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Impatiently, ill done, or left undone,
To the dishonour of His holy name. .
Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world !
Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart;
Restore their languid spirits, and recall
Their lost affections unto Thee and Thine !”

If Wordsworth and his sister in their early life seem to have too exclusively glorified Nature, it cannot with any shadow of reason be said that they were at any period devoid of that faith and trust in the Creator through which we receive Nature's most beneficent lessons. It is, indeed, noticeable that during their Scottish tour no difference seems to have been made in the days of the week—that their Sundays were spent in travel. Such a thing is certainly to be regretted, which in after years probably no one would have been more ready than they to acknowledge. Thus the last entry in that journal—one made after an interval of many years—we find as follows: October 4th, 1832.-‘‘I find that this tour was both begun and ended on a Sunday. I am sorry that it should have been so, though I hope and trust that our thoughts and feelings were not seldom as pious and serious as if we had duly attended a place devoted to public worship. My sentiments have undergone a great change since 1803 respecting the absolute necessity of keeping the Sabbath by a regular attendance at church.-D. W.” It cannot be doubted that the feeling which dictated those words marks a distinct advance. I doubt not that Miss Wordsworth was able to worship the Creator as devoutly on the green slope of a sun

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crowned mountain or in the solemn woods, murmuring

their eternal mysterious secrets, as in the public assembly

of saints. And such would be in accord with the glow
of youthful life with which she bounded to greet
Nature's subtle influences. But a longer experience
brought its inevitable sobering tendencies, accompanied
by the longing for a closer approach towards the Infinite
which is felt by all searching and great souls. Words-
worth could truly say, in view of his work, that it was a
consolation to him to feel that he had never written a

line which he could wish to blot. To this happy and

rare result his sister contributed. Remembering the
exalted character of that work, there is no other conclu-
sion than that she had no mean part in a work, the issues
of which were beneficial not only for time—adding to
the sweet influences and graces of life—but will be far-
reaching as eternity. -

In illustration of Miss Wordsworth's own literary style,
I take the liberty to insert in later chapters a few poems

which have been deemed worthy to have a place with

Šthose of her brother, as well as a journal of a tour on

Jllswater. >what most in-her-journals arrests the

\ oattention ) is her unusual quickness and minuteness of ...” observation, combined with a graceful and poetic diction.

With her ardent love of Nature, nothing seems to have
escaped her notice; and all the varying shades of beauty
in earth and sky, which, to the observant eye and loving
heart invest with such a glory this old world, were duly
appreciated. Describing a birch tree, she says: “As
we went along we were stopped at once, at a distance of,
perhaps, fifty yards from our favourite birch tree. It

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was yielding to a 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 water.”
Noticing a number of daffodils near Ullswater, she
writes: “When we were in the woods below Gowbarrow
Park we saw a few daffodils close to the water side. As
we went along there were more and yet more; and at
last, under the boughs of the trees, we saw there was a
long belt of them along the shore. I never saw daffodils
so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones about
them. Some rested their heads on these stones as on a
pillow ; the rest tossed, and reeled, and danced, and
seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, they
looked so gay and glancing.” These daffodils suggested
to her brother one of the most beautiful of his short
poems, (that which has been previously quoted, com-
mencing
- - “I wandered lonely as a cloud.”
Of this description of Miss Wordsworth Mr. Lockhart
says: “Few poets ever lived who could have written a
description so simple and original, so vivid and
picturesque. Her words are scenes, and something
more.” /*-*. P, 113
Miss Wordsworth was for many years a great corres-
pondent, and it is to be regretted that more of her
letters have not been given to the world. From those

- quoted in this volume it will be seen that they exhibit

the same fluent, graceful, and animated style which characterised all her productions.

- “I have seen That reverent form bowed down with age and pain, And rankling malady. Yet not for this Ceased she to praise her Maker, or withdraw - t Her trust in Him, her faith, and humble hope; So meekly had she learnt to bear her cross— For she had studied patience in the school Of Christ; much comfort she had thence derived, ...And was a follower of the NAZARENE.” LAMB.

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