been incompetent to perform them. The independent Laker had never obeyed any voice but that of his own spontaneous inspiration. In the days of his energy he had been unresting. His presence among his native bills was known to the natives by his continual "booing," as he trudged amongst them along the roads and fields, and over the pathless wilds. He had left vast stores of laboured thought enshrined in musical words, for a perpetual property to the possessors of the English tongue. His old age was nearly silent; but, strange to say, he reverted to his former devotion to public questions. In youth ardently hoping for beneficial changes, he became in age heartily conservative of what he thought beneficial institutions. But this sphere was not truly his own, and few of his prose writings will ever be read again. The only produce of this sort truly congenial to his pen was a description of scenery in Cumberland, Westmorland, and Lancashire, which has been several times reprinted. Wordsworth completed his eightieth year on the 7th April 1850. He had reaped the anticipation of old age made by Scott for himself at Patterdale, a few years before his death: "I mean to live till I am eighty, and shall write as long as I live." Scott had been buried nearly eighteen years. Wordsworth had an attack of inflammation of the chest on the 14th March 1850, arising from exposure on the previous Sunday, when he had attended at Rydal chapel. On his birthday, in April, being in danger from the weakening effects of the medical treatment by which his disorder was subdued, he was prayed for in that place morning and afternoon. On the 20th he became so weak as to suggest to his son the idea of inquiring whether he wished to partake of the holy communion. "That is just what I want," he replied. His wife said to him, about this time, in order to break to him the near prospect evident to all observers, 'William, you are going to Dora." He made no reply; but, some hours after, hearing a curtain moved in his chamber, he asked, "Is that Dora?" as if awaking from sleep. On the 23d he calmly expired, while the clock was striking twelve at noon. On the 27th he was buried at Grasmere, beside his children's remains. Wordsworth was slightly above the middle height. His appearance was not commanding, although his features were highly expressive of benignity and intelligence. His eyes were weak, and he made, during many years, little use of them in reading or writing. His mouth was not expressive of the delicacy of feeling which characterized him. It was large, and did not even indicate the natural firmness of his character. His cheeks were loose, and his chin small. But his forehead rose high and smooth over a face to which it imparted dignity. His nose, also, was a prominent feature, and indicated the exercise of the powers which the dome above declared. It seemed thus as if the animal propensities indicated by the lower features of the face had been neutralized and defeated by the superior force of the intellectual powers. Although, at home, precluded from the exercise of brilliant conversation and contest of any sort, he could yet, when occasion offered, during his frequent tours, hold his own in any company, and was equally unabashed in the presence of royalty in the unusual dress of a courtier, and in front of reviewers in the garb of poetical homespun that moved their laughter. The poet could laugh too, and used to show his hearty appreciation of fun by outbursts of "genuine grunting laughter." Good deeds of all sorts were his delight, and pleasant sights his pleasure. He has not left "a line which, dying, he himself would wish to blot." |