integrity." In any subsequent edition of the Prose Works, however, these notes will require careful revision.

ST. ANDREWS, October 1, 1878.

WILLIAM KNIGHT.

CHAPTER I.

COCKERMOUTH, ETC.

IT is to the autobiographical poem, The Prelude, that one naturally turns to find out how Wordsworth felt towards Cockermouth, the place of his birth; and how he interpreted the surrounding district.

In the first book, alluding to the Derwent, he says that

1 One, the fairest of all rivers, loved

To blend his murmurs with my nurse's song,
And from his alder shades and rocky falls,
And from his fords and shallows, sent a voice
That flowed along my dreams. For this, didst thou
O Derwent! winding among grassy holms
Where I was looking on, a babe in arms,

Make ceaseless music that composed my thoughts
To more than infant softness, giving me
Amid the fretful dwellings of mankind
A foretaste, a dim earnest, of the calm

That Nature breathes among the hills and groves?
When he had left the mountains and received
On his smooth breast the shadow of those towers
That yet survive, a shattered monument
Of feudal sway, the bright blue river passed
Along the margin of our terrace walk;
A tempting playmate whom we dearly loved.
Oh, many a time have I, a five years' child,

B

In a small mill-race severed from his stream,
/Made one long bathing of a summer's day

Basked in the sun, and plunged and basked again
Alternate, all a summer's day, or scoured

The sandy fields, leaping through flowery groves
Of yellow ragwort; or when rock and hill,
The woods, and distant Skiddaw's lofty height,
Were bronzed with deepest radiance, stood alone
Beneath the sky, as if I had been born

On Indian plains, and from my mother's hut
Had run abroad in wantonness, to sport

A naked savage, in the thunder shower.1

The "mill-race" may easily be guessed, but is too vaguely described to be known with accuracy; and the "sandy fields " must be those close to the "race" itself. The "towers" are, of course, those of Cockermouth Castle. The "terrace walk" is at the foot of the garden attached to the old mansion in the town in which he was born, and in which his father, who was law-agent of the Lonsdale family, resided.

Two of the sonnets composed in 1833 refer to his birthplace; the first, suggested In sight of the Town of Cockermouth (where the Author was born, and his Father's remains are laid); the second, An Address to the Spirit of Cockermouth Castle. Neither of them need be quoted; but another in the same series, and of the same date, addressed To the River Derwent, is as follows:

3

Among the mountains were we nursed, loved Stream! Thou near the eagle's nest-within brief sail,

I, of his bold wing floating on the gale,

Where thy deep voice could lull me! Faint the beam

1 Prelude, book i. p. 14.

2 Poetical Works, vol. iii. p. 146.

3 Ibid.

Of human life when first allowed to gleam
On mortal notice.-Glory of the vale,

Such thy meek outset, with a crown, though frail,
Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam

Of thy soft breath !-Less vivid wreath entwined
Nemæan victor's brow; less bright was worn,
Meed of some Roman chief—in triumph borne
With captives chained; and shedding from his car
The sunset splendours of a finished war
Upon the proud enslavers of mankind !1

It was in reference to this home of his childhood that, in 1801, he wrote the poem he called The Sparrow's Nest; the "sister Emmeline" referred to in it being his only sister, Dorothy.

Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.

I started-seeming to espy

The home and sheltered bed,

The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by

My Father's house, in wet or dry

My sister Emmeline and I

Together visited.

She looked at it, and seemed to fear it ;
Dreading, tho' wishing, to be near it :
Such heart was in her, being then
A little Prattler among men.
The Blessing of my later years
Was with me when a boy :

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;

1 Poetical Works, vol. iii. p. 145.

And humble cares, and delicate fears :

A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
And love, and thought, and joy.1

In the thirteenth book of The Prelude there is an allusion to an experience of childhood, which must refer to Cockermouth, and which I do not think any one has hitherto traced out :—

Who doth not love to follow with his eye
The windings of a public way? the sight,
Familiar object as it is, hath wrought
On my imagination since the morn
Of childhood, when a disappearing line
One daily present to my eyes, that crossed
The naked summit of a far-off hill
Beyond the limits that my feet had trod,
Was like an invitation into space
Boundless, or guide into eternity.2

For a hint in reference to this road, I have been indebted to Dr. Henry Dodgson of Cockermouth. Referring to a suggestion that it might be the road leading to Bridekirk, Dr. Dodgson writes (July 1878), "I scarcely think that road answers to the description. The hill over which it goes is not naked, but well wooded, and has probably been so for many years. Besides, it is not visible from Wordsworth's house, nor from the garden behind it. This garden extends from the house to the river Derwent, from which it is separated by a wall, with a raised terraced walk on the inner side, and nearly on a level with the top. I understand that this terrace was in existence in the poet's time.

1 Poetical Works, vol. i. p. 148.

2 Prelude, book xiii. p. 341.