to remark that many who could descant with eloquence on Nature cared little for her, and that many more who truly loved her had yet no eye to discern her—­which he regarded as a sort of ’spiritual discernment.’  He continued, ’Indeed I have hardly ever known any one but myself who had a true eye for Nature, one that thoroughly understood her meanings and her teachings—­except’ (here he interrupted himself) ’one person.  There was a young clergyman, called Frederick Faber,[269] who resided at Ambleside.  He had not only as good an eye for Nature as I have, but even a better one, and sometimes pointed out to me on the mountains effects which, with all my great experience, I had never detected.’

[269] Afterwards Father Faber of the Oratory.  His ‘Sir Launcelot’ abounds in admirable descriptions.

Truth, he used to say—­that is, truth in its largest sense, as a thing at once real and ideal, a truth including exact and accurate detail, and yet everywhere subordinating mere detail to the spirit of the whole—­this, he affirmed, was the soul and essence not only of descriptive poetry, but of all poetry.  He had often, he told me, intended to write an essay on poetry, setting forth this principle, and illustrating it by references to the chief representatives of poetry in its various departments.  It was this twofold truth which made Shakspeare the greatest of all poets.  ‘It was well for Shakspeare,’ he remarked, ’that he gave himself to the drama.  It was that which forced him to be sufficiently human.  His poems would otherwise, from the extraordinarily metaphysical character of his genius, have been too recondite to be understood.  His youthful poems, in spite of their unfortunate and unworthy subjects, and his sonnets also, reveal this tendency.  Nothing can surpass the greatness of Shakspeare where he is at his greatest; but it is wrong to speak of him as if even he were perfect.  He had serious defects, and not those only proceeding from carelessness.  For instance, in his delineations of character he does not assign as large a place to religious sentiment as enters into the constitution of human nature under normal circumstances.  If his dramas had more religion in them, they would be truer representations of man, as well as more elevated, and of a more searching interest.’  Wordsworth used to warn young poets against writing poetry remote from human interest.  Dante he admitted to be an exception; but he considered that Shelley, and almost all others who had endeavoured to out-soar the humanities, had suffered deplorably from the attempt.  I once heard him say, ’I have often been asked for advice by young poets.  All the advice I can give may be expressed in two counsels.  First, let Nature be your habitual and pleasurable study, human nature and material nature; secondly, study carefully those first-class poets whose fame is universal, not local, and learn from them:  learn from them especially how to observe and how to interpret Nature.’