opinions of his own amidst the covert glances of his companions; there was Wordsworth, held in a pretty general and universal contempt through the reading public, but listened to with a reverence, and affection, and homage by his friends, walking there by his side, who knew the future monarch, although not yet proclaimed and crowned; there was Coleridge, with his haggy head and bright large eye; his shambling gait, his ill dressed figure, his large lips, and his vast round of occult and gold tinged metaphysical discourse, "reaching before and after;" there was Southey, so genial so gentle, the dearest, wisest, narrowest, and most large hearted, and full headed dogmatist and bigot that ever lived; there, when he could get a holiday from the East India House came Lamb, stuttering and stammering, with his great weight of love, and laughter, and sorrow on his heart; and the rude and rugged Hogg; and many another beside came there; in those wild days of the Lakes these were the men who were seen theresuch talkers, and such various talkers, there must have been a blaze of light if they did not extinguish each other. We know what the days of Johnson were-we know what the evenings of Holland House were; but surely here we should have seen greatness more in its undress in the simplicity of these rural quiets and shades.

In reviewing a life, of how slight importance seems a trip, or a tour; who thinks of noticing the casual acquaintance met with in the course of a week, or a month's travels, but to the Poet, these are ever im

IMPORTANCE OF TRIFLES IN MENTAL HISTORY. 121

portant; they are trifles out of which character is built up, and in an Esthetic Biography the notice of them is of the highest importance. All men who have travelled will recollect something of this, how important a memory is the first sight of a mountain, the first glimpse of the sea, and the haven of the sea crowded with ships, or the first night spent in a great city, or the first view of a mighty building, to minds able to perceive and to receive, the sight of a Feudal Castle in ruins, or an Abbey of the earlier or middle ages are objects which convey to the spirit influences imperishable; it frequently happens that a new scene arrests the course and current of thought and feeling, and gives to the whole being a new influence and character. In August 1803, Wordsworth, and his sister, and Coleridge, started on a tour into Scotland. In the life of our Poet by his nephew, there is to our mind no portion more interesting than the journal of the tour by Miss Wordsworth ; it is very delightful, affectingly so, to read there, words penned just half a century since, there is a beautiful blending of vivacity and sensibility, with shrewdness of observation and some humour, all conveying to the mind a beautiful portrait of the gifted woman who penned the journal, and in the minute individuality of the painting presenting to us many charming scenes and delightful impressions; in this journal we have another instance, or rather many instances of the aid the Poet derived from his sister's sensibility, and his sister's eye.

M

We have heard much said about the poverty and misfortunes of Poets, but all his life-long Wordsworth may be called, an especially fortunate man. We have seen that when at the most critical period of his life, Raisley Calvert gave him a measure of worldly independency; in the year 1803 he became intimate with Sir George Beaumont of Coleorton, in Leicestershire, and this friendship continued until it was dissolved in time by the death of Sir George; he was one of the first to discover the genuis of Wordsworth, and Coleridge; and was the medium of bringing them together; his kindness to our Poet was shewn by munificent presents, he purchased a beautiful spot near Keswick Applethwaite, which he presented to Wordsworth. Sir George was one of the Poet's most intimately attached and valued friends, but probably not of sufficient strength of mind or character to exercise any influence over his friend's mind; he appears to be a beautiful type of the Old English Gentleman, living to cultivate refined tastes and acquaintances, and to improve his neighbourhood. Much of the time of the two friends appears to have been passed at each other's houses, and the character sketched of him in the Elegiac Stanzas suggests instantly the portrait of a truly noble and beautiful person. The following lines are a proof of the Poet's sensibility, and his friend's excellence, the Baronet, forbade any Epitaph to be placed on his tomb, excepting the words, "Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord!" but when Wordsworth visited after his death, the

SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT.

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grounds made so sacred by social walks and wanderings, he could not forbear the verse, although he alludes in it to the repugnance of his departed companion to praise.

"Such offering Beaumont dreaded and forbade,
A spirit meck in self-abasement clad.

Yet here at least, though few have numbered days
That shunned so modestly the light of praise,
His graceful manners, and the temperate ray
Of that arch fancy which would round him play,
Brightening a converse never known to swerve
From courtesy and delicate reserve;

That sense, the bland philosophy of life,

Which checked discussion ere it warmed to strife;
Those rare accomplishments, and varied powers,
Might have their record among sylvan bowers.
Oh, fled for ever! vanished like a blast

That shook the leaves in myriads as it passed;—
Gone from this world of earth, air, sea, and sky,
From all its spirit-moving imagery,
Intensely studied with a painter's eye,
A poet's heart; and, for congenial view,
Portrayed with happiest pencil, not untrue
To common recognitions while the line
Flowed in a course of sympathy divine;—
Oh! severed, too abruptly, from delights
That all the seasons shared with equal rights;-
Rapt in the grace of undismantled age,
From soul-felt music, and the treasured page
Lit by that evening lamp which loved to shed

Its mellow lustre round thy honoured head;

While Friends beheld thee give with eye, voice, mien,
More than theatric force to Shakspeare's scene."

Coleorton in Leicestershire occupies a very considerable place in the Biography of Wordsworth, there he spent

very much time. Sir George was a Painter of very considerable taste and power, and he illustrated the more early volumes of our Author's Works, he constantly evidenced his good will and kindness of feeling to the Poet, he relied upon his advice greatly in laying out the extensive gardens and park, he kept up a more friendly intercourse with him, and was desirous that he should be remembered more permanently, and therefore, upon his death in 1827, he bequeathed to Mr. Wordsworth the sum of £100 annually for the express purpose of a yearly tour. All these circumstances, and the terms of the Poet's Epitaph upon him, and his own selected inscription on his tombstone seem to unveil a character, one of the most beautiful and interesting, quiet and unostentatious, yet full of taste if not of genius, and bent on fulfilling the quiet round of noble duties.

It is impossible to resist a feeling, in reading the life of Wordsworth, of his coldness of temperament; attempting to judge him through the life by his nephew, we are amazed by the want of freshness and warmth, there is not one letter that glows with hearty and energetic life; it is true, he could not write, it was a labour and a penalty to him. Another proof if any were wanting, that his pleasure was in himself, and in his own volitions, he did not derive enjoyment from the communication of his ideas and feelings. We cannot apprehend that he had any care for praise or blame, fame had but little meaning to him, if ever a human heart merited the comparison of a closed grot, in a hidden