* * * * *

I could have waited patiently for a long time indulging the thoughts which the place called up.  In a few minutes, however, I heard steps in the entry, the door was opened, and Wordsworth came in, it could be no other—–­ a tall figure, a little bent with age, his hair thin and grey, and his face deeply wrinkled....  The expression of his countenance was sad, mournful I might say; he seemed one on whom sorrow pressed heavily.  He gave me his hand, and welcomed me cordially, though without smiling.  ‘Will you walk out, Sir, and join us at the table?’ said he.  ’I am engaged to dine elsewhere.’  ‘But you can sit with us,’ said he; so, leading the way, he conducted me to the dining-room.  At the head of the table sat Mrs. Wordsworth, and their three grandchildren made up the party....  It was a humble apartment, not ceiled, the rafters being visible; having a large old-fashioned chimney-place, with a high mantelpiece.

* * * * *

Wordsworth asked after Mr. Ticknor of Boston, who had visited him a few months before, and for whom he expressed much regard.  Some other questions led me to speak of the progress we were making in America in the extension of our territory, the settlements on the Pacific, &c.; all this involving the rapid spread of our English tongue.  Wordsworth at this looked up, and I noticed a fixing of his eye as if on some remote object.  He said that considering this extension of our language, it behoved those who wrote to see to it, that what they put forth was on the side of virtue.  This remark, although thrown out at the moment, was made in a serious thoughtful way; and I was much impressed by it.  I could not but reflect that to him a deep sense of responsibility had ever been present:  to purify and elevate has been the purpose of all his writings.  Such may have been at that moment his own inward meditation, and he may have had in mind the coming generations who are to dwell upon his words.

* * * * *

Queen Victoria was mentioned—­her visit to Ireland which had just been made—­the courage she had shown.  ‘That is a virtue,’ said he, ’which she has to a remarkable degree, which is very much to her credit.’

* * * * *

Inman’s portrait of him I alluded to as being very familiar to me, the copy which hung in the room calling it to mind, which led him to speak of the one painted by Pickersgill for St. John’s College, Cambridge.  ’I was a member of that College, he said, ’and the fellows and students did me the honour to ask me to sit, and allowed me to choose the artist.  I wrote to Mr. Rogers on the subject, and he recommended Pickersgill, who came down soon afterwards, and the picture was painted here.’  He believed he had sat twenty-three times.  My impression is he was in doubt whether Inman’s or Pickersgill’s portrait was the better one.