eldest son, John, was born, on June 18th, 1803.

His

eldest daughter, Dorothy (or Dora, as she was called, to distinguish her from her aunt Dorothy), was born on the 16th of August 1804, her mother's birthday. A second son, Thomas, was born on the 16th of June 1806; another daughter, Catherine, on the 6th September 1808; and the third son, William, on the 12th of May 1810. Many allusions to his children occur throughout the poems, especially to Dora, whose picture is drawn in The Longest Day and in The Triad.

For detailed information as to the circumstances under which the poems were composed, and the years to which they belong, readers of this Life must refer to the notes in the earlier volumes of the edition. The chronological table is, unfortunately, not quite accurate; information, obtained since it was compiled, having led me to change some dates.* Incidents referred to in these (and in Miss Fenwick's) notes may be further illustrated, however, by letters, and memoranda of various kinds. It is with a view of illustrating the poems, by exhibiting what manner of man the poet was, rather than of giving a critical estimate of either, that these memoranda are brought together.

A special interest attaches to Wordsworth's relations to the more eminent of his contemporaries in literature. During the Scottish tour of 1803 he made the acquaintance of Walter Scott.

"It was in the September of this year that Scott first saw Wordsworth. Their common acquaintance, Stoddart, had so often talked of them to each other, that they met as if they had not been strangers; and they parted friends.

* The errors in the chronological table of this edition, and others which survive in the subsequent table given in the Transactions of "The Words. worth Society," are corrected in the volume of Selections from Wordsworth by members of that Society, which will be published this autumn.

Mr and Miss Wordsworth had just completed that tour in the Highlands, of which so many incidents have been immortalised, both in the poet's verse, and in the hardly less poetical prose of his sister's diary. On the morning of the 17th of September, having left their carriage at Rosslyn, they walked down the valley to Lasswade, and arrived there before Mr and Mrs Scott had risen. We were received,' Mr Wordsworth has told me, with that frank cordiality which, under whatever circumstances I afterwards met him, always marked his manners; and, indeed, I found him then in every respect-except perhaps that his animal spirits were somewhat higher-precisely the same man that you knew him in later life; the same lively, entertaining conversation, full of anecdote, and averse from disquisition; the same unaffected modesty about himself; the same cheerful and benevolent and hopeful views of man and the world. He partly read and partly recited, sometimes in an enthusiastic style of chant, the first four cantos of The Lay of the Last Minstrel; and the novelty of the manners, the clear picturesque descriptions, and the easy, glowing energy of much of the verse, greatly delighted me.'

After this he walked with the tourists to Rosslyn, and promised to meet them in two days at Melrose. The night before they reached Melrose they slept at the little quiet inn of Clovenford, where, on mentioning his name, they were received with all sorts of attention and kindness,-the landlady observing that Mr Scott, 'who was a very clever gentleman,' was an old friend of the house, and usually spent a good deal of time there during the fishing season; but, indeed, says Mr Wordsworth, wherever we named him, we found the word acted as an open sesame; and I believe, that in the character of the Sheriff's friends, we might have counted on a hearty welcome under any roof in the Border county.'

He met them at Melrose on the 19th, and escorted them through the Abbey, pointing out all its beauties, and pouring out his rich stores of history and tradition. They then dined, and spent the evening together at the inn; but Miss Wordsworth observed that there was some difficulty about arranging matters for the night, 'the landlady refusing to settle anything until she had ascertained from the Sheriff himself that he had no objection to sleep in the same room with William.' Scott was thus far on his way to the Circuit Court at Jedburgh, in his capacity of Sheriff, and there his new friends again joined him; but he begged that they would not enter the court, for,' said he, 'I really would not like you to see the sort of figure I cut there.' They did see him casually, however, in his cocked hat and sword, marching in the judges' procession to the sound of one cracked trumpet, and were then not surprised that he should have been a little ashamed of the whole ceremonial. He introduced to them his friend William Laidlaw, who was attending the court as a juryman, and who, having read some of Wordsworth's verses in the newspaper, was exceedingly anxious to be of the party, when they explored at leisure, all the law-business being over, the beautiful valley of the Jed, and the ruins of the Castle of Ferniehurst, the original fastness of the noble family of Lothian. The grove of stately ancient elms about and below the ruin was seen to great advantage in a fine, grey, breezy autumnal afternoon; and Mr Wordsworth happened to say, 'What life there is in trees!' 'How different,' said Scott, 'was the feeling of a very intelligent young lady, born and bred in the Orkney Islands, who lately came to spend a season in this neighbourhood! She told me nothing in the mainland scenery had so much disappointed her as woods and trees. She found them all so dead and lifeless, that she could never help pining after the eternal motion and variety of the ocean.

And so back she has gone, and I believe nothing will ever tempt her from the wind-swept Orcades again.'

Next day they all proceeded together up the Teviot to Hawick, Scott entertaining his friends with some legend or ballad connected with every tower or rock they passed. He made them stop for a little to admire particularly a scene of deep and solemn retirement, called Horne's Pool from its having been the daily haunt of a contemplative schoolmaster known to him in his youth; and at Kirkton he pointed out the little village schoolhouse to which his friend Leyden had walked six or eight miles every day across the moors 'when a poor barefooted boy.' From Hawick, where they spent the night, he led them next morning to the brow of a hill, from which they could see a wide range of the border mountains, Ruberslaw, the Carter, and the Cheviots; and lamented that neither their engagements nor his own would permit them to make at this time an excursion into the wilder glens of Liddesdale, 'where,' said he, I have strolled so often and so long, that I may say I have a home in every farm house.' 'And indeed,' adds Mr Wordsworth, wherever we went with him, he seemed to know everybody, and everybody to know and like him.' Here they parted-the Wordsworths to pursue their journey homeward by Eskdale-he to return to Lasswade." *

On the 16th of January, 1805, Wordsworth wrote to Scott from Grasmere, urging him to come and visit the Lake Country. He said

"If you come next summer Southey will alınost certainly be at Keswick, and I hope Coleridge also; although it will be the duty of all his friends to do their utmost in forcing him from the country, to which he is so much attached, but

* Lockhart's Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Vol. ii., pp. 160-164.

the rainy climate disagrees with him miserably. When Coleridge has found out a residence better suited to his state of health, we shall remove and settle near him. I mention these things that you may be prevailed upon to come and see us here, while we are yet such near neighbours of yours, and inhabitants of a country, the more retired beauties of which we can lead you to better than anybody else. . . .

I am very glad to hear of your farm on Tweedside. You will be quite in the district of your own most interesting local feelings, a charming country besides; and I was not a little glad it brought you so much nearer to us, instead of removing you so much further away from us. I sincerely wish you fortune in your farming labours, good crops, thriving cattle, and little vexation.

On the other side you will find a few stanzas, which I hope (for the subject at least) will give you some pleasure.* I wrote them, not without a view of pleasing you, soon after our return from Scotland, though I have been too lazy to send them to you till now. They are in the same sort of metre as the Leader Haughs, and I have borrowed the name Burn-mill meadow from that poem, for which I wish you would substitute something that may really be found in the Vale of Yarrow. Believe me, your sincere friend, W. WORDSWORTH."

On the 7th of March 1805 Wordsworth wrote to Scott, on his sister's receiving from him a copy of The Lay of the Last Minstrel :

"DEAR SCOTT,-We have at last received your poem, for which my sister returns you her sincere thanks. High as our expectations were, I have the pleasure to say that

* Yarrow Revisited.