T.

Then it was

Thanks to the bounteous Giver of all good!
That the beloved Sister in whose sight

Those days were passed, now speaking in a voice
Of sudden admonition — like a brook

That did but cross a lonely road, and now

Is seen, heard, felt and caught at every turn,
Companion never lost through many a league —
Maintained for me a saving intercourse

With my true self; for, though bedimmed and changed
Much, as it seemed, I was no further changed

Than as a clouded and a waning moon:

She whispered still that brightness would return,
She, in the midst of all, preserved me still

A Poet, made me seek beneath that name,
And that alone, my office upon earth.

The following from one of Dorothy's letters at this time will reveal how lonely the brother must have been in his perplexity. She writes: "The fortunate brother of mine happens to be no favourite with any of his near relations except his brothers, by whom he is adored, I mean John and Christopher." The former was at sea, the latter at Cambridge.

With the proceeds of Calvert's legacy the dreams of the two enthusiasts about beginning life together were realized, and they settled at Racedown Lodge, Dorsetshire, in the summer of 1795. The old farmhouse was delightfully situated in a retired part of the country reached by post only once a week. Here they spent their time in reading, writing, gardening, communing with themselves, with Nature and books. The period of Wordsworth's recovery from the tyranny of intellectual research was here completed, and pessimism forever cast aside, by the creation of that gruesome tragedy, "The Borderers," the only production of these days at Racedown. While this is of little value as poetry, it is most significant as biography. Through the creation of the philosophical villain Oswald, who is moved by "the motive hunting of a motiveless malignity," Wordsworth revealed what was the inevitable outcome of Godwin's revolutionary scheme of Political Justice a scheme that in the interest of reason would free man from all the laws, social and moral, upon which society is founded.

With the completion of "The Borderers" the great formative period of Wordsworth's life is at an end, and the first creative period begins. Coleridge had but recently settled at Nether Stowey, and on hearing that the author of " Descriptive Sketches was so near, took an early opportunity (in June) of visiting him. Dorothy tells us "the first thing that was read on that occasion was 'The Ruined Cottage' with which Coleridge was so much delighted; and after tea he repeated to us two acts and a half of his tragedy, 'Osorio.' The next morning William read his tragedy, 'The Borderers.'"

That this was a clear case of love at first sight is shown by the letters written to their friends at this time. Dorothy writes: "You had a great loss in not seeing Coleridge. He is a wonderful man. His conversation teems with soul, mind, and spirit. . . . He has more of the poet's eye in fine frenzy rolling' than I ever witnessed. He has fine dark eyebrows and an overhanging forehead." Coleridge in his account of this visit says: "I speak with heartfelt sincerity, and, I think, unblinded judgment, when I tell you that I feel myself a little man by his side." When the Wordsworths returned this visit and went to Nether Stowey, Coleridge gives this beautiful picture of Dorothy: "W. and his exquisite sister are with me. She is a woman indeed! in mind and heart; for her person is

such that if you expected to see a pretty woman, you would think her rather ordinar if you expected to see an ordinary woman, you would think her pretty! but her manne are simple, ardent, impressive. In every motion her most innocent soul outbeams brightly, that who saw her would say :

Her information various. Her eye watchful in minutest observation of nature; and h taste a perfect electrometer." Wordsworth wrote, "Coleridge is the most wonderful ma I ever met."

After reading the expressions of delight of these two young men in each other, we a not surprised that a month later the Wordsworths removed to Alfoxden, near Neth Stowey, Somersetshire, where Coleridge resided.

The poets rambled over the Quantock Hills and held high communion. During o of these excursions, feeling the need of money, they planned a joint production for th New Monthly Magazine. They set about the work in earnest, and selected as a su ject the "Ancyent Marinere," founded upon a dream of one of Coleridge's friends. Col ridge supplied most of the incidents and almost all the lines. Wordsworth contribute the incident of the killing of the albatross, and a few of the lines. They soon found the their methods did not harmonize, and the "Marinere " was left to Coleridge, while Word worth wrote upon the common incidents of everyday life. When the "Marinere " w finished Wordsworth had so many pieces ready that they concluded to publish a joint vo ume, and this they did under the title Lyrical Ballads. The volume contained twent three poems, four by Coleridge and the remainder by Wordsworth.

In the manuscript notes which Wordsworth left we find this record :—

"In the autumn of 1797, Mr. Coleridge, my sister, and myself started from Alfoxd pretty late in the afternoon with a view. to visit Linton and the Valley of Stones near to i and as our united funds were very small, we agreed to defray the expense of the tour writing a poem to be sent to the New Monthly Magazine. Accordingly, we set off, a proceeded along the Quantock Hills towards Watchet; and in the course of this wal was planned the poem of the Ancient Mariner' founded on a dream, as Mr. Coleridg said, of his friend Mr. Cruikshank. Much the greatest part of the story was Mr. Col ridge's invention, but certain parts I suggested; for example, some crime was to be con mitted which should bring upon the Old Navigator, as Coleridge afterwards delighted call him, the spectral persecution, as a consequence of that crime and his own wandering I had been reading in Shelvocke's Voyages, a day or two before, that while doubli Cape Horn, they frequently saw albatrosses in that latitude, the largest sort of sea fow some extending their wings twelve or thirteen feet. 'Suppose,' said I, 'you represent hi as having killed one of these birds on entering the South Sea, and that the tutelary spiri of these regions take upon them to avenge the crime.' The incident was thought fit f the purpose, and adopted accordingly. I also suggested the navigation of the ship by t dead men, but do not recollect that I had anything more to do with the scheme of the poe The gloss with which it was subsequently accompanied was not thought of by either of at the time, at least, not a hint of it was given to me, and I have no doubt it was a gratu tous afterthought. We began the composition together on that, to me, memorable evenin I furnished two or three lines at the beginning of the poem, in particular,

'And listened like a three years' child:

The Mariner had his will.'

ese trifling contributions, all but one, which Mr. C. has with unnecessary scrupulosity corded,

pped out of his mind, as well they might. As we endeavoured to proceed conjointly (I eak of the same evening) our respective manners proved so widely different that it would we been quite presumptuous in me to do anything but separate from an undertaking on which I could only have been a clog. . . . The Ancient Mariner' grew and grew till became too important for our first object, which was limited to our expectation of fiv., unds; and we began to think of a volume which was to consist, as Mr. Coleridge has ld the world, of poems chiefly on supernatural subjects."

An interesting subject for consideration in connection with the study of literature would the work poets have done in developing patriotism by showing how much stronger and eper is the love of country when thus associated with the love of home with its simple substantial comforts and its endearments of natural associations, rivers, woods and Ils, forests, lakes and vales: and also, how by revealing the beauty of places in a antry they have made it more beloved. There is fascinating wandering in Ireland, Jales, Scotland, and England for one who wishes to read such poetry in the scenes of its rth, and such wandering is the very best lesson in political as well as literary history. The region of Dorsetshire and Somersetshire, with a wealth of natural beauty, forest ad hills, cultivated farms, open sea prospect, and simple life, was an ideal place for the eation of such poetry as these enthusiasts on man, on Nature, and on human life desired give to the world. In Dorothy's letters and journal we have the best of guides in these lightful retreats. She writes: "There is everything here,- sea, woods, wild as fancy ver painted, brooks, clear and pebbly as in Cumberland; villages romantic... the deer well here and sheep, so that we have a living prospect." While the two poets were mururing near the running brooks a music sweeter than their own, and Dorothy was beginning jose inimitable Journals which have become an essential part of the history of these and ter days, somewhat of a sensation was caused in the quiet community of Stowey by the dvent there of a young republican by the name of Thelwall, with whom Coleridge had ane correspondence. When he arrived Coleridge was with the Wordsworths; and he rites to his wife: "So after sleeping at Coleridge's cot, Sara and I went to Alfoxden in me enough to call Samuel and Wordsworth up to breakfast."

Coleridge says of Thelwall (Table-Talk, July, 1820): "We were once sitting in a eautiful recess in the Quantocks, when I said to him, 'Citizen John, this is a fine place to alk treason in!''Nay, Citizen Samuel,' he replied, 'it is rather a place to make a man orget that there is any necessity for treason.''

Coleridge's lectures and preaching and Wordsworth's secluded life with his sister, had, wen before the arrival of Thelwall, aroused the suspicions of the good people. They hought Wordsworth a smuggler, a conjurer, and as he was" so silent and dark," a French lacobin. Poole was blamed for harboring such suspects (it was through Poole that Wordsforth secured Alfoxden), and now a government spy was sent down to watch their sovements. The Anti-Jacobin published the following:

"Thelwall and ye that lecture as ye go,

And for your pains get pelted,

Praise Lepaux!

And ye five other wandering bards that move

In sweet accord of harmony and love,

C-dge, and S-th-y, L-d and L-b, and Co.,
Tune all your mystic harps to praise
Lepaux."

Coleridge, writing to Cottle of the experience of Wordsworth, says: "Wheth shall be able to procure him a house and furniture near Stowey we know not, and y must; for the hills, and the woods, and the streams, and the sea, and the shores, v break forth into reproaches against us, if we did not strain every nerve to keep their among them."

The Lyrical Ballads were rapidly taking shape. Wordsworth, Dorothy, and Cole had decided to visit Germany to study the language, and the thought of breaking up Elysian repose among the Quantocks throws the poet into one of his pensive mood which the affections gently lead him on. In "The Nightingale," Coleridge returns his love and his nest," and finds joy in the thoughts that spring from the simple dom affections, from the delightful associations with man and Nature in the sylvan retrea the land he loved.

That summer, under whose indulgent skies
Upon smooth Quantock's airy ridge we roved
Uncheck'd, or loitered 'mid her sylvan combs,
Thou in bewitching words, with happy heart,
Didst chaunt the vision of that Ancient Man,
The bright-eyed Mariner, and rueful woes
Didst utter of the Lady Christabel;

And I, associate with such labour, steeped

In soft forgetfulness the livelong hours,

Murmuring of him who, joyous hap, was found,

After the perils of his moonlight ride,

Near the loud waterfall; or her who sate
In misery near the miserable Thorn.

The Lyrical Ballads were published in September by Cottle anonymously. Only poems were by Coleridge, the remainder by Wordsworth.

Before the reviewers had brought their guns to bear upon the frail craft of the Ly Ballads, the two poets and Dorothy, having left Mrs. Coleridge and the children Poole, departed for Germany, where they soon received the cheerful news from that "the Lyrical Ballads are not liked at all by any." And yet through the quiet r lution in poetic taste which this little volume wrought, the Bastile of the old po tyranny was destined to fall to the ground.

So stupendous was the importance of the verse written on the Quantocks in 1797 1798," says Edmund Gosse, "that if Wordsworth and Coleridge had died at the clos the latter year, we should, indeed, have lost a great deal of valuable poetry, especiall Wordsworth's; but the direction taken by literature would scarcely have been modi in the slightest degree. The association of these intensely brilliant and inflammat minds at what we call the psychological moment, produced full-blown and perfect exquisite new flower of romantic poetry."

Soon Coleridge left the Wordsworths for Ratzeburg, where he remained during winter, while they went to the old imperial town of Goslar, where, though cold and ho sick, Wordsworth wrote his inimitable poems on English girlhood. Wordsworth s these poems to Coleridge, who, while thinking of the future and hoping that th

mes would be in the same neighborhood, wrote: "Whenever I spring forward into the ture with noble affections, I always alight by your side."

In the spring of 1799 the Wordsworths set out for home, and the poet voiced their elings in the first lines of "The Prelude." They went to visit their friends the Hutchsons at Sockburn, and when Coleridge returned in June of this year he visited them ere. On the conclusion of this visit, Cottle, Coleridge, and Wordsworth began a tour the lake country. Cottle left the party at Greta Bridge, and they were then joined Wordsworth's brother John. They were especially delighted with Grasmere, and as ordsworth was ready to begin housekeeping with his sister, he rented Dove Cottage at avement End and took up his abode there in December. The first book of "The Reuse," entitled "Home at Grasmere," gives a vivid picture of the life at Dove Cottage. The second and greatest creative period in Wordsworth's work begins with the settleent at Grasmere. From this time the external events of his life become of less impornce, and those subtle and elemental forces within, "calm pleasures and majestic pains," hich enabled him to reach the mount of vision, are of first interest. These must be en in the history of the poems created here, and in those aspects of Nature and man hich they reflect. In this shy retreat of the mountains dedicated to the genius of Soliide he attained that view of life as clear and true, as courageous and steadfast, as joyous ad hopeful, as is to be found anywhere in our literature. In his walks with Dorothy ad the sailor brother, and, later - when the circle became widened with Mary and ara Hutchinson, Coleridge, Lamb, Scott, and Sir Humphrey Davy, he revealed the rich arvest of the time in verse of humble theme but noble thought. To one familiar with is verse every lake and tarn, fellside and mountain height, beck and ghyll, from Penth to Morecambe Bay, from Cockermouth to the Duddon Sands, is luminous with

lere "The Recluse," the first half of "The Excursion," ," "The Prelude," and those revoationary Prefaces, so vigorous in critical insight and sound in reflective wisdom upon the ature of Poetic Diction, were written. These reveal his devotion to Nature, to man, and ♦ his art, and are literary masterpieces essentially Wordsworthian.

Of the long poems, "The Prelude" is probably the most read and "The Excursion " be most talked about. "The Prelude " is a sustained exercise of memory, an attempt recapture something of the first fine careless rapture which makes the life of that healthy by a continuous poem. Here the past and the present are brought to act upon each ther in such a way as to cause the pulses of his being to beat anew; consciousness of netic power is awakened, and hymns to Nature are poured forth. In "The Excursion," hile still paying tribute to Nature, Wordsworth seeks light upon the great problems of he constitution and powers of the mind of man, the haunt and main region of his song. lamination comes to him, in those lonely vigils of contemplation, on the simple yet surrising and strange perceptions and emotions of his own mind and heart. Gems of the dyll, ode, and proverb lie thickly scattered in the pages of "The Excursion." While yone he may be called philosophical, by another psychological, and by a third mystical, jet everywhere he has the patience, the love of truth, and the reverence of the scientific observer. While he is thus the central figure in the poem, it is not because he gives thanks that he is not as other men are, but because he must seek authentic revelations in his own experience. He is always mindful of the fact that the humblest dalesman is rich