two miles distant from the shore. It was about the hour of sunset, and the sea was perfectly calm; and in a quarter where its surface was indistinguishable from the western sky, hazy, and luminous with the setting sun, appeared a tall sloop-rigged vessel, magnified by the atmosphere through which it was viewed, and seeming rather to hang in the air than to float upon the waters. Milton compares the appearance of Satan to a fleet descried far off at sea. The visionary grandeur and beautiful form of this single vessel, could words have conveyed to the mind the picture which nature presented to the eye, would have suited his purpose as well as the largest company of vessels that ever associated together with the help of a trade wind in the wide ocean; yet not exactly so, and for this reason, that his image is a permanent one, not dependent upon accident.

"I have not left myself room to assure you how sincerely I remain,

"Your affectionate friend,

"W. WORDSWORTH."

Sir George Beaumont died on the 7th February, 1827, in the seventy-third year of his age, having bequeathed to Mr. Wordsworth an annuity of 1007., to defray the expenses of a yearly tour. He was buried at Coleorton. It was his desire that no other epitaph should be inscribed on his monument except the particulars of his age and place of abode, and the words, "Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord." But his friend, who survived him, could not restrain the emotions of his heart; and when, in November, 1830, he next visited the grounds of Coleorton, associated with some of his happiest hours

and tenderest feelings, he poured forth1 those Elegiac Musings which delineate the virtues and graces of the departed, whom he had loved so well; and in 1837, in a distant land, when for the first time Wordsworth visited Rome, and on the day of his arrival there, nothing among the beauties and glories of the Eternal City, then opening on his view, so

1 The following lines from these Musings are descriptive of Sir George's character. Speaking of his repugnance to any eulogy on his tomb, the Poet says:

"Such offering BEAUMONT dreaded and forbade,

A spirit meek 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."

2 Vol. v. p. 140.

much moved him as the sight of the picturesque pinetree rescued from destruction by his friend1:

"When I learned the tree was living there,
Saved from the sordid axe by BEAUMONT's care,
Oh, what a gush of tenderness was mine!
The rescued pine-tree, with its sky so bright,
And cloud-like beauty, rich in thoughts of home,
Death-parted friends, and days too swift in flight,
Supplanted the whole majesty of Rome

(Then first apparent from the Pincian height)
Crowned with St. Peter's everlasting dome."

1 Vol. iii. p. 163.

281

81.

CHAPTER XXII.

CAPTAIN WORDSWORTH.

AMONG Wordsworth's "Poems on the naming of
Places," is one beginning with these words1:

"When, to the attractions of the busy world
Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen
A habitation in this peaceful vale,

Sharp season followed of continual storm
In deepest winter, and, from week to week,
Pathway, and lane, and public road were clogged
With frequent showers of snow."

This was in the beginning of 1800. It has been already mentioned that at that time the Poet's second brother, Captain Wordsworth, about two years and eight months younger than William, was an inmate of his cottage:

"To abide

For an allotted interval of ease

Under my cottage roof, had gladly come
From the wild sea a cherished visitant."

The brothers had rarely met since their school-boy days; and it was a great delight to the Poet, to find in his sailor-brother, when he came to sojourn at Grasmere, a heart congenial to his own.

"When thou hadst quitted Esthwaite's pleasant shore,
And taken thy first leave of those green hills
And rocks that were the play-ground of thy youth,
Year followed year, my Brother! and we two',
Conversing not, knew little in what mould
Each other's mind was fashioned; and at length,
When once again we met in Grasmere Vale,
Between us there was little other bond

Than common feelings of fraternal love.
But thou, a School-boy, to the sea hadst carried
Undying recollections; Nature there

Was with thee; she, who loved us both, she still
Was with thee; and even so didst thou become
A silent Poet."

John Wordsworth left Grasmere on Michaelmas day, 1800, walking over by Grisedale Tarn to Paterdale, whence he would proceed to Penrith; he took leave of his brother William, near the Tarn, where Ullswater first comes in view; and he went to sea again, in the Abergavenny East-Indiaman, in the spring of 1801.

After his departure from Grasmere, the Poet discovered a track which had been worn by his brother's steps "pacing there unwearied and alone," during the winter weather, in a sheltering fir-grove above the cottage2, and henceforth that fir-grove was known to the Poet's household by the name of "John's Grove," or "Brother's Grove:"

1 Vol. ii. p. 10.

"The

2 When to the attractions of the busy world, 1805. grove still exists, but the plantation has been walled in, and is not so accessible as when my brother John wore the path in the manner described. The grove was a favourite haunt with us all while we lived at Town-End.” — MSS., I. F.