oughrigg;
and Professor Wilson disappeared from Elleray; and the aged Mrs.
Fletcher from Lancrigg; and the three venerable Wordsworths from Rydal
Mount.

The survivor of all the rest had a heart and a memory for the solemn
_last_ of every thing. She was the one to inquire of about the last
eagle in the district, the last pair of ravens in any crest of rocks,
the last old dalesman in any improved spot, the last round of the last
peddler among hills where the broad white road has succeeded the green
bridal-path. She knew the district during the period between its first
recognition, through Gray's "Letters," to its complete publicity in the
age of railways. She saw, perhaps, the best of it. But she contributed
to modernize and improve it, though the idea of doing so probably never
occurred to her. There were great people before to give away Christmas
bounties, and spoil their neighbors, as the established alms-giving of
the rich does spoil the laboring class, which ought to be above that
kind of aid. Mrs. Wordsworth did infinitely more good in her own way,
and without being aware of it. An example of comfortable thrift was a
greater boon to the people round than money, clothes, meat, or fuel. The
oldest residents have long borne witness that the homes of the neighbors
have assumed a new character of order and comfort, and wholesome
economy, since the poet's family lived at Rydal Mount. It used to be a
pleasant sight when Wordsworth was seen in the middle of a hedge,
cutting switches for half a dozen children, who were pulling at his
cloak, or gathering about his heels; and it will long be pleasant to
family friends to hear how the young wives of half a century learned to
make home comfortable by the example of the good housewife at the Mount,
who never was above letting her thrift be known.

Finally, she who had noted so many last survivors was herself the last
of a company more venerable than eagles, or ravens, or old-world yeomen,
or antique customs. She would not, in any case, be the first forgotten.
As it is, her honored name will live for generations in the traditions
of the valleys round. If she was studied as the poet's wife, she came
out so well from that investigation that she was contemplated for
herself; and the image so received is her true monument. It will be
better preserved in her old-fashioned neighborhood than many monuments
which make a greater show.

"She was a phantom of delight
When first