homes would be in the same neighborhood, wrote: "Whenever I spring forward into the future 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 feelings in the first lines of "The Prelude." They went to visit their friends the Hutchinsons at Sockburn, and when Coleridge returned in June of this year he visited them there. On the conclusion of this visit, Cottle, Coleridge, and Wordsworth began a tour of the lake country. Cottle left the party at Greta Bridge, and they were then joined by Wordsworth's brother John. They were especially delighted with Grasmere, and as Wordsworth was ready to begin housekeeping with his sister, he rented Dove Cottage at Pavement End and took up his abode there in December. The first book of "The Recluse," 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 settlement at Grasmere. From this time the external events of his life become of less importance, and those subtle and elemental forces within, “calm pleasures and majestic pains,” which enabled him to reach the mount of vision, are of first interest. These must be seen in the history of the poems created here, and in those aspects of Nature and man which they reflect. In this shy retreat of the mountains dedicated to the genius of Solitude he attained that view of life as clear and true, as courageous and steadfast, as joyous and hopeful, as is to be found anywhere in our literature. In his walks with Dorothy and the sailor brother, and, later when the circle became widened- - with Mary and Sara Hutchinson, Coleridge, Lamb, Scott, and Sir Humphrey Davy, he revealed the rich harvest of the time in verse of humble theme but noble thought. To one familiar with this verse every lake and tarn, fellside and mountain height, beck and ghyll, from Penrith to Morecambe Bay, from Cockermouth to the Duddon Sands, is luminous with

the gleam,

The light, that never was, on sea or land,
The consecration and the poet's dream.

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

Of the long poems, "The Prelude " is probably the most read and "The Excursion" the most talked about. "The Prelude " is a sustained exercise of memory, an attempt to recapture something of the first fine careless rapture which makes the life of that healthy boy a continuous poem. Here the past and the present are brought to act upon each other in such a way as to cause the pulses of his being to beat anew; consciousness of poetic power is awakened, and hymns to Nature are poured forth. In "The Excursion," while still paying tribute to Nature, Wordsworth seeks light upon the great problems of the constitution and powers of the mind of man, the haunt and main region of his song. Illumination comes to him, in those lonely vigils of contemplation, on the simple yet surprising and strange perceptions and emotions of his own mind and heart. Gems of the idyll, ode, and proverb lie thickly scattered in the pages of "The Excursion." While by one he may be called philosophical, by another psychological, and by a third mystical, yet 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

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in revelations for the wisest philosopher, could he but enter into his world. Hence he has conceived of characters in humble life with a purity, delicacy, insight, and sympathy achieved by no other poet. The Pedlar, Michael, and the Leechgatherer have become through him heroes of history. In his treatment of such characters we have a complete illustration of what he meant by that famous sentence in his Preface of 1800: “That the feeling therein developed gives importance to the action and situation, and not the action and situation to the feeling." If one would understand the secret of the shorter poems one should ponder over these two sources of poetic power "The Prelude " and "The Excursion." James Russell Lowell says: "Wordsworth has won for himself a secure immortality by a depth of intuition which makes only the best minds at their best hours worthy, or indeed capable, of his companionship, and by a homely sincerity of human sympathy which reaches the humblest heart. Our language owes him gratitude for the habitual purity and abstinence of his style, and we who speak it, for having emboldened us to take delight in simple things, and to trust ourselves to our own instincts." When in 1800 a second edition of the Lyrical Ballads was published, somewhat enlarged, it contained the famous Preface which set forth his theory of poetry in general and of his own poetry in particular; this called down upon him a storm of abuse second only to that caused by the poems themselves. From this time until 1815 neglect, obloquy, ridicule, and disparagement followed his work. It is to these years that we owe his fearless, if not altogether prudent, Apologies. In 1802 the first Preface was enlarged, and an Appendix on "Poetic Diction" added. These were repeated in successive editions of his poems until 1815, when, in the edition of that year, the first volume contained a new preface and a supplementary essay of the poetry of the last two centuries; while at the close of the second volume was placed the first Preface and the Appendix on "Poetic Diction." These Prefaces were changed by alterations, insertions, and omissions, in the various editions until they received their last revision in 1845.

While it is true that Wordsworth silenced his opponents by his poems rather than by his Prefaces, the two are so inter-related that the history of one is the history of the other. Of no artist can it be more truly said than of Wordsworth that he builded better than he knew. Artists cannot expiain the secret of their art, and yet they can at times reveal to us much that is helpful to an appreciation of their work. Every artist brings into the world of art a new thing - his own personality—and consequently he must create the taste by which he is to be judged. In these Prefaces we have the principles which constitute the foundation of inductive criticism clearly and forcefully revealed; the fundamental of these is that

You must love him ere to you

He will seem worthy of your love.

If they had been productive in nothing else than stimulating Coleridge to write those noble chapters in the Biographia Literaria, in review of the theory they set forth, they would have justified themselves.

The great satisfaction which came to Wordsworth from his friendship with Coleridge was that he was understood; this helped him to endure the public ridicule of many long years. Nothing in the history of Coleridge's critical genius better illustrates the unerring precision with which he discerned the elements of greatness where to the ordinary mind there seemed to be only the commonplace. Witness the marvelously subtle skill in preparing the way for his final masterly tribute to the genius and work of his friend — the noblest tribute yet written by any English critic by first discriminating between Fancy

and Imagination, and then revealing the true nature of poetry, where he says: "Finally, good sense is the body of poetic genius, fancy its drapery, motion its life, and imagination the soul that is everywhere, and in each; and forms all into one graceful and intelligent whole." He then apparently assents to the most obvious accusations of the Reviewers, only to rise at last to the heights of his great argument, showing step by step how misguided they have been, and concluding with those six fundamentals which entitle Wordsworth to poetic greatness.

The only events of importance in Wordsworth's external life during these Grasmere days were his marriage in 1802 to Mary Hutchinson, the friendship with Sir George Beaumont begun in 1803, and the death of his brother John in 1805. By his marriage to the friend of his youth the home circle was enriched by the presence and devotion of

A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.

In the atmosphere of serene domestic sweetness grew that poetry full of modesty and strength, of valiant human-heartedness, and homely spiritual truth; a poetry which makes common cause with all that is true to the kindred points of heaven and home. Between 1803 and 1808 four children were born to him and the little cottage became too small for the family. In 1808 he moved to Allan Bank across the lake and under the shadow of Silver How. Here "The Excursion" was completed. It was during his residence at Allan Bank that the estrangement with Coleridge took place an estrangement both wicked and cruel, for which neither poet was in the least to be blamed. By it that idyllic friendship begun when they "wantoned in wild poesy" among the Quantocks was broken up. The world can never know the full significance of that joyous and radiant comradeship. "The reciprocal influence of these two ardent young enthusiasts, the wizard fascination of the dreamer of dreams, playing against the healing calm of the child of the mountains, can never be completely revealed." It is as significant as it is pathetic that the close of the great creative period in the life of each poet is coincident with this breach. In 1811 the parsonage opposite the church became his home, and here the poet's life was saddened by the death of two of his children. In 1813 he removed to his favorite and final abode, Rydal Mount.

The sun of Wordsworth's morning of inspiration, which rose in symbolic glory over the heights at Hawkshead, had reached its meridian and was declining towards the west to set in that evening of extraordinary splendor and beauty witnessed at Rydal Mount. The twilight of his song was rich in "pontific purple and dark harvest gold." The association at Rydal with sympathetic and appreciative friends, Miss Fenwick, Dr. Arnold, Professor Wilson, Hartley Coleridge, and F. W. Faber; his travels on the Continent and in Scotland, and his visits to Coleorton; his receptions in London with Gladstone, Rogers, and Crabb Robinson, when he met that devoted band of young disciples; his evenings at Fox How when he discoursed so eloquently on the great English poets; his reception of young and old, rich and poor in feast and merrymaking on his birthdays, and his solitude and meditation in his familiar haunts among the hills he loved, could not fail to call forth something of the glow and gladsomeness of youth, the pathos and power of maturity. It was such association and the consciousness of a lofty and consecrated purpose in all he had written that enabled him to withstand the pitiless storm of abuse which beat upon him from the critical reviews, and inspired him to sing:

For thus I live remote

From evil speaking; rancour never sought
Comes to me not; malignant truth, or lie.
Hence have I genial seasons, hence have I

Smooth passion, smooth discourse and joyous thought.

In his calm assurance that time would deal justly with all things great and small he quieted the fears of his disciples who became anxious about the future of his poems. He writes: "Trouble not yourself upon their present reception; of what moment is that compared with what I trust is their destiny? -to console the afflicted; to add sunshine to daylight, by making the happy happier; to teach the young and the gracious of every age to see, to think and feel, and, therefore, to become more actively and securely virtuous." Honor now came to him from sources which attested how potent his influence had become.

Blessings be with them—and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares,-
The Poets - who on earth have made us heirs

Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!

Oh! might my name be numbered among theirs;
Then gladly would I end my mortal days.

Thus wrote Wordsworth in 1805, and long and patiently did he wait for the answer to his prayer. At last, in the summer of 1839, he was permitted to realize that for which he had labored so assiduously and prayed so earnestly, when, by the foremost University of his land and the world, he was honored as one of the chief glories of English poetry and the greatest name since Milton. Keble, the professor of Poetry in the University, introduced him to the Vice Chancellor as being "one who had shed a celestial light upon the affections, the occupations, and the piety of the poor." The ovation which he received was such as had never been witnessed there before, except upon the occasion of the visit of the Duke of Wellington. The long battle had been patiently and courageously fought, and victory was at length achieved. Of this victory the Rev. Frederick Robertson says:

"It was my lot, during a short university career, to witness a transition and a reaction, or revulsion, of public feeling with regard to two great men. The first of these was Arnold of Rugby; the second, Wordsworth. When he came forward to receive his honorary degree, scarcely had his name been pronounced than from three thousand voices at once there broke forth a burst of applause echoed and taken up again and again. There were young eyes then filled with an emotion of which they had no need to be ashamed; there were hearts beating with the proud feeling of triumph that at last the world had recognized the merit of the man they had loved so long and acknowledged as their teacher."

In 1842 there was bestowed on him an annuity of £300 a year from the Civil List for distinguished work in the field of literature.

In 1843 a still greater honor was conferred upon him at the hands of the young Queen. He was urged to accept the Laureateship, but gratefully and respectfully declined, as he considered that his years unfitted him for the discharge of its duties. He was then in his seventy-fourth year. This brought a letter from the Prime Minister, Sir Robert Peel, urging his acceptance of the appointment, saying, "As the Queen can select for this honourable appointment no one whose claims for respect and honour, on account of eminence as a poet, can be placed in competition with you, I trust that you will no longer

hesitate to accept it. There is but one unanimous feeling on the part of all who have heard of the proposal.

"The offer was made not for the purpose of imposing upon you any onerous task or disagreeable duties, but in order to pay you that tribute of respect which is justly due to the first of living poets."

This letter removed his scruples, and the laurel wreath was placed upon the brows "of him who uttered nothing base." He produced but little poetry after this date; but there is one poem, written in 1846 upon the fly-leaf of a gift copy of his poems, presented to the Royal Library at Windsor Castle, which is of special interest as connected with his Laureateship.

Deign, Sovereign Mistress! to accept a lay,

No Laureate offering of elaborate art;
But salutation, taking its glad way
From deep recesses of a loyal heart.

The death of the beloved daughter, Dora, in July, 1847, so saddened his declining years that he never again retouched his harp. His mission was completed. The bright dream of his boyhood was fulfilled; and that spirit singled out for holy services, after the discipline of sadness and suffering, entered into its rest.

His body lies, as he had requested, in the churchyard at Grasmere, in the bosom of that dear vale where he had lived and loved and sung; surrounded by the dalesmen whom he