it were?

He said,

Lamb did not object to this rejected stanza. 'It is full of imagination.' No doubt of that, and what if But though he did not object to that passage, he disliked the whole poem. He saw nothing good in it. He objected that the narrative is slow. My journal adds, 'As if that were not the art of the poet.' I might have said that to object to a want of progress in a poet is as absurd as to object to the dancer that he does not get on. In both alike the object is to give delight by not getting on. ... But I know no resource against the perplexity, arising from the diversity of opinion in those I look up to, but a determination to disregard all opinion, and keep to my own natural feeling.

The Colliers, Wordsworths, and the Lambs joined to tea and supper at A. Robinson's. Wordsworth spoke freely on the character of Fox, to whom he denied the higher qualities of mind,―philosophy and religion; and with reason denied his assertion of human rights on matters of religion, to be a proof of religion. On the politics of the time of the Irish Revolution, he also spoke; and attempted, but unsuccessfully against A. Robinson's attacks, to defend Coleridge's consistency. He spoke of Johnson's style, and denied him style, as well as poetry; allowed his excellence in conversation, and considered his false notions concerning the dignity of writing as the cause of his bad writing. There was, however, no offensive opposition of opinion during the evening. C. Lamb was very pleasant, and comfortable, and we broke off at the right time for him.

June 11th.-At chambers I was unexpectedly visited by Wordsworth. He was come up from Bocking suddenly, in consequence of tidings of the sudden death of his daughter Catherine, a girl of four years of age, and he was going to write to Mrs Wordsworth. His language was that

which became a man, both of feeling and of strength of

| mind.

I walked with him to Coleridge; and we called on a Mr De Quincey, a friend who had lately visited the lakes, Mr De and was greatly attached to the little child. Quincey burst into tears on seeing Wordsworth, and seemed to be more affected than the father.

His person

June 17th. . . . Dined with De Quincey, who invited me cordially to visit his cottage in Cumberland. De Q. is, like myself, an enthusiast for Wordsworth. is small, his complexion fair, and his air and manner those of a sickly enfeebled man, from which circumstance his sensibility-which I have no doubt is genuine—is in danger of being mistaken for a ruling and womanly weakness. At least coarse, and some robustly healthful persons will think so. His conversation is sensible, and I suppose him to be a man of information on general subjects.

[Under date, July 26, there is an admirable criticism of Goethe's Dichtung und Wahrheit, and on the 13th and 20th of August, an excellent criticism of Faust.]

-a

Aug. 13th.-Coleridge praised Wallenstein, but censured Schiller for "a sort of ventriloquism in poetry "—a happy term by the bye to express that common fault of throwing the feelings of the writer into the body, as it were, of other personages, the characters of the poem. In Ruth, as it stands at present, there is the same fault. Wordsworth had not

originally put into the mouth of the lovers many of the sentiments he now mentions, and which would have better become the poet himself."

In the Diary, there is a long account of De Quincey, and of his extreme kindness to Coleridge, but also of the unwarrantable disclosures-in his papers on the "Poets of the Lake Country," first published in the Edinburgh Magazine, and afterwards in his own book-of private matters, of which he became acquainted while a guest of the Words

worths for some months. Wordsworth one day said to Robinson, "with great earnestness," "I beg that no friend of mine will ever tell me a word of the contents of these papers. And I daresay he was substantially obeyed.

It

was a year or two afterwards (for these papers went on for a long time, and were very amusing), however, that I ventured to say, "I cannot help telling one thing that De Quincey says in his last number; that Mrs W. is a better wife than you deserve." "Did he say that?" W. exclaimed in a tone of unusual vehemence. 'Did he · say that? That is so true, that I can forgive him almost anything else he says." Yet writing of Mrs W. in terms of the most extravagant eulogy, he could not refrain from concluding " But she squints."?

As mentioned in Robinson's Diary, Wordsworth went down to Wales at once for Mrs Wordsworth, and returned with her to the bereaved home at the Parsonage of Grasmere.

CHAPTER XXVII.

LIFE AT RYDAL MOUNT-THE DISTRIBUTORSHIP OF STAMPS

TOUR IN SCOTLAND.

EARLY in 1813, the Wordsworth family removed from the Parsonage, Grasmere, to Rydal Mount-a place that has been more permanently identified with him than any of his former residences, although his best poetic work was done elsewhere. This special association of Wordsworth with Rydal has perhaps arisen from his long residence at it—thirtyseven years-from the numerous friends he received as his guests during these years of increasing fame, and from the singular charm of the place itself.

The Mount, as it was in 1850, has been admirably described by the poet's nephew, in an early chapter of his Memoirs. The house itself, the trees and evergreens, the mound in front, the terraces, the garden, its arbour, its old well, Dora's field, the view of the surrounding country, and the interior-all are photographed for us in that chapter. It has been subsequently written about, a score of times.* Wordsworth himself spoke of "the beauty of the situation, as being backed and flanked by lofty fells, 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

* In William Howitt's Homes and Haunts of the most eminent British Poets, it is picturesquely described; but the Bishop of Lincoln's account is by far the best that we possess.

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."

On her coming to Rydal, Dorothy Wordsworth wrote thus to Mrs Marshall, from the Parsonage.

"RYDAL MOUNT, Thursday Morning, 1813. Arrived yesterday. The weather is delightful, and the place a paradise; but my inner thoughts will go back to Grasmere. I was the last person who left the house yesterday evening. It seemed as quiet as the grave; and the very churchyard, where our dead lie, when I gave a last look upon it, seemed to cheer my thoughts. Then I could think of life and immortality. The house only reminded me of desolate gloom, emptiness, and cheerless silence. But why do I now turn to these things? The morning is bright, and I am more cheerful." [She then asks for a novel to be sent from Waterwillock,. to Mrs Coleridge at Keswick.]

Some time before he left Grasmere, Wordsworth had asked Lord Lonsdale if he could, directly or indirectly, procure him any office, by means of which his income might be increased, and at the same time leisure might be left him, to pursue the literary work, to which he had devoted his life. His correspondence with the Earl of Lonsdale on this, as well as other points, has all been preserved.*

Wordsworth's acquaintance with Lord Lonsdale began shortly after the purchase of the property under Place Fell, referred to in a previous chapter. On the 19th August 1806 he wrote thus to the Earl, in reference to his gift:

*

Through the courtesy of Lord Lonsdale and his Factor, I have lately had the opportunity of examining one hundred and seventeen letters of Wordsworth's to the fourth Earl, ranging from the year 1806 to 1835, and more than half of that number written to Viscount Lowther. These letters are preserved in Lowther Castle.