely scenes he has rescued from obscurity,
although it happily still remains an unvitiated region,
" which stands in no need of the veil of twilight to soften
or disguise its features : as it glistens in the morning's sun
it fills the spectator's heart with gladsomeness."

1 November 21. — My mother and I called at Rydal last
Saturday, to see the Wordsworths after their autumnal
excursion. We found him only at home, looking in great
vigour and much the better for this little change of scene
and circumstance. He spoke with much interest of a
communication he had had from a benevolent surgeon at
Manchester, an admirer of his, who thinks that a great
proportion of the blindness in this country might be pre-

462 REMINISCENCES.

vented by attention to the diseases of the eye in childhood.
He spoke of two very interesting blind ladies he had
seen at Leamington, one of whom had been at Rydal
Mount a short time before her " total eclipse," and now
derived the greatest comfort from the recollection of these
beautiful scenes, almost the last she looked on. He spoke
of his own pleasure in returning to them, and of the effect
of the first view from "Orrest Head," the point mentioned
in his " unfortunate 1 sonnet, which has " he said, " you
are aware, exposed me to the most unlocked for accusa-
tions. They actually accuse me of desiring to interfere
with the innocent enjoyments of the poor, by preventing
this district becoming accessible to them by railway.
Now I deny that it is to that class that this kind of scenery
is either the most improving or the most attractive. For
the very poor the great God of nature has mercifully
spread out his Bible everywhere ; the common sunshine,
green fields, the blue sky, the shining river, are every-
where to be met with in this country ; and it is only an
individual here and there among the uneducated classes
who feels very deeply the poetry of lakes and mountains ;
and such persons would rather wander about where they
like than rush through the country in a railway. It is not,
therefore, the poor, as a class, that would benefit morally
or mentally by a railway conveyance ; while to the edu-
cated classes, to whom such scenes as these give enjoy-
ment of the purest kind, the effect would be almost
entirely destroyed."

4 Wednesday, 20£A Nov. — A most remarkable halo was
seen round the moon soon after five o'clock to-day ; the
colours of the rainbow were most brilliant, and the circle
was entire for about five minutes.

1 See above, Vol. I. p. 453.

REMINISCENCES. 463

4 Thursday, Mr. Wordsworth dined here with the Balls,
Davys, and Mr. Jeffries. Mr. W. spoke with much delight
of the moon the day before, and said his servant, whom
he called " dear James," called his attention to it.

' Wednesday December ISth. — The Wordsworths and
Quillinans sat two hours with us. He said he thought

was mistaken in the philosophy of his view of the

danger of Milton's Satan being represented without horns
and hoofs ; that Milton's conception was as true as it was
grand ; that making sin ugly was a common-place notion
compared with making it beautiful outwardly, and inwardly
a hell. It assailed every form of ambition and worldli-
ness, the form in which sin attacks the highest natures.*

4 This day, Sunday, the 9th of February, the snow is
again falling fast, but very gently. Yesterday, the 8th,
was a beautiful day. We had a very pleasant visit of
above an hour from Wordsworth and his wife. He was
in excellent spirits, and repeated with a solemn beauty,
quite peculiar to himself, a sonnet he had lately composed
on " Young England ; " and his indignant burst u Where
then is o/d, our dear old England ? " was one of the finest
bursts of nature and art combined I have ever heard. My
dear mother's face, too, while he was repeating it, was a
fine addition to the picture ; and I could not help feeling
they were both noble specimens of " dear old England."
Mrs. Wordsworth, too, is a goodly type of another class
of old England, more thoroughly English, perhaps, than
either of the others, but they made an admirable trio ;
and Mrs. Wordsworth's face expressed more admiration

* [See 'The Life and Correspondence' of the late Dr. Arnold,
Appendix, c. ix., note. — H. R.]

464 REMINISCENCES*.

of her husband in his bardic mood than I ever saw before.
He discussed mesmerism very agreeably, stating strongly
his detestation of clairvoyance ; not only on the presump-
tion of its being altogether false, but supposing it, for
argument sake, to be true, then he thinks it would be an
engine of enormous evil, putting it in the power of any
malicious person to blast the character of another, and
shaking to the very foundations the belief in individual
responsibility. He is not disposed to reject without exami-
nation the assertions with regard to the curative powers of
mesmerism. He spoke to-day with pleasure of having
heard that Mr. Lockhart had been struck by his lines from
a MS. poem, printed in his Railway-Sonnet pamphlet.

4 February 24th. — Snow still on the ground. It has
never been quite clear of snow since the 27th January.
Partial thaws have allowed us to peep out into the world
of Ambleside and Rydal ; and last Saturday we drank tea

at Foxhow, and met the Wordsworths and Miss F .

He is very happy to have his friend home again, and was
in a very agreeable mood. He repeated his sonnet on the
" Pennsylvanians," and again that on " Young England,"
which I admire so much.

'•March 6th. — Wordsworth, whom we met yesterday
at dinner at the Oaks, expressed his dislike to monuments
in churches ; partly from the absurdity and falsehood of
the epitaphs which sometimes belonged to them, and
partly from their injuring the architectural beauties of the
edifice, as they grievously did in Westminster Abbey and
many other cathedrals. He made an exception in favour
of those old knightly monuments, which he admitted added
to the solemnity of the scene, and were in keeping with
the buildings; and he added, "I must also except another

REMINISCENCES. 465

monument which once made a deep impression on my
mind. It was in a small church near St. Alban's ; and I
once left London in the afternoon, so as to sleep at St.
Alban's the first night, and have a few hours of evening
light to visit this church. It was before the invention of
railways, and I determined that I would always do the
same ; but, the year after, railways existed, and I have
never been able to carry out my project again : all wander-
ing is now over. Well, I went to this small country
church ; and just opposite the door at which you enter, the
figure of the great Lord Bacon, in pure white, was the
first thing that presented itself. I went there to see his
tomb, but I did not expect to see himself; and it impressed
me deeply. There he was, a man whose fame extends
over the whole civilized world, sitting calmly, age after
age, in white robes of pure alabaster, in this small country
church, seldom visited except by some stray traveller, and
he having desired to be interred in this spot, to lie near
his mother."

4 On referring to Mallet's Life of Bacon, I see he men-
tions that he was privately buried at St. Michael's church,
near St. Alban's ; and it adds, " The spot that contains his
remains, lay obscure and undistinguished, till the gratitude
of a private man, formerly his servant" (Sir Thomas
Meautys), " erected a monument to his name and memory."
This makes it probable that the likeness is a correct one.

1 November 8th, 1845. — On our way to take an early
dinner at Foxhow yesterday, we met the Poet at the foot
of his own hill, and he engaged us to go to tea to the
Mount, on our way home, to hear their adventures, he and
his Mary having just returned from a six weeks' wander
among their friends. During their absence, we always
feel that the road between Grasmere and Ambleside is
wanting in something, beautiful as it is. We reached the

VOL. ir. 30

466 REMINISCENCES.

Mount before six, and found dear Mrs. Wordsworth much
restored by her tour. She has enjoyed the visit to her
kith and kin in Herefordshire extremely, and we had a
nice comfortable chat round the fire and the tea-table.
After tea, in speaking of the misfortune it was when a
young man did not seem more inclined to one profession
than another, Wordsworth said that he had always some
feeling of indulgence for men at that age, who felt such
a difficulty. He had himself passed through it, and had
incurred the strictures of his friends and relations on this
subject. He said that after he had finished his college
course, he was in great doubt as to what his future em-
ployment should be. He did not feel himself good enough
for the Church, he felt that his mind was not properly dis-
ciplined for that holy office, and that the struggle between
his conscience and his impulses, would have made life a
torture. He also shrank from the law, although Southey
often told him that he was well fitted for the higher parts
of the profession. He had studied military history with
great interest, and the strategy of war ; and he always
fancied that he had talents for command ; and he at one
time thought of a military life, but then he was without
connections, and he felt if he were ordered to the West
Indies, his talents would not save him from the yellow
fever, and he gave that up. At this time he had only a
hundred a year. Upon this he lived, and travelled, and
married, for it was not until the late Lord Lonsdale came
into possession, that the money which was due to them
was restored. He mentioned this to show how difficult it
often was to judge of what was passing in a young man's
mind, but he thought that for the generality of men, it
was much better that they should be early led to the exer-
cise of a profession of their own choice.

'December, 1845. — Henry Fletcher and I dined at the

REMINISCENCES. 467

Mount, on the 21st of this month. The party consisted
of Mr. Crabb Robinson (their Christmas guest), Mrs.
Arnold, Miss Martineau, and ourselves. My mother's
cold was too bad to allow her to go, which I regretted, as
it was, like all their little meetings, most sociable and
agreeable. Wordsworth was much pleased with a little
notice of his new edition in the " Examiner ; " he thought
it very well done. He expressed himself very sweetly at
dinner, on the pleasant terms of neighbourly kindness we
enjoyed in the valleys. It will be pleasant in after times
to remember his words, and still more his manner, when
he said this, it was done with such perfect simplicity and
equality of feeling, without the slightest reference to self,
and I am sure, without thinking of himself at the time, as
more than one of the little circle whose friendly feeling
he was commending.

''October, 1846. — Wordsworth dined with us one day
last week, and was in much greater vigour than I have
seen him all this summer.

4 He mentioned incidentally that the spelling of our
language was veiy much fixed in the time of Charles the
Second, and that the attempts which had been made since,
and are being made in the present day, were not likely to

succeed. He entered his protest as usual against 's

style, and said that since Johnson, no writer had done so
much to vitiate the English language. He considers Lord
Chesterfield the last good English writer, before Johnson.
Then came the Scotch historians, who did infinite mischief
to style, with the exception of Smollet, who wrote good
pure English. He quite agreed to the saying, that all great
poets wrote good prose ; he said there was not one excep-
tion. He does not think Burns's prose equal to his verse,

468 REMINISCENCES.

but this he attributes to his writing his letters in English
words, while in his verse he was not trammelled in this
way, but let his numbers have their own way.

' Lancrigg, November. — Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth
took an early dinner with us on the 26th of this month.
He was very vigorous, and spoke of his majority at
Glasgow, also of his reception at Oxford. He told us of
an application he had just had from a Glasgow publisher
that he should write a sonnet in praise of Fergusson and
Allan Ramsay, to prefix to a new edition of those Poets
which was about to appear. He intended to reply, that
Burns's lines to Fergusson would be a much more appro-
priate tribute than anything he could write ; and he went
on to say that Burns owed much to Fergusson, and that
he had taken the plan of many of his poems from Fer-
gusson, and the measure also. He did not think this at all
detracted from the merit of Burns, for he considered it a
much higher effort of genius to excel in degree, than to
strike out what may be called an original poem. He
spoke highly of the purity of language of the Scotch
poets of an earlier period, Gavin Douglass, and others,
and said that they greatly excelled the English poets, after
Chaucer, which he attributed to the distractions of Eng-
land during the wars of York and Lancaster.

' December 25£/i, 1846. — My mother and I called at
Rydal Mount yesterday early, to wish our dear friends the
blessings of the season. Mrs. W. met us at the door most
kindly, and we found him before his good fire in the
dining-room, with a flock of robins feasting at the window.
He had an old tattered book in his hand ; and as soon as
he had given us a cordial greeting, he said, in a most an-
imated manner, " I must read to you what Mary and I
have this moment finished. It is a passage in the Life of
Thomas Elwood." He then read to us the following ex-
tract :

REMINISCENCES. 469

' " Some little time before I went to Alesbury prison, I
was desired by my quondam master, Milton, to take an
house for him in the neighbourhood where I dwell, that he
might get out of the city, for the safety of himself and
his family, the pestilence then growing hot in London. I
took a pretty box for him in Giles-Chalford, a mile from
me, of which I gave him notice ; and intended to have
waited on him, and seen him well settled in it, but was
prevented by that imprisonment.

1 " But now being released, and returned home, I soon
made a visit to him, to welcome him into the country.

4 " After some common discourses had passed between
us, he called for a manuscript of his, which being brought,
he delivered to me, bidding me take it home with me and
read it at my leisure ; and when I had so done, return it
to him with my judgment thereupon.

4 " When t came home, and had set myself to read it,
I found it was that excellent poem which he entituled Par-
adise Lost. After I had with the best attention read it
through, I made him another visit, and returned him his
book with due acknowledgment of the favour he had done
me in communicating it to me. He asked me how I liked
it, and what I thought of it, which I modestly, but freely
told him ; and after some further discourse about it, I
pleasantly said to him, ' Thou hast said much here of Par-
adise lost, but what hast thou to say of Paradise found ?'
He made me no answer, but sate some time in a muse ;
then brake off that discourse, and fell upon another sub-
ject. After the sickness was over, and the city well
cleansed and become safely habitable again, he returned
thither ; and when afterwards I went to wait on him there
(which I seldom failed of doing whenever rny occasions
drew me to London), he showed me his second poem,
called l Paradise Regained ; ' and in a pleasant tone said

470 REMINISCENCES.

to me, ' This is owing to you, for you put it into my head
by the question you put to me at Chalford, which before I
had not thought of.' But from this digression I return
to the family I then lived in."

4 Wordsworth was highly diverted with the apology of
the worthy Quaker, for the digression, which has alone
saved him from oblivion. He offered to send us the old
book, which came a few days after ; and I shall add
another digression in favour of John Milton, to whom he
appears to have been introduced about the year 1661, by
a Dr. Paget. It is thus notified apropos to Thomas
El wood, feeling a desire for more learning than he pos-
sessed, which having expressed to Isaac Pennington, with
whom he himself lived as tutor to his children, he says,
44 Isaac Pennington had an intimate acquaintance with Dr.
Paget, a physician of note in London, and he with John
Milton, a gentleman of great note for learning throughout
the learned world, for the accurate pieces he had written
on various subjects and occasions. This person having
filled a public station in the former times, lived now a pri-
vate and retired life in London, and, having wholly lost
his sight, kept always a man to read to him, which usually
was the son of some gentleman of his acquaintance, whom
in kindness he took to improve in his learning.

4 " He received me courteously, as well for the sake of
Dr. Paget, who introduced me, as of Isaac Pennington,
who recommended me, to both whom he bore a good
respect ; and having inquired divers things of me, with
respect to my former progression in learning, he dismissed
me to provide myself of such accommodations as might
be most suitable to my future studies.

4 " I went, therefore, and took myself a lodging as near
to his house, which was then in Jewin street, as conven-
iently I could, and from thenceforward went every day in

REMINISCENCES. 471

the afternoon (except on the first days of the week), and
sitting by him in his dining-room, read to him in such
books in the Latin tongue as he pleased to hear me
read.'"

'The Oaks, Ambleside, Jan. 15, 1845.

* We l dined to-day at Rydal Mount. Mr. Wordsworth,
during dinner, grave and silent, till, on some remark hav-
ing been made on the present condition of the Church, he
most unreservedly gave his own views ; and gave expres-
sion, as I have only once heard him give before, to his
own earnest, devout, humble feelings as a Christian. In
the evening, being led by some previous conversation to
speak of St. Paul, he said, " Oh, what a character that is!
how well we know him ! How human, yet how noble !
How little outward sufferings moved him ! It is not in
speaking of these that he calls himself wretched ; it is
when he speaks of the inward conflict. Paul and David,"
he said, " may be called the two Shaksperian characters
in the Bible ; both types, as it were, of human nature in
its strength and its weakness. Moses is grand, but then it
is chiefly from position, from the office he had entrusted
to him. We do not know Moses as a man, as a brother-
man."

1 April 7, 1846. — I went to the Mount 'to-day, to pay
my respects to Mr. Wordsworth, on his birth-day. I found
him and dear Mrs. Wordsworth very happy, in the arrival
of their four grandsons. The two elder are to go to Ros-
sall next week. Some talk concerning schools led Mr.
Wordsworth into a discourse, which, in relation to himself,
I thought very interesting, on the dangers of emulation, as
used in the way of help to school progress. Mr. Words-

1 Communicated by Mrs. Davy.

472 REMINISCENCES.

worth thinks that envy is too likely to go along with this,
and therefore would hold it to be unsafe. " In my own
case," he said, " I never felt emulation with another man
but once, and that was accompanied by envy. It is a
horrid feeling." This " once" was in the study of Italian,
which, he continued, " I entered on at college along with
" (I forget the name he mentioned). "I never en-
gaged in the proper studies of the university, so that in
these I had no temptation to envy any one ; but I remember
with pain that I had envious feelings when my fellow-
student in Italian got before me. I was his superior in
many departments of mind, but he was the better Italian
scholar, and I envied him. The annoyance this gave me
made me feel that emulation was dangerous for me, and it
made me very thankful that as a boy I never experienced
it. I felt very early the force of the words, ' Be ye per-
fect even as your Father in heaven is perfect,' and as a
teacher, or friend, or counsellor of youth, I would hold
forth no other motive to exertion than this. There is, I
think, none other held forth in the gospels. No permission
is given to e"mulation there. ....
There must always be a danger of incurring the passion of
vanity by emulation. If we try to outstrip a fellow-crea-
ture, and succeed, we may naturally enough be proud.
The true lesson of humility is to strive after conformity to
that excellence which we never can surpass, never even by
a great distance attain to." There was, in the whole
manner as well as matter of Mr. Wordsworth's discourse
on this subject, a deep veneration for the will of God con-
cerning us, which I shall long remember with interest and
delight — I hope with profit. " Oh ! one other time," he
added, smiling, " one other time in my life I felt envy. It
was when my brother was nearly certain of success in a

REMINISCENCES. 473

foot-race with me. I tripped up his heels. This must
have been envy."

'Lesketh Horn, Jan. 11, 1847.

1 In a morning visit by our fireside to-day, from Mr.
Wordsworth, something led to the mention of Milton, whose
poetry, he said, was earlier a favourite with him than that of
Shakspeare. Speaking of Milton's not allowing his daugh-
ters to learn the meaning of the Greek they read to him,
or at least not exerting himself to teach it to them, he
admitted that this seemed to betoken a low estimate of the
condition and purposes of the female mind. "And yet,
where could he have picked up such notions," said Mr.
W. , " in a country which had seen so many women of
learning and talent ? But his opinion of what women
ought to be, it may be presumed, is given in the unfallen
Eve, as contrasted with the right condition of man before
his Maker :

1 He for God only, she for God in him.'

Now that," said Mr. Wordsworth, earnestly, " is a low, a
very low and a very false estimate of woman's condition."
He was amused on my showing him the (almost) con-
temporary notice of Milton by Wycherly", and, after read-
ing it, spoke a good deal of the obscurity of men of
genius in or near their own times. " But the most sin-
gular thing," he continued, " is, that in all the writings of
Bacon there is not one allusion to Shakspeare."

'Lesketh Horn, Jan. 10, 1849.

4 A long fireside visit from Mr. Wordsworth this morn-
ing, in highly sociable spirits ; speaking much of old days
and old acquaintances. He spoke with much regret of

474 REMINISCENCES.

Scott's careless views about money, and said that he had
often spoken to him of the duty of economy, as a means
to insure literary independence. Scott's reply always was,
" Oh, I can make as much as I please by writing."
" This," said Mr. W., " was marvellous to me, who had
never written a line with a view to profit. Speaking of
his own prose writing, he said, that but for Coleridge's
irregularity of purpose he should probably have left much
more in that kind behind him. When Coleridge was pro-
posing to publish his " Friend," he (Mr. Wordsworth)
offered contributions. Coleridge expressed himself pleased
with the offer, but said, " I must arrange my principles
for the work, and when that is done I shall be glad of
your aid." But this " arrangement of principles " never
took place. Mr. Wordsworth added, " I think my nephew,
Dr. Wordsworth,1 will, after my death, collect and publish
all I have written in prose."

4 On this day, as I have heard him more than once
before, Mr. Wordsworth, in a way very earnest, and to me
very impressive and remarkable, disclaimed all value for,
all concern about, posthumous fame."

1 On another occasion, I believe, he intimated a desire that his
works in prose should be edited by his son-in-law, Mr. Quillinan.

[A place may be found here for Mrs. Hemans's impressions of
"Wordsworth's character and daily life, written several years
earlier (in 1830) at the time of her visit to Rydal Mount, and
published, after her death in the Memoir by her sister, and in
Chorley's ' Memorials of Mrs. Hemans ' :

.... 'There is an almost patriarchal simplicity, an absence
of all pretension, about him [Mr. Wordsworth] ; all is free, un-
studied— " the river gliding at his own sweet will"; in his
manner and conversation there is more of impulse about them
than I had expected, but in other respects I see much that I should
have looked for in the poet of meditative life : frequently his head

REMINISCENCES. 475

droops, his eyes half close, and he seems buried in quiet depths of
thought. I have passed a delightful morning to-day (June 22) in
walking with him about his own richly shaded grounds, and hear-
ing him speak of the old English writers, particularly Spenser,
whom he loves, as he himself expresses it, for his " earnestness
and devotedness." .... He admired our exploit in crossing
the Ulverston Sands ; the lake scenery, he says, is never seen
to such advantage as after the passage of what he calls its majestic
barrier.

. . . . ' I am charmed with Mr. Wordsworth j his manners are
distinguished by that frank simplicity, which I believe to be ever
the characteristic of real genius ; his conversation perfectly free
and unaffected, yet remarkable for power of expression and vivid
imagery ; when the subject calls for anything like enthusiasm,
the poet breaks out frequently and delightfully, and his gentle
and affectionate playfulness in the intercourse with all the mem-
bers of his family would, of itself, sufficiently refute Moore's
theory in the Life of Byron, with regard to the unfitness of genius

for domestic happiness " There is a daily beauty in his

life," which is in such lovely harmony with his poetry, that I am
thankful to have witnessed and felt it. He gives me a good deal
of his society, reads to me, walks with me, leads ray pony when
I ride, and I begin to talk with him as with a sort of paternal
friend. The whole of this morning (June 24) he kindly passed
in reading to me a great deal from Spenser, and afterwards his
own " Laodamia," my favourite " Tintern Abbey," and many of
those noble sonnets I enjoy so much. His reading is very pecu-
liar, but, to my ear, delightful ; slow, solemn, earnest in expres-
sion more than any I have ever heard ; when, he reads or recites
in the open air, his deep tones seem to proceed from a spirit-voice,
and belong to the religion of the place ; they harmonize so fitly
with the thrilling tones of woods and waterfalls. His expressions
are often strikingly poetical : " I would not give up the mists that
spiritualize our mountains for all the blue skies of Italy." Yester-
day evening he walked beside me, as I rode on a long and lovely
mountain-path high above Grasmere lake : I was much interested
by his showing me, carved deep into the rock, as we passed, the
initials of his wife's name inscribed there many years ago by
himself; and the dear old man, like "Old Mortality," renews
them from time to time.

476 REMINISCENCES.

. . . . ' It is delightful to see a life in such perfect harmony
with all that his writings express — " true to the kindred points of
heaven and home." You may remember how much I disliked
that shallow theory of Mr. Moore's with regard to the unfitness of
genius for domestic happiness. I was speaking of it yesterday to
Mr. Wordsworth, and was pleased by his remark : "It is not
because they possess genius that they make unhappy homes, but
because they do not possess genius enough ; a higher order of
mind would enable them to see and feel all the beauty of domestic
ties." His mind, indeed, may well inhabit an untroubled atmos-
phere, for, as he himself declares, no wounded affections, no-
embittered feelings, have ever been his lot ; the current of his
domestic life has flowed on, bright, and pure, and unbroken.

. . . . ' Mr. Wordsworth's kindness has inspired me with a
feeling of confidence, which it is delightful to associate with those
of admiration and respect, before excited by his writings ; — and
he has treated me with so much consideration, and gentleness, and

care ! — they have been like balm to my spirit I wish I

had lime to tell you of mornings which he has passed in reading
to me, and of evenings when he has walked beside me, whilst I
rode through the lovely vales of Grasmere and Rydal j and of his
beautiful, sometimes half-unconscious recitation in a voice so
deep and solemn, that it has often brought tears into my eyes.
His voice has something quite breeze-like in the soft gradations

of its swells and falls We had been listening during one

of these evening rides, to various sounds and notes of birds,
which broke upon the stillness j and at last I said, " Perhaps
there may be still deeper and richer music pervading all nature
than we are permitted, in this state, to hear." He answered by
reciting those glorious lines of Milton's :

"Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth,
Unseen, both when we walk and when we sleep," etc. .

and this in tones that seemed rising from such depths of venera-
tion ! His tones of solemn earnestness, sinking, almost dying
away into a murmur of veneration, as if the passage were
breathed forth from the heart, I shall never forget.' — H. R.]

CHAPTER LXIII.

REMINISCENCES : MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA.

I SHALL not endeavour to give an idea of Mr. Words-
worth's conversation. Such an attempt would be futile.
No powers of description can adequately represent the
effect produced by the aspect, especially in his latter
days — the broad full forehead, the silver hair, the deep
and varied intonations of the voice, and the copious river-
like flow of words, sweeping along with a profusion of
imagery, reflections, and incidents, in a majestic tide.

To sit down to represent this would be an act of pre-
sumption, like that attributed to the oriental monarch who,
in a fit of splenetic revenge, cut up the magnificent river
into a number of petty rivulets. I shall content myself
with noting down some records of opinions which he
expressed from time to time on literary subjects in my
hearing, — some of them nearly a quarter of a century
ago.

4 Remember, first read the ancient classical authors ;
then come to us; and you will be able to- judge for your-
self which of us is worth reading.

4 The first book of Homer appears to be independent of
the rest. The plan of the Odyssey is more methodical
than that of the Iliad. The character of Achilles
seems to me one of the grandest ever conceived. There

478 REMINISCENCES !

is something awful in it, particularly in the circumstance
of his acting under an abiding foresight of his own death.
One day, conversing with Payne Knight and Uvedale
Price concerning Homer, I expressed my admiration of
Nestor's speech, as eminently natural, where he tells the
Greek leaders that they are mere children in comparison
with the heroes of old whom he had known.1 " But,"
said Knight and Price, "that passage is spurious!"
However, I will not part with it. It is interesting to com-
pare the same characters (Ajax, for instance) as treated
by Homer, and then afterwards by the Greek dramatists?
and to mark the difference of handling. In the plays of
Euripides, politics come in as a disturbing force: Homer's
characters act on physical impulse. There is more intro-
version in the dramatists : whence Aristotle rightly calls
him T()aj'txwT«Toc. The tower-scene, where Helen comes
into the presence of Priam and the old Trojans, displays
one of the most beautiful pictures anywhere to be seen.
Priam's speech2 on that occasion is a striking proof of
the courtesy and delicacy of the Homeric age, or at least,
of Homer himself.

' Catullus translated literally from the Greek ; succeed-
ing Roman writers did not so, because Greek had then
become the fashionable, universal language. They did
not translate, but they paraphrased ; the ideas remaining
the same, their dress different. Hence the attention of
the poets of the Augustan age was principally confined to
the happy selection of the most appropriate words and
elaborate phrases ; and hence arises the difficulty of trans-
lating them.

' The characteristics ascribed by Horace to Pindar in
his ode, " Pindarum quisquis," &c. are not found in his

1 Iliad, i. 260. 2 uiad; iii. 156.

MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA. 479

extant writings. Horace had many lyrical effusions of
the Theban bard which we have not. How graceful is
Horace's modesty in his "Ego apis Matinee More mo-
doque," as contrasted with the Dircaean Swan ! Horace
is my great favourite : I love him dearly.

' I admire Virgil's high moral tone : for instance, that
sublime " Aude, hospes, contemnere opes," &c. and
" his dantem jura Catonem ! " What courage and inde-
pendence of spirit is there ! There is nothing more
imaginative and awful than the passage,

" Arcades ipsum

Credunt se vidisse Jovem," &c. l

I In describing the weight of sorrow and fear on Dido's
mind, Virgil shows great knowledge of human nature,
especially in that exquisite touch of feeling,2

" Hoc visum nulli, non ipsi effata sorori."

The ministry of Confession is provided to satisfy the
natural desire for some relief from the load of grief.
Here, as in so many other respects, the Church of Rome
adapts herself with consummate skill to our nature, and
is strong by our weaknesses. Almost all her errors and
corruptions are abuses of what is good.

I 1 think Buchanan's " Maice Calendso " equal in senti-
ment, if not in elegance, to anything in Horace ; but
your brother Charles, to whom I repeated it the other day,
pointed out a false quantity in it.3 Happily this had
escaped me.'

4 When I began to give myself up to the profession of a

1 JEn. viii. 352. » -En. iv. 455.

8 If I remember right, it is in the third line,
' Ludisque dicata>, jocisque ; '

480 REMINISCENCES I

poet for life, I was impressed with a conviction, that there
were four English poets whom I must have continually
before me as examples — Chaucer, Shakspeare, Spenser,
and Milton. These I must study, and equal if I could ;
and I need not think of the rest.'1

'I have been charged by some with disparaging Pope
and Dryden. This is not so. I have committed much of
both to memory. As far as Pope goes, he succeeds ; but
his Homer is not Homer, but Pope.'

' I cannot account for Shakspeare's low estimate of his
own writings, except from the sublimity, the superhuman-
ity, of his genius. They were infinitely below his con-
ception of what they might have been, and ought to have
been.'

4 The mind often does not think, when it thinks that it
is thmking. If we were to give our whole soul to any-
thing, as the bee does to the flower, I conceive there would
be little difficulty in any intellectual employment. Hence
there is no excuse for obscurity in writing.'

4 " Macbeth," is the best conducted of Shakspeare's
plays. The fault of "Julius Csesar," " Hamlet," and
" Lear," is, that the interest is not, and by the nature of
the case could not be, sustained to their conclusion. The
death of Julius Csesar is too overwhelming an incident for
any stage of the drama but the last. It is an incident to
which the mind clings, and from which it will not be torn
away to share in other sorrows. The same may be said

a strange blunder, for Buchanan must have read Horace's,

' Quid dedicatum poscit Apollinem,'
a hundred times.

1 This paragraph was communicated by Mr. H. C. Robinson.

MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA. 481

of the madness of Lear. Again, the opening of "Hamlet"
is full of exhausting interest. There is more mind in
"Hamlet" than any other play; more knowledge of
human nature. The first act is incomparable. . . .
There is too much of an every-day sick room in the
death-bed scene of Catherine, in "Henry the Eighth" —
too much of leeches and apothecaries' vials. . . *
" Zanga " is a bad imitation of " Othello." Garrick never
ventured on Othello : he could not submit to a black face.
He rehearsed the part once. During the rehearsal Quin
entered, and, having listened for some time with attention,
exclaimed, " Well done, David ! but where's the tea-
kettle ? " alluding to the print of Hogarth, where a black
boy follows his mistress with a teakettle in his hand.
. . . In stature Garrick was short. ... A fact
which conveys a high notion of his powers is, that he was
able to act out the absurd stage-costume of those days.
He represented Coriolanus in tjie attire of Cheapside. I
remember hearing from Sir G. Beaumont, that while he
was venting, as Lear, the violent paroxysms of his rage
in the awful tempest scene, his wig happened to fall off.
The accident did not produce the slightest effect on the
gravity of the house, so strongly had he impregnated
every breast with his own emotions.'

4 Some of my friends (H. C. for instance) doubt whether
poetry on contemporary persons and events can be good.
But I instance Spenser's " Marriage," and Milton's " Ly-
cidas." True, the "Persae" is one of the worst of
^Eschylus's plays; at least, in my opinion.'

4 Milton is falsely represented by some as a democrat.
He was an aristocrat in the truest sense of the word. See
the quotation from him in my "Convention of Cintra."1

1 Page 191, at end, where Milton speaks of the evils suffered by

VOL II. 31

482 REMINISCENCES I

Indeed, he spoke in very proud and contemptuous terms
of the populace. " Comus " is rich in beautiful and
sweet flowers, and in exuberant leaves of genius ; but the
ripe and mellow fruit is in " Samson Agonistes." When
he wrote that, his mind was Hebraized. Indeed, his
genius fed on the writings of the Hebrew prophets. This
arose, in some degree, from the temper of the times ; the
Puritan lived in the Old Testament, almost to the exclu-
sion of the New.'

'The works of the old English dramatists are the gar-
dens of our language.'

'One of the noblest things in Milton is the description
of that sweet, quiet morning in the "Paradise Regained,"
after that terrible night of howling wind and storm. The
contrast is divine.' 1

1 What a virulent democrat is ! A man ill at

ease with his own conscience, is sure to quarrel with all
government, order, and law.'

4 The influence of Locke's Essay, was not due to its
own merits, which are considerable ; but to external cir-
cumstances. It came forth at a happy opportunity, and
coincided with the prevalent opinions of the time. The
Jesuit doctrines concerning the papal power in deposing
kings, and absolving subjects from their allegiance, had
driven some Protestant theologians to take refuge in the
theory of the divine right of kings. This theory was un-
palatable to the world at large, and others invented the
more popular doctrine of a social contract, in its place ; a
doctrine which history refutes. But Locke did what he
could to accommodate this principle to his own system.'

a nation, ' unless men more than vulgar, bred up in the knowledge
of ancient and illustrious deeds, conduct its affairs.'
1 Paradise Regained, iv. 431.

MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA. 483

'The only basis on which property can rest, is right
derived from prescription.'

4 The best of Locke's works, as it seems to me, is that
in which he attempts the least — his "Conduct of the
Understanding." '

In the summer of 1827, speaking of some of his con-
temporaries, Mr. Wordsworth said, 4 T. Moore has great
natural genius ; but he is too lavish of brilliant ornament.
His poems smell of the perfumer's and milliner's shops.
He is not content with a ring and a bracelet, but he must
have rings in the ears, rings on the nose — rings every-
where.

4 Walter Scott is not a careful composer. He allows
himself many liberties, which betray a want of respect for
his reader. For instance, he is too fond of inversions ;
i. e., he often places the verb before the substantive, and
the accusative before the verb. W. Scott quoted, as from
me,

" The swan on sneet St. Mary's lake
Floats double, swan and shadow,"

instead of still; thus obscuring my idea, and betraying
his own uncritical principles of composition.

4 Byron seems to me deficient in feeling. Professor
Wilson, I think, used to say that " Beppo" was his best
poem ; because all his faults were there brought to a height
I never read the 44 English Bards" through. His critical
prognostications have, for the most part, proved errone-
ous.'

4 Sir James Mackintosh said of me to M. de Stael,
44 Wordsworth is not a great poet, but he is the greatest
man among poets." Madame de Stael complained of my
style.

484 REMINISCENCES:

4 Now whatever may be the result of my experiment in
the subjects which I have chosen for poetical composition
— be they vulgar or be they not, — I can say without van-
ity, that I have bestowed great pains on my style, full as
much as any of my contemporaries have done on theirs.
I yield to none in love for my art. I, therefore, labour at
it with reverence, affection and industry.* My main
endeavour, as to style, has been that my poems should be
written in pure intelligible English. Lord Byron has
spoken severely of my compositions. However faulty
they may be, I do not think that I ever could have pre-
vailed upon myself to print such lines as he has done ;
for instance,

" I stood at Venice on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand."

Some person ought to write a critical review, analyzing
Lord Byron's language, in order to guard others against
imitating him in these respects.

1 Shelley is one of the best artists of us all : I mean in
workmanship of style.'

4 AtCalgarth, dining with Mrs. and the Miss Watsons . . .
a very fine portrait of the late Bishop in the dining room.
. . . Mr. Wordsworth there : a very agreeable party.
Walked home with him in the evening to Rydal. It rained

* [Another remarkable trait in Wordsworth's character as an
author, was, that with that self-possession, which belongs to
genius of a high order, he united a spirit of willing deference
to thoughtful and genial criticism on his poems. Of this, ample
illustration "might be given from his revisions of the text. The
readiness with which he listened to suggested emendations, was
indeed a part of the sedulous and dutiful culture which he devoted
to his Art. — H. R.]

MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA. 485

all the way. We met a poor woman in the road. She
sobbed as she passed us. Mr. Wordsworth was much
affected with her condition : she was swollen with dropsy,
and slowly hobbling along with a stick, having been driven
from one lodging to another. It was a dark stormy night.
Mr. Wordsworth brought her back to the Low- wood Inn,
where, by the landlord's leave, she was housed in one of
his barns.'

' One day I met Mr. M. T. Sadler, at the late Arch-
bishop's. Sadler did not know me ; and before dinner he
began to launch forth in a critical dissertation on contem-
porary English Poetry. " Among living poets, your
Grace may know there is one called Wordsworth, whose
writings the world calls childish and puerile, but I think
some of them wonderfully pathetic." " Now Mr. Sadler,"
said the Archbishop, " what a scrape you are in ! here is
Mr. Wordsworth : but go down with him to dinner, and
you will find that, though a great poet, he does not belong
to the ' genus irritabile.' " This was very happy.'

' After returning one day from church at Addington, I
took the liberty of saying a few words on the sermon we
had heard. It was a very homely performance. " I am
rather surprised, my Lord Archbishop, that when your
Grace can have the choice of so many preachers in Eng-
land, you do not provide better for yourself." " Oh ! "
said he, " I think I can bear bad preaching better than
most people, and I therefore keep it to myself." This
seemed to me a very pleasing trait in the gentle and love-
able character of that admirable man.'

1 Patriarchal usages have not quite deserted us of these
valleys. This morning (new year's day) you were
awakened early by the minstrels playing under the eaves,
" Honour to Mr. Wordsworth ! " " Honour to Mrs. Words-

486

REMINISCENCES

worth ! " and so to each member of the household by
name, servants included, each at his own window. These
customs bind us together as a family, and are as beneficial
as they are delightful. May they never disappear ! '

1 In my Ode on the "Intimations of Immortality in
Childhood," I do not profess to give a literal representa-
tion of the state of the affections, and of the moral being
in childhood. I record my own feelings at that time —
my absolute spirituality, my " all-soulness," if 1 may so
speak. At that time I could not believe that I should lie
down quietly in the grave, and that my body would moulder
into dust.

4 Many of my poems have been influenced by my own
circumstances, when I was writing them. " The Warn-
ing " was composed on horseback, while I was riding from
Moresby in a snow-storm. Hence the simile in that
poem,

" While thoughts press on and feelings overflow,
And quick words round him fall like flakes of snow"

1 In the " Ecclesiastical Sonnets " 1 the lines concerning
the Monk,

" Within his cell,

Round the decaying trunk of human pride,
At morn, and eve, and midnight's silent hour,
Do penitential cogitations cling :
Like ivy round some ancient elm they twine
In grisly folds and strictures serpentine ;
Yet while they strangle, a fair growth they bring
For recompence — their own perennial bower ; " —

were suggested to me by a beautiful tree clad as thus
described, which you may remember in Lady Fleming's
park at Rydal, near the path to the upper waterfall.'

1 Sonnet xxi.

MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA. 487

4 S , in the work you mentioned to me, confounds

imagery and imagination. Sensible objects really exist-
ing, and felt to exist, are imagery ; and they may form th'e
materials of a descriptive poem, where objects are deline-
ated as they are. Imagination is a subjective term; it
deals with objects not as they are, but as they appear to
the mind of the poet.

4 The imagination is that intellectual lens through the
medium of which the poetical observer sees the objects of
his observation, modified both in form and colour ; or it is
that inventive dresser of dramatic tableaux, by which the
persons of the play are invested with new drapery, or
placed in new attitudes ; or it is that chemical faculty by
which elements of the most different nature and distant
origin are blended together into one harmonious and
homogeneous whole.

'A beautiful instance of the modifying and investive
power of imagination may be seen in that noble passage
of Dyer's " Ruins of Rome," l where the poet hears the
voice of Time ; and in Thomson's description of the
streets of Cairo, expecting the arrival of the caravan which
had perished in the storm. 2

' Read all Cowley ; he is very valuable to a collector of
English sound sense. . . . Burns's " Scots wha ha " is
poor as a lyric composition.

1. 37 :

' The pilgrim oft,

At dead of night, 'mid his oraison hears
Aghast the voice of TIME, disparting towers/ &c.

2 Thomson's Summer, 980 :

' In Cairo's crowded streets,

The impatient merchant, wondering, waits in vain,
And Mecca saddens at the long delay.'

488 REMINISCENCES :

4 Ariosto and Tasso are very absurdly depressed in order
to elevate Dante. Ariosto is not always sincere ; Spenser
always so.'

1 1 have tried to read Goethe. T never could succeed.
Mr. refers me to his " Iphigenia," but I there recog-
nise none of the dignified simplicity, none of the health
and vigour which the heroes and heroines of antiquity pos-
sess in the writings of Homer. The lines of Lucretius
describing the immolation of Iphigenia are worth the
whole of Goethe's long poem. Again, there is a profligacy,
an inhuman sensuality, in his works which is utterly re-
volting. I am not intimately acquainted with them gen-
erally. But I take up my ground on the first canto of
" Wilhelm Meister ;" and, as the attorney-general of
human nature, I there indict him for wantonly outraging
the sympathies of humanity. Theologians tell us of the
degraded nature of man ; and they tell us what is true.
Yet man is essentially a moral agent, and there is that
immortal and unextinguishable yearning for something
pure and spiritual which will plead against these poetical
sensualists as long as man remains what he is.'*

* Scientific men are often too fond of aiming to be men
of the world. They crave too much for titles, and stars,
and ribbons. If Bacon had dwelt only in the court of
Nature, and cared less for that of James the First, he
would have been a greater man, and a happier one too.'

4 1 heard lately from young Mr. Watt, a noble instance
of magnanimity in an eminent French chemist. He had

* [Mrs. Hemans, in a letter written after her visit at Rydal
Mount, mentions that Wordsworth said to her — ' Goethe's writings
cannot live, because they are' not holy.'1 — ' I found,' she adds, ' that
he had unfortunately adopted this opinion from an attempt to read
Wilhelm Meister, which had inspired him with irrepressible
disgust.' ' Memorials of Mrs. Hemans/ Chap, xn. — H. R.]

'MISCELLANEOUS MEMORANDA.

made a discovery, which he was informed would, if he
took out a patent, realize a large fortune. " No," said he,
" I do not live to amass money, but to discover truth ; and
as long as she attends me in my investigations so long will
I serve her and her only." '

4 Sir 1 know from my own experience was ruined

by prosperity. The age of Leo X. would have shone
with greater brilliance if it had had more clouds to
struggle with. The age of Louis XIV. was formed by the
Port Royal amid the storms and thunders of the League.
Racine lived in a court till it became necessary to his ex-
istence, as his miserable death proved. Those petty courts
of Germany have been injurious to its literature. They
who move in them are too prone to imagine themselves to
be the whole world, and compared with the whole world
they are nothing more than these little specks in the tex-
ture of this hearth-rug.'

4 As I was riding Dora's pony from Rydal to Cam-
bridge, I got off, as I occasionally did, to walk. I fell in
with a sweet looking peasant girl of nine or ten years old.
She had been to carry her father's dinner who was work-
ing in the fields, and she was wheeling a little wheelbarrow
in which she collected manure from the roads for her gar-
den at home. After some talk I gave 'her a penny, for
which she thanked me in the sweetest way imaginable. I
wish I had asked her whether she could read, and whether
she went to school. But I could not help being struck with
the happy arrangement which Nature -has made for the
education of the heart, an arrangement which it seems
the object of the present age to counteract instead of to
cherish and confirm. I imagined the happy delight of
the father in seeing his child at a distance, and watching
her as she approached to perform her errand of love. I

490 REMINISCENCES.

imagined the joy of the mother in seeing her return. I
am strongly of opinion (an opinion, you, perhaps, have
seen expressed by me in a letter to Mr. Rose) 1 that this
is the discipline which is more calculated by a thousand
degrees to make a virtuous and happy nation than the all-
engrossing, estranging, eleemosynary institutions for edu-
cation, which perhaps communicate more knowledge. In
these institutions what the pupils gain in knowledge they
often lose in wisdom. This is a distinction which must
never be lost sight of.

4 Education should never be wholly eleemosynary.
But must the parent suffer privations for the sake of the
child ? Yes ; for these privations endear the child to the
parent, and the parent to the child ; and whatever educa-
tion the parent may thus gain or lose for his child, he has
thus gained the noblest result of the most liberal education
for himself — the habit of self-denial.'

4 Next to your principles, and affections, and health,
value your time.'

I have been favoured, by one of Mr. Wordsworth's
friends,2 with the following reminiscences :

4 1 remember Mr. Wordsworth saying that, at a particular
stage of his mental progress, he used to be frequently so
rapt into an unreal transcendental world of ideas that the
external world seemed no longer to exist in relation to
him, and he had to reconvince himself of its existence by
clasping a tree, or something that happened to be near
him. I could not help connecting this fact with that ob-
scure passage in his great Ode on the " Intimations of Im-
mortality," in which he speaks of

1 See above, Chapter XLV.

2 The Rev. R. P. Graves, of Windermere.

REMINISCENCES. 491

" Those- obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things ;
Fallings from us, vanishings ;
Blank misgivings of a creature,
Moving about in worlds not realized," &c.

4 1 heard him once make the remark that it would be a
good habit to watch closely the first involuntary thoughts
upon waking in the morning, as indications of the real
current of the moral being.

1 1 was struck by what seemed to me a beautiful
analogy, which I once heard him draw, and which was
new to me — that the individual characters of mankind
showed themselves distinctively in childhood and youth, as
those of trees in spring ; that of both, of trees in summer
and of human kind in middle life, they were then alike to
a great degree merged in a dull uniformity; and that
again, in autumn* and in declining age, there appeared
afresh all their original and inherent variety brought out
into view with deeper marking of character, with more
vivid contrast, and with great accession of interest and
beauty.

4 He thought the charm of Robinson Crusoe mistakenly
ascribed, as it commonly is done, to its naturalness.
Attaching a full value to the singular yet easily imagined
and most picturesque circumstances of the adventurer's
position, to the admirable painting of the scenes, and to
the knowledge displayed of the working of human feelings,
he yet felt sure that the intense interest created by the
story arose chiefly from the extraordinary energy and re-
source of the hero under his difficult circumstances, from
their being so far beyond what it was natural to expect, or
what would have been exhibited by the average of men ;
and that similarly the high pleasure derived from his sue-

492 REMINISCENCES.

cesses and good fortunes arose from the peculiar source of
these uncommon merits of his character.

1 1 have heard him pronounce that the Tragedy of
Othello, Plato's records of the last scenes of the career of
Socrates, and Isaac Walton's Life of George Herbert, were
in his opinion the most pathetic of human compositions.

' In a walk one day, after stopping, according to his
custom, to claim admiration for some happy aspect of the
landscape, or beautiful composition on a smaller scale of
natural objects, caught by him at the precisely best point
of view in the midst of his conversation on other subjects,
he added, good humouredly, that there were three callings
for success in which Nature had furnished him with quali-
fications— the callings of poet, landscape-gardener, and
critic of pictures and works of art. On hearing this I
could not but remember how his qualifications for the sec-
ond were proved by the surprising varieiy of natural beau-
ties he managed to display to their best advantage, from
the very circumscribed limits of the garden at Rydal
Mount, "an invisible hand of art everywhere working"
(to use his own exquisite expression) " in the very spirit of
nature," and how many there were who have owed the
charm of their grounds and gardens to direction sought
from his well known taste and feeling. As to works of
art, his criticism was not that of one versed in the history
of the schools, but, always proceeding upon first principles,
the " prima philosophia," as he called it ; and it was, as it
appeared to me, of the highest order.

4 He was a very great admirer of Virgil, not so much
as a creative poet, but as the most consummate master of
language, that, perhaps, ever existed. From him, and
Horace, who was an especial favourite, and Lucretius, he
used to quote much.'

REMINISCENCES. 493

The following extracts are from a letter by an American
gentleman to one of his fellow-countrymen, whose name
has been frequently mentioned in these pages, Henry
Reed, Esq. The writer is describing a visit to Mr.
Wordsworth, at Rydal, on August 18, 1849. Mr. Words-
worth was then in his 80th year.1

1 A visit at Rydal, about this time, suggested the following
lines, with which I have been favoured by the author.

LINES WRITTEN AFTER A VISIT TO WORDSWORTH BY ROBERT
MONTGOMERY.

A thought the Universe in worth outweighs

Viewed as dead matter, meaningless, and dumb :

Hence, on some form where intellect is shrined

And genius dwells, in purity of power

To God and wisdom dedicate, we gaze

With no cold glance, by common love inspired.

And thus, on him, that venerable bard !

The laurelled priest of poetry and truth,

August with years, by mournful calm subdued,*

With filial reverence my spirit looked

When first I heard him, in his mountain-home,

My entrance welcome. Boyhod's pensive dawn

Ideal magic from his mental springs

So oft had drunk, that when their breathing source

Before me stood embodied, all the spells ,

His numbers wielded seemed in one combined,

And round my soul in high remembrance drawn,

Till, like a seer, or hierarch of mind

And melody, immortal Wordsworth thrilled

My heart, and made it vibrate into tears, —

For, tones there are in his creative verse

By childhood not unechoed : but, when age

Deepens the character, and powers awake

* An allusion to the Poet's bereavement in the death of his be-
loved daughter.

494 REMINISCENCES.

To Professor Henry Reed.

< Philadelphia, Sept. 1850.
4 My dear Friend,

' You have asked me to write out as fully as I can an
account of my visit to Wordsworth last summer, of which

To more majestic strains attuned, his thoughts
The hidden lyre of consciousness within
Electrically move, and secret chords
By him are touched, which prove the soul divine.

When thus indebted to his wealth of mind,
How could I gaze on that capacious brow
Open and high, and like an arch of thought
O'er eyes of intellectual blandness curved,
Or scan the lines, or view those silvered locks
Which o'er his countenance a hoary grace
Suffused, and not ennobling homage pay ?
"What, shall mere nature's majesty of forms
The eye entrance, where admiration glows
Because, though mute, those forms to fancy hint
A soul in matter, and a speech in things, —
And earth's own Laureates be unreverenced
By mind ? The human race their debtor is ;
Sea, air, and mountain, lake, and lonely shore,
Forests and woods, and fields where freshness blooms,
All are immortalized by some radiance cast
From their high meanings, who the world transform,
And cast a beauty round the common lot,
By making loveliness more lovely still.
A mental prophet and a priest of song
The bard of Rydal is to souls that see
How heaven-born genius, like a mouth for God,
Opens some new Apocalypse of power
Which faith reveres, and meditation loves :
For have not Nature, Providence, and Man
Of both the centre, from his thoughtful muse

REMINISCENCES. 495

your letter of introduction was the occasion. Feeling very
grateful to you for the pleasure which that visit gave me,

A sympathy of mild and mournful tone

Partaken, till Association's laws

Have each invested with a beauteous charm ?

Thus, mountain grandeur, and the grace of hills,

Like thine, Helvellyn ! with their hollow sweep,

Or forked Skiddaw with his famous brow,

Parnassian groves, and glades of blissful calm

"Where trees their twilight cast, — to him were dear,

And with his being half incorporate grew ;

The thorn had meanings, and a thistle spoke

Its own stern language, while each meadow-flower

A gem of beauty on Creation's brow

In blooming radiance seemed by angels dropt :

Nature to him was one Almighty speech

Significant, and deep, and full of God.

Nothing was lost, but all to love appealed :

The linnet's chant, a homeless cuckoo's song,

An eagle's majesty, or insect's mirth,

To him were welcome, and some feeling touched.

All voices, visions, all of sense and sound,

Home to his heart a deep impression sent

Which gave him partnership in Nature's ALL, —

As though 'twere conscious. Hence, the landscapes were

An outward token of the inward mind,

Lived in his life, and from the spirit's lyre

Drew melodies of thought, that shall not die

While throbs the heart with poetry or prayer.

Not mere description, pensive, deep, or grand,
His verse unfolds ; but he the mind has taught
How Nature's sacraments and symbols speak
To moral reverence with a language mute
But mighty, —how her words and motions are
Responsively to man's more hidden world
With such accordance shaped, that heavenward minds
View God and angels, where the creedless sense

496 REMINISCENCES.

and desiring to make a more minute record of it than
either the letter I addressed to you from Keswick, or my

Is charmed by nothing but material show.

And human life, as providental love

To man revealed by Omnipresent acts

Of watching tenderness, from Heaven at work, —

His numbers paint with philosophic grace,

And wisdom most benign. To him the scene

Of blent existence was divinely touched

With sacredness and awe, whence prayer and praise

Were due, and godless pride should learn to think,

And none seemed orphaned from the Father-God.

For, as in Nature, nothing is by Heaven

Forgotten, from the vaster forms of life

And being, down to each minutest speck,

But in the beam of God's parental eye

Remains for ever, — so, that social world,

Where MIND and WILL their awfulness unfold

And Character is moulded, to his gaze

An ordered scene of theocratic law

Presented, where enthroned, the Godhead reigned,

And all were precious, who His cause maintain, —

Possible angels, whom the SON redeemed.

All Nature thus made spiritually deep
By her significance of conscious life,
To man responsive, and the moral world
Where Providence to human will conjoins
Each plan and purpose, being hence enlinked
With glories uncreate, — no wonder MAN
A true Shekinah of transcendent powers
To Wordsworth seemed, — a soul of priceless cost,
Whose incarnation, in its meanest guise,
Involves more grandeur than ' the worlds ' contain.
Earth, space, and time, and all which tinselled pride
Amid the pageantries of wealth pursues,
Or mere Convention by her creed exacts,
Before it vanished ! — Individual mind *

* See The Excursion, passim.

REMINISCENCES. 497

journal written at the time contains, I gladly comply with
your request.

4 It was about noon on the 18th of August, 1849, that I
set out with my friends, from their house near Bowness,
to ride to Ambleside. Our route was along the shore of
Lake Windermere. It was my first day among the Eng-
lish lakes, and I enjoyed keenly the loveliness which was
spread out before me. My friends congratulated me on
the clearness of the atmosphere and the bright skies.
Twilight is all-important in bringing out the full beauty of
the Lake Region, and in this respect I was very fortunate.
I had already been deeply moved by the tranquil beauty
of Windermere, for, as I came out of the cottage, for-
merly Professor Wilson's, where I had passed the night,
there it lay in all its grandeur, its clear waters, its green
islands, and its girdle of solemn mountains. It was quite
dark when I had been conducted to this cottage the night
before, so that I saw the lake for the first time in the light
of early morning. The first impression was confirmed by
every new prospect as we rode along. The vale seemed
a very paradise for its sweet seclusion. I had been told
that after Switzerland, I should find little to attract me in
this region, but such was not the case. Nothing can be
more lovely than these lakes and mountains, the latter
thickly wooded, and rising directly from the water's edge.
The foliage is of the darkest green, giving to the lake in

To him became the summit of his song.
And, how he trembled into wordless prayer
And grew religious, when unfathomed depths
Of man's capacity for bliss, or woe,
Were opened, and on Faith's predictive eye
The soul's hereafter like a vision rose
Self-realized, for heaven, or hell, prepared !

R. MONTGOMERY.

VOL. ii. 32

498 REMINISCENCES.

which it is reflected the same sombre hue. It seemed the
fittest dwelling-place for a Poet, amid all this quiet beauty.

' It was half-past one when we reached Ambleside,
where I left Mr. and Mrs. B., and walked on alone to
Rydal Mount. I was full of eager expectations as I
thought how soon I should, perhaps, be in the presence of
Wordsworth — that after long years of waiting, of distant
reverential admiration and love, I was, as I hoped, to be
favoured with a personal interview with the great poet-
philosopher, to whom you and I, and so many, many
others, feel that we are under the deepest obligation for
the good which has come to us from his writings. At two
o'clock I was at the wicket gate opening into Wordsworth's
grounds. I walked along the gravel pathway, leading
through shrubbery to the open space in front of the long
two-story cottage, the Poet's dwelling. Your sketch of the
house by Inman is a correct one,* but it gives no idea of
the view from it, which is its chief charm. Rydal Mere
with its islands, and the mountains beyond it, are all in
sight. I had but a hasty enjoyment of this beauty ; nor
could I notice carefully the flowers which were blooming
around. It was evident that the greatest attention had
been paid to the grounds, for the flower-beds were taste-
fully arranged, and the gravel walks were in complete
order. One might be well content, I thought, to make his
abode at a spot like this.

4 A boy of about twelve years was occupied at one of

* [Mr. Inman, during his visit at Rydal Mount, had made a
pen-and-ink drawing of the Poet's dwelling, from which in the
next year he painted a landscape : it was the dying artist's last
work. After painting the two small figures in the foreground
— one of the Poet, and the other of the Painter making his
sketch — he retired (as he said to a friend) to his chamber to die.

REMINISCENCES. 499

the flower-beds, as I passed by ; he followed me to the
door, and waited my commands. I asked if Mr. Words-
worth was in. ... He was dining — would I walk
into the drawing-room, and wait a short time ? . . . I
was shown into the drawing-room, or study, I know not
which to call it. ... Here I am, I said to myself, in the
great Poet's house. Here his daily life is spent. Here
in this room, doubtless, much of his poetry has been
written — words of power which are to go down with
those of Shakspeare, and Spenser, and Milton, while our
English tongue endures. It was a long apartment, the
ceiling low, with two windows at one end, looking out on
the lawn and shrubbery. Many engravings were on the
walls. The famous Madonna of Raphael, known as that
of the Dresden Gallery, hung directly over the fire-place.
Inman's portrait of the Poet, your gift to Mrs. Words-
worth, being a copy of the one painted for you, had a
conspicuous place. The portrait of Bishop White, also
your gift (the engraving from Inman's picture) I also
noticed.

4 1 could have waited patiently for a long time, indulging
the thoughts which the place called up. In a few minutes,
however, I heard steps in the entry, the door was opened,
and Wordsworth came in, it could be np other — a tall
figure, a little bent with age, his hair thin and grey, and
his face deeply wrinkled. . . . The expression of his
countenance was sad, mournful I might say ; he seemed
one on whom sorrow pressed heavily. He gave me his
hand, and welcomed me cordially, though without smiling.
" Will you walk out, Sir, and join us at the table ? " said
he. " I am engaged to dine elsewhere." " But you can
sit with us," said he; so, leading the way, he conducted
me to the dining-room. At the head of the table sat Mrs.

500 REMINISCENCES.

Wordsworth ; and their three grand -children made up the
party. ... It was a humble apartment, not ceiled,
the rafters being visible ; having a large old-fashioned
chimney-place, with a high mantelpiece.

' Wordsworth asked after Mr. Ticknor, of Boston, who
had visited him a few months before, and for whom he
expressed much regard. Some other questions led me to
speak of the progress we were making in America, in the
extension of our territory, the settlements on the Pacific,
&c. ; all this involving the rapid spread of our English
tongue. Wordsworth at this looked up, and I noticed a
fixing of his eye as if on some remote object. He said
that considering this extension of our language, it behoved
those who wrote to see to it, that what they put forth was
on the side of virtue. This remark, although thrown out
at the moment, was made in a serious, thoughtful way ;
and I was much impressed by it. I could not but reflect
that to him a deep sense of responsibility had ever been,
present : to purify and elevate has been the purpose of all
his writings. Such may have been at that moment his
own inward meditation, and he may have had in mind the
coming generations who are to dwell upon his words.

' Queen Victoria was mentioned — her visit to Ireland
which had just been made — the courage she had shown.
" That is a virtue," said he, " which she has to a remark-
able degree, which is very much to her credit."

4 Inman's portrait of him I alluded to as being very fami-
liar to me, the copy which hung in the room calling it to
mind, which led him to speak of the one painted by Pick-
ersgill, for St. John's College, Cambridge. " I was a
member of that College," he said, " and the fellows and

REMINISCENCES. 501

students did me the honour to ask me to sit, and allowed
me to choose the artist. I wrote to Mr. Rogers on the
subject, and he recommended Pickersgill, who came down
soon afterwards, and the picture was painted here." He
believed he had sat twenty-three times. My impression is
he was in doubt whether Inman's or PickersgilPs portrait
was the better one.

••*•••
' He spoke with great animation of the advantage of
classical study, Greek especially. " Where," said he,
" would one look for a greater orator than Demosthenes ;
or finer dramatic poetry, next to Shakspeare, than that of
jEschylus and Sophocles, not to speak of Euripides ? "
Herodotus he thought " the most interesting and instruc-
tive book, next to the Bible, which had ever been written."
Modern discoveries had only tended to confirm the general
truth of his narrative. Thucydides he thought less of.

4 France was our next subject, and one which seemed
very near his heart. He had been much in that country
at the outbreak of the Revolution, and afterwards during
its wildest excesses. At the time of the September mas-
sacres he was at Orleans. Addressing Mrs. W. he said,
" I wonder how I came to stay there so long, and at a
period so exciting." He had known marly of the abbes
and other ecclesiastics, and thought highly of them as a
class ; they were earnest, faithful men : being unmarried,
he must say, they were the better able to fulfil their
sacred duties ; they were married to their flocks. In the
towns there seemed, he admitted, very little religion ; but
in the country there had always been a great deal. " I
should like to spend another month in France," he said,
" before I close my eyes." He seemed to feel deep com-
miseration for the sorrows of that unhappy country. It

502 REMINISCENCES.

was evidently the remembrance of hopes which in his
youth he had ardently cherished, and which had been
blighted, on which his mind was dwelling. I alluded to
Henry the Fifth, to whom many eyes were, I thought,
beginning to turn. With him, he remarked, there would
be a principle for which men could contend — legitimacy.
The advantage of this he stated finely.

4 There was tenderness, I thought, in the tones of his
voice, when speaking with his wife ; and I could not but
look with deep interest and admiration on the woman for
whom this illustrious man had for so many years cherished
feelings of reverential love.

" Peace settles where the intellect is meek,"

is a line which you will recall from one of the beautiful
poems Wordsworth has addressed to her ; and this seemed
peculiarly the temper of her spirit — peace, the holy calm-
ness of a heart to whom love had been " an unerring
light." Surely we may pray, my friend, that in the brief
season of separation which she has now to pass, she may
be strengthened with divine consolation.

4 1 cannot forbear to quote here that beautiful passage,
near the end of the great poem, " The Prelude," as an
utterance by the author of tender feelings in his own
matchless way. After speaking of his sister in tones of
deepest thankfulness, he adds,

" Thereafter came

One, whom with thee friendship had early paired ;
She came, no more a phantom to adorn
A moment, but an inmate of the heart,
And yet a spirit, there for me enshrined,
To penetrate the lofty and the low ;
Even as one essence of pervading light
Shines in the brightest of ten thousand stars,

REMINISCENCES. 503

And the meek worm that feeds her lonely lamp
Couched in the dewy grass."

4 1 have been led away from my narrative ; but I wished
to record the feelings which had arisen within me with

regard to this excellent lady ; she who has been, as

has so happily expressed it in his letter to you, " almost
like the Poet's guardian angel for near fifty years."

' 1 may here mention, that throughout the conversation
Wordsworth's manner was animated, and that he took
pleasure in it evidently. His words were very choice ;
each sentence seemed faultless. No one could have lis-
tened to his talk for five minutes, even on ordinary topics,
without perceiving that he was a remarkable man. Not
that he was brilliant ; but there was sustained vigour, and
that mode of expression which denotes habitual thought-
fulness.

' When the clock struck four, I thought it time for me
to go. Wordsworth told me to say to his friends in
America, that he and his wife were well ; that they had
had a great grief of late, in the loss of their only daugh-
ter, which he supposed they would never get over.* This
explained, as I have already mentioned, the sadness of

* [Another American gentleman, George S. Hillard, Esquire, of
Boston, (who will, I trust, pardon this public use of a private letter
without permission) writing to me in April, 1849, said respecting
an interview which he had with Wordsworth, the summer before:
' His mind had not felt in the slightest degree the touch of time,
and his health was good, his frame and countenance showing as
few of the marks of age as those of any person, so old, that I
have ever seen. * * I left him with my ideal image unstained
and unruffled. His daughter's death has thrown a deep and
abiding shadow over his path. In speaking of her he said that
the loss of her " had taken the sunshine out of his life." ' — H. a ]

504 REMINISCENCES.

his manner. Such strength of the affections in old age
we rarely see. And yet the Poet has himself condemned,
as you remember, in " The Excursion," long and per-
severing grief for objects of our love " removed from this
unstable world," reminding one so sorrowing, of

" that state

Of pure, imperishable blessedness
Which reason promises, and Holy Writ
Ensures to all believers."

But, as if foreseeing his own case, he has added, with
touching power,

" And if there be whose tender frames have drooped
Even to the dust, apparently through weight
Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power
An agonizing sorrow to transmute ;
Deem not that proof is here of hope withheld
When wanted most ; a confidence impaired
So pitiably, that having ceased to see
With bodily eye >, they are borne down by love
Of what is lost, and perish through regret."

4 The weakness of his bodily frame it was which took
away his power of tranquil endurance. Bowed down by
the weight of years, he had not strength to sustain' this
further burden, grief for a much-loved child. His mind,
happily, retained its clearness, though his body was
decaying.

' He walked out into the entry with me, and then asked
me to go again into the dining-room, to look at an oak
chest or cabinet he had there — a piece of old furniture
curiously carved. It bore a Latin inscription, which stated
that it was made 300 years ago, for William Wordsworth,
who was the son of, &c. &c., giving the ancestors of said
William for many generations, ajid ending " on whose

HEMTNISCENCES. 505

souls may God have mercy." » This Wordsworth repeated
twice, and in an emphatic way, as he read the inscription.
It seemed to me that he took comfort in the religious spirit
of his ancestors, and that he was also adopting the solemn
ejaculation for himself. There was something very im-
pressive in his manner.

1 1 asked to see the cast from Chantrey's bust of him,
which he at once showed me ; also a crayon sketch by
Haydon, which, I understood him to say, West had pro-
nounced the finest crayon he had ever seen. He referred
also to another sketch, by Margaret Gillies, I think, which
was there.

4 We then went out together on the lawn, and stood for
awhile to enjoy the views, and he pulled open the shrub-
bery or hedge in places, that I might see to better advan-
tage. He accompanied me to the gate, and then said if I
had a few minutes longer to spare he would like to show
me the waterfall which was close by — the lower fall of
Rydal. I gladly assented, and he led the way across the
grounds of Lady Fleming, which were opposite to his
own, to a small summer-house. The moment we opened
the door, the water-fall was before us ; the summer-house
being so placed as to occupy the exact spot from which it
was to be seen ; the rocks and shrubbery around closing it
in on every side. The effect was magfcal. The view
from the rustic house, the rocky basin into which the water
fell, and the deep shade in which the whole was enveloped,
made it a lovely scene. Wordsworth seemed to have
much pleasure in exhibiting this beauti-ful retreat; it is
described in one of his earlier poems, " The Evening
Walk."2

1 See above, Vol. I. p. 7.
a See above, Vol. I. p. 19.

506 REMINISCENCES.

As we returned together he walked very slowly, occa-
sionally stopping when he said anything of importance ;
and again I noticed that looking into remote space of
which I have already spoken. His eyes, though not glis-
tening, had yet in them the fire which betokened the
greatness of his genius. This no painter could represent,
and this it was which gave to his countenance its high
intellectual expression.*

' Hartley Coleridge he spoke of with affection. . . .
" There is a single line," he added, " in one of his
father's poems which I consider explains the after-life of
the son. He is speaking of his own confinement in Lon-
don, and then says,

' But thou, my child, shall wander like a breeze.' "

' Of Southey he said that he had had the misfortune to
outlive his faculties. His mind, he thought, had been

* [The physiognomical trait noticed above, (as after the receipt
of the letter I mentioned to the writer,) has been observed also by
professional study of the countenance : the Rev. R. A. Wilmott, in
his ' Journal of Summer Time in the Country,' p. 44, states that
one of the most accomplished of English portrait painters had
remarked to him, that he had observed in every celebrated person,
whose features he had copied, from the Duke of Wellington down-
wards, this looking of the eye, as it were, into infinity.

The following description is given by Leigh Hunt, in his ' Au-
tobiography,' Chap. xv. vol. ii. p. 13. — ' Walter Scott said that
the eyes of Burns were the finest he ever saw. I cannot say the
same of Mr. Wordsworth ; that is, not in the sense of the beau-
tiful, or even of the profound. But certainly I never beheld eyes
that looked so inspired or supernatural. They were like fires
half burning, half smouldering, with a sort of acrid fixture of
regard, and seated at the further end of two caverns. One might
imagine Ezekiel or Isaiah to have had such eyes.' — H. R.]

REMINISCENCES. 507

weakened by long watching by the sick bed of his wife,
who had lingered for years in a very distressing state.

' The last subject he touched on was the international
copyright question — the absence of protection in our
country to the works of foreign authors. He said, mildly,
that he thought it would be better for us if some acknowl-
edgment, however small, was made. The fame of his
own writings, as far as it was of pecuniary advantage to
him, he had long regarded with indifference ; happily, he
had an income more than sufficient for all his wants. . .
. . He remarked, he had once seen a volume of his
poems published in an American newspaper.

' I happened to have in my pocket the small volume of
selections, which you made some years ago. I produced
it, and asked at the same time if he had ever seen it. He
replied he had not. He took it with evident interest,
turned to the title-page, which he read, with its motto. He
began the preface then, in the same way. But here I
must record a trifling incident, which may yet be worth
noting. We were standing together in the road, Words-
worth reading aloud, as I have said, when a man accosted
us, asking charity — a beggar of the better class. Words-
worth, scarcely looking off the book, thrust his hands into
his pockets, as if instinctively acknowledging the man's
right to beg by this prompt action. He' seemed to find
nothing, however; and he said, in a sort of soliloquy, "I
have given to four or five, already, to-day," as if to
account for his being then unprovided.

4 Wordsworth, as he turned over one leaf after another,
said, " But I shall weary you, sir." " By no means,"
said I ; for I could have been content to stand there for
hours to hear, as I did, the Poet read from time to time,
with fitting emphasis, the choice passages which your
preface and biographical sketch contain. Imagine with

508 REMINISCENCES.

what delight I listened to the venerable man, and to hear,
too, from his own lips, such words as these, your own
most true reflection : " His has been a life devoted to the
cultivation of the poefs art for its best and most lasting
uses — a self -dedication as complete as the world has ever
witnessed." Your remark with regard to his having out-
lived many of his contemporaries among the poets, he
read with affecting simplicity ; his manner being that of
one who looked backward to the past with entire tranquil-
lity, and forward with sure hope. I felt that his honoured
life was drawing rapidly to a close, and with him there
was evidently the same consciousness.

1 He made but little comment on your notice of him.
Occasionally he would say, as he came to a particular
fact, "That's quite correct;" or, after reading a quota-
tion from his own works, he would add, " That's from my
writings." These quotations he read in a way that much
impressed me ; it seemed almost as if he was awed by
the greatness of his own power, the gifts with which he
had been endowed. It was a solemn time to me, this part
of my interview; and to you, my friend, it would have
been a crowning happiness to stand, as I did, by his side
on that bright summer day, and thus listen to his voice. I
thought of his long life ; that he was one who had felt him-
self from early youth " a renovated spirit singled out for
holy services " — one who had listened to the teachings of
Nature, and communed with his own heart in the seclusion
of those beautiful vales, until his thoughts were ready to
be littered for the good of his fellow-men. And there had
come back to him offerings of love, and gratitude, and
reverent admiration, from a greater multitude than had
ever before paid their homage to a living writer ; and these
acknowledgments have been for benefits so deep and last-
ing, that words seem but a poor return. But I will not

REMINISCENCES. 509

attempt to describe further the feelings which were strongly
present to me at that moment, when I seemed most to
realize in whose presence I stood.

' He walked with me as far as the main road to Amble-
side. As we passed the little chapel built by Lady Flem-
ing, which has been the occasion, as you remember, of
one of his poems, there were persons, tourists evidently,
talking with the sexton at the door. Their inquiries, I
fancied, were about Wordsworth, perhaps as to the hour of
service the next day, (Sunday,) with the hope of seeing
him there. One of them caught sight of the venerable
man at the moment, and at once seemed to perceive who
it was, for she motioned to the others to look, and they
watched him with earnest gaze. I was struck with their
looks of delighted admiration. He stopped when we
reached the main road, saying that his strength would not
allow him to walk further. Giving me his hand, he
desired again to be remembered to you and others in
America, and wished me a safe return to my friends, and
so we parted. I went on my way, happy in the recollec-
tion of this, to me, memorable interview. My mind was
in a tumult of excitement, for I felt that I had been in the
familiar presence of one of the noblest of our race ; and
this sense of Wordsworth's intellectual greatness had been
with me during the whole interview. I may speak, too, of
the strong perception of his moral elevation which I had at
the same time. No word of unkindness had fallen from
him. He seemed to be living as if in the presence of
God, by habitual recollection. A strange feeling, almost
of awe, had impressed me while I was thus with him.

4 Believing that his memory will be had in honour in all
coming time, I could not but be thankful that I had been
admitted to intimate intercourse with him then, when he

510 REMINISCENCES.

was so near the end of life. To you, my dear friend, I
must again say I owe this happiness, and to you it has
been denied. You also, of all others of our countrymen,
would have most valued such an interview, for to you the
great Poet's heart has been in an especial manner opened
in private correspondence. No other American has he
honoured in the same degree ; and by no one else in this
country has the knowledge and appreciation of his poetry
been so much extended. The love which has so long
animated you has been such, that multitudes have been
influenced to seek for joy and refreshment from the same
pure source.

' I have been led, as I said at the beginning of my let-
ter, to make this record, partly from your suggestion, and
partly from a remark of Southey which I have lately seen,
to the effect that Wordsworth was one of whom posterity
would desire to know all that can be remembered. You
will not, I trust, deem the incidents I have set down trivial ;
or consider any detail too minute, the object of which was
only to bring the living man before you. Now that he
has gone for ever from our sight in this world, I am led to
look back to the interview with a deeper satisfaction ; and
it may be that this full account of it will have value here-
after. To you it was due that I should make the record ;
by myself these remembrances will ever be cherished
among my choicest possessions.

4 Believe me, my dear friend,

4 Yours faithfully,

' ELLIS YARNALL.''

Mr. Wordsworth's character, as was said at the com-
mencement of this Memoir, is best studied in his Works.
They are his Life. The design of the present volumes,
which are now drawing to a close, has been to illustrate

REMINISCENCES. 511

those works by personal and local information ; and this
task having been performed, there remains little more to
be done than that a few observations should be added of a
general kind, and the narrative then be concluded.

The daily life of the Poet at Rydal was of an uniform
and regular kind. In 1847, the period of my last visit,
the course was as follows: — The hour at which the
family assembled in the morning was eight. The day
began with prayers, as it ended. The form of prayer
used was that compiled from the English and American
liturgies, by Dr. Hook. An intercessory prayer was used
for Miss Wordsworth, who was disabled by sickness from
being present. After breakfast the lessons of the day
(morning and evening) were read, and also the Psalms.
Dinner was at two. The final meal was at seven or eight.

The intervals between these meals were filled by walk-
ing, writing, reading, and conversation.

It would be superfluous to say to any who are acquainted
with Mr. Wordsworth's poems that his dominant feeling
was love. What he gave to others, and what he most
desired for himself, was love. l Give me your love, I
crave no other fee.' This feeling was indeed inexpressi-
bly tender toward those of his own family and friends. It
took possession of his soul, so as to be almost over-
powering.

His kindness to his servants was very remarkable. The
last time he was in Westminster Abbey was when he vis-
ited it to show it to one of them who had accompanied him
in his journey from Rydal. In a letter he thus speaks of
one of his female servants who had been very ill and died.

4 Our anxieties are over, and our sorrow is not without
heartfelt, I may say, heavenly, consolation. Dear, and
good, and faithful, and dutiful Jane breathed her last about
twelve o'clock last night. The doctor had seen her at

512 REMINISCENCES.

noon ; he found her much weaker. She said to him, " I
cannot stand now," but he gave us no reason to believe
her end was so very near. You shall hear all particulars
when we are permitted to meet, which God grant may be
soon. Nothing could be more gentle than her departure.

4 Yesterday, Mary read to her in my presence some
chapters from the New Testament, and her faculties were
as clear as any one's in perfect health, and so they have
ever been to the last.'

It hardly need be added, that with so much love for
others in lower stations he was of a humble spirit.

This was particularly the case in latter life. His trials
— especially the great trial of all — were rich in good
fruits. The loss of his beloved daughter, and, before her
loss, the apprehension of it, and the unselfishqess, unworld-
liness, and heavenly-mindedness of her disposition, es-
pecially in her sufferings, confirmed his own persuasion of
the vanity of human intellect, regarded simply as such,
and of all its powers and achievements, irrespective of a
higher and better world.

1 Heaven out of view, our wishes what are they ?
Our fond regrets, tenacious in their grasp ?
The sage's theory ? the poet's lay ? —
Mere fibulae without a robe to clasp,
Obsolete lamps whose light no time recals,
Urns without ashes, tearless lacrymals ! ' *

Writing to a friend, he says : ' I feel myself in so many
respects unworthy of your love, and too likely to become
more so.' (This was in 1844). ' Worldly-minded I am
not ; on the contrary, my wish to benefit those within my
humble sphere, strengthens seemingly in exact proportion
to my inability to realize those wishes. What I lament
most is, that the spirituality of my nature does not expand

* [Vol. iii. p. 237.]

REMINISCENCES. 513

and rise the nearer I approach the grave, as yours does,
and as it fares with my beloved partner. The pleasure
which I derive from God's works in his visible creation is
not with me, I think, impaired, but reading does not inter-
est me as it used to do, and I feel that I am becoming daily
a less instructive companion to others. Excuse this ego-
tism. I feel it necessary to your understanding what I
am, and how little you would gain by habitual intercourse
with me, however greatly I might benefit from intercourse
with you.'

The intimate friend to whom these lines were written
bears strong testimony to his humility. Indeed, he could
not have been what he was without it. As he said in a
letter to a friend,1 ' It is the habit of my mind inseparably
to connect loftiness of imagination with that humility of
mind which is best taught in Scripture.'

One of the consequences of this spirit of love and
humility was, that, although he looked with apprehension
and alarm at the destinies of England, yet he cherished a
spirit of faith and hope for the ultimate and complete
triumph of sound principles. Writing to a friend at a time
of public excitement, he thus speaks : ' After all (as an
excellent Bishop of the Scotch Church said to a friendly
correspondent of mine), " Be of good heart ; the affairs of
the world will be conducted as heretofore,- — by the fool-
ishness of man and the wisdom of God." '

> Above, p. 257.

[Before passing to the concluding chapter, I- would detain the
reader for a little while upon an impressive passage in Words-
worth's life, which has been described in a work published since
the completion of these < Memoirs ' — the 'Memoir of Hartley
Coleridge, by his Brother,' the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. — The
death of Hartley Coleridge took place on the 6th of January,
1849 : it must be borne in mind that it was to him — the child

VOL. ii. 33

514 REMINISCENCES.

of his friend — that Wordsworth, forty-seven years before, ad-
dressed those remarkable lines entitled, ' To H. C., six years old,'
in which an almost prophetic interest was afterwards disclosed.
What occurred on the day after Hartley Coleridge's death is thus
narrated by his brother :

' While I restrict myself to general terms in speaking of the
many affectionate regrets which were occasioned by my brother's
death, and which I doubt not this record of his life will awaken,
a word must be set apart for the aged friend, who having watched
with that insight, of which foresight is but the developed form,
his hopeful, fearful childhood, had seen him as he lay a dying man,
and now heard that he was no more. He was deeply affected.
Perhaps he remembered that the fear which he had so beautifully
expressed had proved more prophetic than the hope by which he
had put it from him, — that " the morrow " had come to him, and
many a morrow with a full freight of " injuries " —.from which
he had not been saved by an early, a sudden, or an easy death.
He dropt some hint of these thoughts, but his words were few,
and concluded by this touching request, or, I should say, direc-
tion : — " Let him lie by us — he would have wished it."

' The day following he walked over with me to Grasmere — to
the churchyard, a plain enclosure of the olden time, surrounding
the old village church, in which lay the remains of his wife's
sister, his nephew, and his beloved daughter. Here, having de-
sired the sexton to measure out the ground for his own and for
Mrs. Wordsworth's grave, he bade him measure out the space of
a third grave for my brother, immediately beyond.

' "When I lifted up my eyes from my daughter's grave," he
exclaimed, " he was standing there ! " pointing to the spot where
my brother had stood on the sorrowful occasion to which he
alluded. Then turning to the sexton he said, " Keep the ground
for us, — we are old people, and it cannot be for long."

1 In the grave thus marked out, my brother's remains were laid
on the following Thursday, and in little more than a twelvemonth
his venerable and venerated friend was brought to occupy his own.
They lie in the south-east angle of the churchyard, not far from a
group of trees, with the little beck, that feeds the lake with its
clear waters, murmuring by their side. Around them fere the
quiet mountains.' ' Poems of Hartley Coleridge, with a Memoir
of his Life by his Brother.' Vol. i. p. 184 - 186. — H. R.]

CHAPTER LX1V.

CONCLUSION.

ON Sunday, the 10th of March, 1850, Mr. Wordsworth
attended divine service at Rydal Chapel for the last time.
Between four and five o'clock in the afternoon of that day
he set out to walk to Grasmere, accompanied by Mr.
Quillinan and Miss Hutchinson. The weather was un-
genial, with a keen wind from the north-east; and Mr.
Wordsworth was lightly clad, as usual. He walked over
White Moss, and paid a visit to Mrs. Fisher, who had been
in his service when he lived at Town-End. He then
called at Mrs. Cookson's. Being there asked how Mrs.
Wordsworth was, he replied, 'Pretty well: but indeed,
she must be very unwell indeed for any one to discover it :
she never complains.' He had been reading the third
volume of Southey's Life and Correspondence, and con-
versed a good deal on that subject. His^ friends thought
him looking feeble : he had a stick in his hand, on which
he leaned when sitting in the house.

The next day Mr. Wordsworth, accompanied by Mrs.
Wordsworth and his two nieces, called at Mr. Quillinan 's
house, to bid him good bye before his departure to pay a
visit to a friend near Carlisle : he then walked on to Fox-
how, to see Mrs. Arnold ; and thence to Ambleside, where
he called at Mrs. Nicholson's, and returned home to
Rydal.

516 CONCLUSION.

On the afternoon of the following day, Mr. Wordsworth
went towards Grasmere, to meet his two nieces, who were
coming from Town-End. He called at the cottage near
the White Moss quarry, and, the occupant not being within,
he sat down on the stone seat of the porch to watch the
setting sun. It was a cold, bright evening. His friend
and neighbour, Mr. Roughsedge, came to drink tea at
Rydal ; but Mr. Wordsworth, not being well, went early
to bed.

On the 14th he complained of pain in his side ; and the
medical advice l of Mr. Fell and Mr. Green, of Ambleside,
was resorted to. On the 20th the symptoms of the dis-
order assumed a more serious aspect. The throat and
chest were affected, and the pleura were inflamed. In
order to subdue the bronchial and pleuric inflammation, it
had been thought requisite to resort to medical discipline,
which had much reduced his strength, and left him in a
state of exhaustion, debility, and lethargy, from which he
was not able to rally. He seemed to feel much repug-
nance both for medicine and food. From this time the
reports of his bodily condition fluctuated from day to day
for more than a fortnight.

Sunday, 7th April. — Mr. Wordsworth completed his
eightieth year to-day : he was prayed for in Rydal Chapel,
morning and afternoon.

In a diary kept by a young lady, a near connection of
Mr. Wordsworth, is the following entry, on Saturday, the
20th:

1 Dr. Davy attended Mr. Wordsworth as a friend during part of
his last illness. Dr. D. was not at Ambleside when Mr. Wordsworth
was taken ill, and did not return thither till Saturday, April 6.

CONCLUSION. 517

'At eleven this morning I went up to the Mount.
William Wordsworth came in while I was in the dining-
room, and asked me if I would go up stairs and see his
father, who is becoming weaker every day. I met Mr.
John Wordsworth, coming out of his father's room, very
much affected. He had just been administering the Holy
Communion to Mr. Wordsworth, who, when asked whether
he would receive it, replied, " That is just what I want."
When I stood by his bed-side (he does not get up now)
and kissed him, he pressed my hand, but did not speak.

R afterwards came into his room, and said to him,

14 Here is your god-daughter ; " to which he faintly mur-
mured, " God bless you ! " '

On or about this day, Mrs. Wordsworth, with a view of
letting him know what the opinion of his medical advisers
was concerning his case, said gently to him, 'William, you
are going to Dora.' He made no reply at the time, and the
words seemed to have passed unheeded ; indeed, it was not
certain that they had been even heard. More than twenty-
four hours afterwards one of his nieces came into the
room, and was drawing aside the curtain of his chamber,
and then, as if awakening from a quiet sleep, he said, 4 Is
that Dora?'

Tuesday, April 23d. — The report this morning was,
4 Mr. Wordsworth is much the same.' . . . And so he
remained till noon. . . . The entry in Mr. Quillinan's
journal for this day is as follows : * Mr. Wordsworth
breathed his last calmly, passing away almost insensibly,
exactly at twelve o'clock, while the cuckoo clock was
striking the hour.'

Wordsworth died on the same day as that on which

518 CONCLUSION.

Shakspeare was born, April 23d, being also the day of
Shakspeare's death.

On Saturday, the 27th, his mortal remains, followed to
the grave by his own family and a very large concourse
of persons, of all ranks and ages, were laid in peace, near
those of his children, in Grasmere churchyard. His own
prophecy, in the lines,

' Sweet flower ! belike one day to have
A place upon thy Poet's grave,
I welcome thee once more,' l

is now fulfilled. He desired no splendid tomb in a public
mausoleum. He reposes, according to his own wish, be-
neath the green turf, among the dalesmen of Grasmere,
under the sycamores and yews of a country churchyard,
by the side of a beautiful stream, amid the mountains
which he loved ; and a solemn voice seems to breathe
from his grave, which blends its tones in sweet and holy
harmony with the accents of his poetry, speaking the
language of humility and love, of adoration and faith, and
preparing the soul, by a religious exercise of the kindly
affections, and by a devout contemplation of natural
beauty, for translation to a purer, and nobler, and more
glorious state of existence, and for a fruition of heavenly
felicity.

1 Vol. ii. p. 129.

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