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the Lakes, with two of his schoolfellows.

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He is to come to

Cambridge next October. . . The idea of having him so near is, you will imagine, very agreeable to me. I hope we shall see much of each other. He is a most amiable young man." [Speaks of the prospect of a settlement "in about a year" of the Lonsdale claims.] "I have been three times at Norwich lately, which is something extraordinary, as we stir little from home. These three journeys produced three visits to the theatre. . . . I rise about six every morning; and, as I have no companion, walk with a book till halfpast eight, if the weather permits; if not, I read in the house. Sometimes we walk in the mornings, but seldom more than half-an-hour, just before dinner. After tea we all walk together till about eight, and I then walk alone, as long as I can, in the garden. I am particularly fond of a moonlight or twilight walk. It is at this time I think most of my absent friends. My brother William was with us. six months* in the depth of winter. You may recollect that at that time the weather was exceedingly mild. used to walk every morning about two hours; and every evening we went into the garden, at four or half-past four, and used to pace backwards and forwards till six. Unless you have accustomed yourself to this kind of walking, you will have no idea that it can be pleasant; but I assure you it is most delightful, and if you and I happened to be together in the country (as we probably may), we shall try how you like my plan, if you are not afraid of the evening air."

We

* So it is written, but she must mean weeks, not months. Wordsworth graduated in January, and went to London in February, 1791.

CHAPTER V.

LONDON: FRANCE: THE REVOLUTION.

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IN February 1791 Wordsworth went up from Cambridge to
London, where he stayed for three months.
For the par-
ticulars of his residence there we are mainly indebted to his
autobiographical poem. In it he apostrophises the city as
a "Grave Teacher, stern Preceptress!"

In the seventh and

eighth books he describes both his glimpse of the metropolis
in 1788, when he was a "transient visitant," and his longer
stay and fuller impressions in 1791. Still earlier, how-
ever, in his Hawkshead schooldays, one of his companions,
a cripple from birth, had been sent to London, and on
his return to the north the boy Wordsworth scanned him
curiously; and was rather disappointed to find that he had
not been changed in look and air from having been even for
a day or two in that “fairy land" of his young imagination.
The most mysterious thing to him-in that village where
each was known to all-was to find that people in London
could be next-door neighbours, and yet not know each
other's names !

In the seventh book of The Prelude he describes the
common sights of the metropolis in no commonplace fashion.
He speaks of the characters he met with, the pantomimic
scenes he witnessed, and the degradation as well as the
gaiety of the town. It may surprise some to know that the
theatre was "his dear delight." In seeking out and
chronicling those links that "bind the perishable hours of
life" together, he records some trivial things, and some

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incidents, which belonged (as he puts it) to "the suburbs of the mind"; although none were really trivial to his eye. He went to the Law Courts, to listen to the pleadings of the barristers; to the Houses of Parliament, to hear the speeches of statesmen. Poor parents with sick children in their arms, blind beggars in the streets, mobs in the thoroughfares, the booths of strolling vendors, puppet shows at St Bartholomew's festival; all had a new human interest to him. The motley picture might be wearisome to one who did not look at it steadily, and see it whole; but to one who had, "amongst least things, an under-sense of greatest," who "saw the parts as parts, but with the feeling of the whole," it was far otherwise. The great lesson which Wordsworth bore away with him, from these few weeks' experience of London life was this: he realised more than ever before, and more than was possible elsewhere, "the unity of man.” He saw one spirit predominant over the ignorance and vice of the city. This was, in fact, the same great and radical truth which he had learned before, amongst the silence of the hills-the sense of Unity, of Harmony, of Law, of Order, and of Love everywhere diffused, though often hidden under strange guises. The same idea now kept him at rest, in his first experience of the real turmoil of city life, kept him anchored securely, while the vessel in which he sailed rocked temporarily upon the waters.

The eighth book of The Prelude is entitled "Retrospect: Love of Nature leading to love of Man"; and it traces what he owed while in London to the influence that followed him from the place of his nativity and upbringing. In spite of all that had been done and suffered-and of what was then being done and then suffering in the great cityhe felt that he could still converse with a hidden Majesty and Power. Neither the vice nor the misery he witnessed

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could shake his trust in what human nature might yet become. He had been taught amongst the hills to believe in man, and in man's destiny, in an Infinite Living Power, in a Providence that was world-wide, and that "rolled through all things," guiding every object in external Nature equally; and how could he cease to believe in its sovereignty over man, notwithstanding the apparent chaos of our present life?

On the 26th June Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Miss Pollard :

FORNCETT, Sunday Morning, June 26, 1791. "I often hear from my brother William, who is now in Wales, where I think he seems so happy that it is probable he will remain there all the summer, or a great part of it." [She refers to her brother Kit, and says], "his disposition is of the same caste as William's, and his inclinations have taken the same turn, but he is much more likely to make his fortune. He is not so warm as William, but has a most affectionate heart. His abilities, though not so great perhaps as his brother's, may be of more use to him; as he has not fixed his mind upon any particular species of reading, or conceived an aversion to any. He is not fond of mathematics, but has resolution sufficient to study them, because it will be impossible for him to obtain a fellowship without them. William, you may have heard, lost the chance (indeed the certainty) of a fellowship, by not cómbating his inclinations. He gave way to his natural dislike to study so dry as many parts of mathematics, consequently could not succeed at Cambridge. He reads Italian, Spanish, French, Greek, Latin, and English, but never opens a mathematical book. We promise ourselves much pleasure from reading Italian together at some time. He wishes that I was acquainted with the Italian poets. William

has a great attachment to poetry; so indeed has Kit, but William particularly, which is not the most likely thing to produce his advancement in the world. His pleasures are chiefly of the imagination. He is never so happy as when in a beautiful country. Do not think in what I have said that he reads not at all, for he does read a great deal; and not only poetry, and other languages he is acquainted with, but history, &c., &c. Kit has made a very good proficiency in learning. He is just seventeen. At October '92 we shall lose him at Cambridge." [Tells of riding a good deal. She had a horse of her uncle's.] "The country about, though not romantic or picturesque, is very pleasing; the surface slowly varied; and we have great plenty of wood, but a sad want of water."

Leaving London in the end of May 1791, Wordsworth paid a visit to his friend Robert Jones at Plas-yn-llan, in the Vale of Clwydd. From his friend's house he wrote thus to another fellow-student at Cambridge, William Mathews:

"PLAS-YN-LLAN, NEAR RUTHIN,
“DENBIGHSHIRE, June 17, 1791.

You will see by the date of this letter that I am in Wales, and whether you remember the place of Jones' residence or no, you will immediately conclude that I am with him. I quitted London about three weeks ago, where my time passed in a strange manner, sometimes whirled about by the vortex of its strenua inertia, and sometimes thrown by the eddy into a corner of the stream. Think not, however, that I had not many pleasant hours. . . . My time has been spent since I reached Wales in a very agreeable manner, and Jones and I intend to make a tour through its northern counties,-on foot, as you will easily suppose.'

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