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intended to be a deadly aim, and comparing the reputation of the identical poetry then, with what it now is, there is manifestly a growing power in it, which if it continue for some years longer at the same rate, will make that reputation colossal. Jeffrey has none of the spirit of poetry in him- not the least. He has a smart, lively, reckless and heartless wit, which has stood him in good stead. But he could not comprehend the depth of Byron, immoral and dissolute as it was. Still less can he feel the affinity of Mr. Wordsworth's spirit with all that is good, and tender and kind in our nature, or seek with him the remnant of God's image in our fallen condition. He is what we call a 'smart fellow.' His pretensions have in nothing been sustained. His appearance in the House of Lords as an advocate in a Scotch appeal, in 1817, was a total failure. So was his effort in the House of Commons within a few years past. His success has been chiefly owing to the daring application of the motto of his review —I should rather say, the inhuman perversion of it. Letting him pass, however, as not worthy to be named in the same page with Mr. Wordsworth, I am exceedingly pleased with the article, which is pure in its doctrine and refreshing because it is pure, deeply and well-meditated, and the workmanship highly creditable.'

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It will not lessen the authority of this reminiscence that the writer's name has its distinction not in literature but by his career as a lawyer and a statesman; it was written by the Hon. John Sergeant, then the representative of Philadelphia in Congress. The article alluded to was one on Wordsworth, in the 'New York Review,' Vol. IV., January, 1839, which classed Wordsworth along with Chaucer, Spenser, Shakspeare and Milton, as one of the five poets of the highest order whom five centuries of English poetry have produced.-H. R.]

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CHAPTER XVIII.

RESIDENCE AT GRASMERE.

SHORT VISIT TO FRANCE.

DAY after day passed on at the cottage, Grasmere, with little variation, except what was derived from seeing new scenes and composing new poems. The following brief notes, extracted from a diary kept by Miss Wordsworth, may serve to give a correct idea of the life there. This journal is full of vivid descriptions of natural beauty, as observed at Grasmere.

In perusing these extracts the reader will observe notices of the occasions, on which several of Mr. Wordsworth's poems were composed.

'Friday, October 3, 1800. — Very rainy all the morning. William walked to Ambleside after dinner; I went with him part of the way.

When William and I returned from accompanying Jones, we met an old man almost double. His face was interesting. He was of Scotch parents, but had been born in the army. He had had a wife, "a good woman, " all and it pleased God to bless us with ten children; these were dead but one, of whom he had not heard for many years, a sailor. His trade was to gather leeches, but now leeches were scarce, and he had not strength for it. He had been hurt in driving a cart, his leg broke, his body driven over, his skull fractured; he felt no pain till he recovered from his first insensibility. It was then late in the evening when the light was just going away.'

11.

'Oct. 10, 1801.- Coleridge went to Keswick. Mr. and Mrs. Sympson came in after tea and supped with us.

[This Mr. Sympson was the clergyman of Wytheburn, a very interesting person. His character is drawn in the description of the graves of the Churchyard among the Mountains, in 'The Excursion.' 1]

'Oct. 24.

Went to Greenhead Ghyll, and the Sheep

fold. [Described in Michael.']

'Nov. 6. — Coleridge came.

Nov. 9.- Walked with Coleridge to Keswick.

'Nov. 18. William walked to Rydal. . . . The lake

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of Grasmere beautiful. The church an image of

peace;

1 The following note concerning one of this family is from Mr. Wordsworth's pen (vol. iii. p. 252).

"There bloomed the strawberry of the wilderness,

The trembling eyebright showed her sapphire blue."

'These two lines are in a great measure taken from "The Beauties of Spring, a Juvenile Poem," by the Rev. Joseph Sympson. He was a native of Cumberland, and was educated in the vale of Grasmere, and at Hawkshead school. His poems are little known, but they contain passages of splendid description; and the versification of his "Vision of Alfred" is harmonious and animated. In describing the motions of the sylphs, that constitute the strange machinery of his Poem, he uses the following illustrative simile:

"Glancing from their plumes,

A changeful light the azure vault illumes.
Less varying hues beneath the Pole adorn
The streamy glories of the Boreal morn,
That wavering to and fro their radiance shed

On Bothnia's gulf with glassy ice o'erspread," &c. &c.

'He was a man of ardent feeling, and his faculties of mind, particularly his memory, were extraordinary. Brief notices of his life ought to find a place in the History of Westmoreland.'

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he wrote some lines upon it. The mountains indistinct; the lake calm, and partly ruffled; a sweet sound of water falling into the quiet lake. A storm gathering in Easedale; so we returned; but the moon came out, and opened to us the church and village. Helm Crag in shade; the larger mountains dappled like a sky.

'Nov. 24. Read Chaucer. We walked by Gell's cottage. As we were going along we were stopped at once, at the distance perhaps of fifty yards, from our favourite birch tree it was yielding to the gust of wind, with all its tender twigs; the sun shone upon it, and it glanced in the wind like a flying sunshiny shower: it was a tree in shape, with stem and branches, but it was like a spirit of After our return William read Spenser to us, and then walked to John's grove. Went to meet W.

water.

'Jan. 31, 1802. - We walked round the two lakes, Grasmere and Rydal. . . When I came with William, six and a half years ago, it was just at sunset, there was a rich yellow light on the waters, and the islands were reflected there; to-day it was grave and soft. The sun shone out before we reached Grasmere. We sat by the road-side, at the foot of the lake close by M.'s name. William cut it to make it plainer.

· Feb. 5. — William came with two affecting letters from Coleridge, resolved to try another climate. .. Translated two or three of Lessing's fables. At this time William hard at work on The Pedlar.2

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'Feb. 16. - Mr. Grahame called; said he wished William had been with him the other day. He was riding in a post-chaise; heard a strange cry; called to the chaisedriver to stop. It was a little girl crying as if her heart

1 Sir W. Gell's.

2 The original name of 'The Excursion.'

would burst. She had got up behind the chaise, and her cloak had been caught by the wheel: she was crying after it. Mr. G. took her into the chaise, and the cloak was released, but it was torn to rags. It had been a miserable cloak before; but she had no other, and this was the greatest sorrow that could befall her. Her name was Alice Fell. At the next town Mr. G. left money to buy her a new cloak. 'Feb. 19. After tea I wrote out the first part of Peter

Bell.

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'March, Wednesday.-W. reading Ben Jonson. Thursday.-W. writing the Singing Bird, or the Sailor's Mother. Mr. Clarkson came.

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Friday. Read the remainder of Lessing. W. wrote Alice Fell.

'Saturday.-W. wrote the poem of the Beggar Woman, taken from a woman whom I had seen nearly two years ago, when he was absent at Gallow Hill, and had thus described: "On Tuesday, May 27th, a very tall woman called at the door; she had on a very long brown cloak, and a very white cap without bonnet; she led a little bare-footed child about two years old by the hand, and said her husband was gone before with the other children. I gave her a piece of bread. Afterwards, on my road to Ambleside, beside the bridge at Rydal, I saw her husband sitting by the road-side, his two asses standing beside him, and the two young children at play upon the grass. The man did not beg. I passed on; and about a quarter of a mile further I saw two boys before me, one about ten, the other about eight years old, at play, chasing a butterfly. They were wild figures: the hat of the elder was wreathed round with yellow flowers; the younger, whose hat was only a rimless crown, had stuck it round with laurel leaves. They continued at play till I drew very near, and then they addressed me with the

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