estrained by the
apprehension of going a little too far with these persons of
singular refinement and settled opinions.

'However, I believe I did pretty well, though I did make one
or two little mistakes, when most interested; but I was not
so foolish as to try to retrieve them. One occasion more
particularly, when Mr. G----, after going more fully into
his poetical opinions than I could have expected, stated his
sentiments: first, that Wordsworth had, in truth, guided, or,
rather, completely vivified the poetry of this age; secondly,
that 't was his influence which had, in reality, given all his
better individuality to Byron. He recurred again and again
to this opinion, _con amore_, and seemed to wish much for an
answer; but I would not venture, though 'twas hard for me
to forbear, I knew so well what I thought. Mr. G----'s
Wordsworthianism, however, is excellent; his beautiful
simplicity of taste, and love of truth, have preserved him
from any touch of that vague and imbecile enthusiasm, which
has enervated almost all the exclusive and determined admirers
of the great poet whom I have known in these parts. His
reverence, his feeling, are thoroughly intelligent. Everything
in his mind is well defined; and his horror of the vague, and
false, nay, even (suppose another horror here, for grammar's
sake) of the startling and paradoxical, have their beauty.
I think I could know Mr. G---- long, and see him perpetually,
without any touch of satiety; such variety is made by the very
absence of pretension, and the love of truth. I found much
amusement in leading him to sketch the scenes and persons
which Lockhart portrays in such glowing colors, and which he,
too, has seen with the _eye of taste_, but how different!'

* * * * *

Our friend was well aware that her _forte_ was in conversation. Here
she felt at home. Here she felt her power, and the excitement which
the presence of living persons brought, gave all her faculties full
activity 'After all,' she says, in a letter,

'this writing is mighty dead. Oh, for my dear old Greeks, who
talked everything--not to shine as in the Parisian saloons,
but to learn, to teach, to vent the heart, to clear the mind!'

Again, in 1832:--

'Conversation is my natural element. I need to be called
out, and never think al