CHAPTER XXIX.

VISITS TO LONDON, 1815-1820: HENRY CRABB ROBINSON :

LIFE AT RYDAL MOUNT.

FROM Henry Crabb Robinson's Diary we learn that the Wordsworths were in London in the spring of 1815. His remarks on those he met in society are so vivid, and his literary judgments frequently so just, that some extracts from his Diary may fitly begin this chapter.

He

April 16, 1815.-In the evening, in my chambers, enjoyed looking over Wordsworth's new edition of his poems. The 'supplement' to his Preface I wish he had left unwritten, for it will afford a triumph to his enemies. betrays resentment, and that he has suffered pain. His reproaches of the bad taste of the times will be ascribed to merely personal feelings, and to disappointment. But his manly avowal of his sense of his own poetic merits, I by no means censure. His preface contains subtle remarks on poetry, but they are not clear or intelligible; and I wish he would incorporate all his critical ideas into a work of taste, in either the dialogue or novel form, otherwise his valuable suggestions are in danger of being lost. His classification of his poems displeases me from an obvious fault, that it is partly subjective and partly objective.

May 9. Took tea with the Lambs. Mr and Mrs Wordsworth there. . . . W., in answer to the common reproach that his sensibility is excited by objects which produce no effect on others, admits the fact, and is proud of it. He says that he cannot be accused of being insensible to the real concerns

of life. He does not waste his feelings on unworthy objects, for he is alive to the actual interests of society. I think the justification complete. If W. expected immediate popularity he would betray his ignorance of public taste, reproachful to a man of character.

W. spoke of the changes in his new poems. He has substituted ebullient' for 'fiery,' speaking of the nightingale; and 'jocund' for laughing' applied to the daffodils; but he will probably restore the original epithets. We agreed in preferring the original reading; but on my gently alluding to the line, 'Three feet long by two feet wide,' and confessing that I dared not read them aloud in company, he said, 'They ought to be liked!'

Wordsworth particularly recommended to me among his Poems of Imagination, Yew Trees, and a description of Night. These, he says, are amongst the best for the imaginative power displayed in them. I have since read them. They are fine; but I believe I do not understand in what their excellence consists. W. himself, as Hazlitt has well observed, has a pride in deriving no aid from his subject. It is the mere power, which he is conscious of exerting, in which he delights; not the production of a work in which men rejoice, on account of the sympathies and sensibilities it excites in them. Hence he does not much esteem his Laodamia, as it belongs to the inferior class of poems founded on the affections. Yet in this, as in other peculiarities of Wordsworth, there is a German bent in his mind.

June 4.... Came home to read The White Doe of Rylstone. This legendary tale will be less popular than Walter Scott's, from the want of that vulgar intelligibility, and that freshness and vivacity of description which please even those who are not of the vulgar. Still the poem will be better liked than better pieces of W.'s writing. There is

a delicate sensibility, and an exquisite moral running through the whole, but it is not the happiest of his narrative poems.

June 15.-. . . I called on Wordsworth at his lodgings, and spent the forenoon with him, walking. We talked about Hazlitt in consequence of a malignant attack on W. by him in Sunday's Examiner. W. on that very day called on Hunt, who in a manly way asked whether W. had seen the paper of the morning, saying if he had he would consider his call as a higher honour. He disclaimed the article.

This led to W. mentioning the cause of his coolness towards H. It appears that H. when at Keswick narrowly escaped being ducked by the populace, and probably sent to prison The populace were incensed against him, and pursued him, but he escaped to W., who took him into his house at midnight, gave him clothes, and money (from £3 to £5). Since that time W., though he never refused to meet H., when by accident they came together, did not choose that with his knowledge he should be invited. In consequence Lamb never asked H. while W. was in town, which probably provoked H., and which Lamb himself disapproved of. But L., who needs very little indulgence for himself, is very indulgent towards others, and never reproaches W. for being inveterate against H. . .

Wordsworth spoke with interest of his White Doe, as an imaginative poem, especially the ascription of more than human feelings to that animal, in connection with the tragic story, which is purified and elevated by it.

...

a numerous and odd set.

Of Basil Montagu, Wordsworth says he is a philanthropised courtier.

June 28.-Called on Godwin.

He was lately with Wordsworth; and, after spending a night at his house, seems to have left him with very bitter and hostile feelings.

I was

I believe political opinions alone kept them aloof. not disgusted with G., for I have learned to bear with the intolerance of others, when I understand it; and I should not agree entirely with Wordsworth if I were now with him. . . . I am sorry that W. cannot change with the times. He ought, I think, now to exhort our government to economy, and to represent the dangers of a thoughtless return to all that was in existence twenty-five years ago. Stulti in contraria currunt: and wise men, and great men, when carried away by strong feelings, run with fools. Of the integrity of W. I have no doubt, as of his genius I have an unbounded admiration, but I doubt the discretion and wisdom of his latest political writings."

On the same subject Robinson wrote later :

Wordsworth perhaps carried too far his forbearance of the renewed abuses and corruptions of the restored monarchs, because he thought any evil they could inflict under a domestic government would be slight, compared with the utter slavery which would have prevailed over Europe, had Buonaparte ultimately triumphed; whilst such men as Godwin and Hazlitt were ready to love Buonaparte, as the enemy of their enemies."

In September 1816, Robinson visited Westmoreland, and gives an interesting account of his experience in his Diary. His account of Rydal Mount, as it was in 1816, is as follows:

Sept. 5.-We reached Wordsworth near seven o'clock. .. The evening was very fine, and we for the first time perceived all the beauties (glories they might be called) of Rydal Mount. It is so situated as to afford from the windows of both sitting-rooms a direct view of the valley, with the head of Windermere at its extremity; and from a terrace in the garden, a view into Rydal Water, and the winding of the valley in that direction. These views are of

very different character, and at different periods of the day must supply the deficiencies of each other, arising from superabundance or want of light.

It was a serious gratification to behold so great and good a man as Wordsworth in the bosom of his family enjoying those comforts which are apparent to the eye. He has two sons and a daughter surviving. They appear to be amiable children. And, adding to these external blessings the mind of the man, he may justly be considered as one of the most enviable of mankind. The injustice of the public towards him, in regard to the appreciation of his works, he is sensible of. But he is aware that, though the great body of readers -the admirers of Lord Byron, for instance-cannot and ought not to be his admirers too, still he is not without his fame. And he has that expectation of posthumous renown, which has cheered many a poet who has had less legitimate claims to it, and whose expectations have not been disappointed.

On

Sept. 6. This day was devoted to an excursion to Patterdale. The road is on the ascent for about three miles. the summit there is still only a view of other mountains, and the road is dreary, for to the right is a naked rocky mountain, over which a few sheep are seen straying, and the shepherd's dogs are heard barking. At the distance of between 4 or 5 miles Brother's or Broader Water is seen below. In returning I had formidable labour to encounter, to walk nine miles, two being one uninterrupted ascent, and that in steady rain. I underwent the labour, and again still more admired the lofty, insular, and concealed mountains, which crowd round Brother's Water. I contrived, ascending Kirkstone, to read Wordsworth's ballads; and I was even more delightfully affected than by the incomparable idyll, The Brothers.

Sept. 10th... . Lodore. . . . There is no very great