side on that bright summer day, and thus listen to his voice.  I thought of his long life; that he was one who had felt himself from early youth ’a renovated spirit singled out for holy services’—­one who had listened to the teachings of Nature, and communed with his own heart in the seclusion of those beautiful vales, until his thoughts were ready to be uttered for the good of his fellow-men.  And there had come back to him offerings of love, and gratitude, and reverent admiration, from a greater multitude than had ever before paid their homage to a living writer; and these acknowledgments have been for benefits so deep and lasting, that words seem but a poor return.  But I will not attempt to describe further the feelings which were strongly present to me at that moment, when I seemed most to realise in whose presence I stood.

* * * * *

He walked with me as far as the main road to Ambleside.  As we passed the little chapel built by Lady Fleming, which has been the occasion, as you remember, of one of his poems, there were persons, tourists evidently, talking with the sexton at the door.  Their inquiries, I fancied, were about Wordsworth, perhaps as to the hour of service the next day (Sunday), with the hope of seeing him there.  One of them caught sight of the venerable man at the moment, and at once seemed to perceive who it was, for she motioned to the others to look, and they watched him with earnest gaze.  I was struck with their looks of delighted admiration.  He stopped when we reached the main road, saying that his strength would not allow him to walk further.  Giving me his hand, he desired again to be remembered to you and others in America, and wished me a safe return to my friends, and so we parted.  I went on my way, happy in the recollection of this, to me, memorable interview.  My mind was in a tumult of excitement, for I felt that I had been in the familiar presence of one of the noblest of our race; and this sense of Wordsworth’s intellectual greatness had been with me during the whole interview.  I may speak, too, of the strong perception of his moral elevation which I had at the same time.  No word of unkindness had fallen from him.  He seemed to be living as if in the presence of God, by habitual recollection.  A strange feeling, almost of awe, had impressed me while I was thus with him.  Believing that his memory will be had in honour in all coming time, I could not but be thankful that I had been admitted to intimate intercourse with him then, when he was so near the end of life.  To you, my dear friend, I must again say I owe this happiness, and to you it has been denied.  You also, of all others of our countrymen, would have most valued such an interview, for to you the great Poet’s heart has been in an especial manner opened in private correspondence.  No other American has he honoured in the same degree; and by no one else in this country has the knowledge and appreciation of his poetry been so much extended.  The love which has so long animated you has been such, that multitudes have been influenced to seek for joy and refreshment from the same pure source.