ng them every boy who has ever befouled a wall with a
stump of pencil. We are left then with one whom it is ill to name
in the same fill of the inkpot, "Wordsworth's exquisite sister," as
Keats, who saw her once, at once knew her to be.

In Dorothy Wordsworth's journals, you may have the delight of daily
_intercourse--famigliarmente discorrendo_--with one of the purest
and noblest souls ever housed in flesh; to that you may add the
reassurance to be got from word and implication beyond doubt. She
tells us much, but implies more. We may see deeply into ourselves, but
she sees deeply into a deeper self than most of us can discern. It is
not only that, knowing her, we are grounded in the rudiments of honour
and lovely living; it is to learn that human life can be so lived, and
to conclude that of that at least is the Kingdom of Heaven.

These journals are for fragments only of the years which they cover,
and as such exist for Jan.-May, 1798 (Alfoxden); May-Dec, 1800,
Oct.-Dec, 1801, Jan.-July, 1802: all these at Grasmere. They have been
printed by Professor Knight, and I have the assurance of Mr. Gordon
Wordsworth that what little has been omitted is unimportant. Nothing
is unimportant to me, and I wish the whole had been given us; but
what we have is enough whereby to trace the development of her
extraordinary mind and of her power of self-expression. The latter,
undoubtedly, grew out of emotion, which gradually culminated until the
day of William Wordsworth's marriage. There it broke, and with it, as
if by a determination of the will, there the revelation ceased. A new
life began with the coming of Mary Wordsworth to Dove Cottage, a life
of which Dorothy records the surface only.

The Alfoxden fragment (20 Jan.-22 May, 1798), written when she
was twenty-seven, is chiefly notable for its power of interpreting
landscape. That was a power which Wordsworth himself possessed in
a high degree. There can be no doubt, I think, that they egged each
other on, but I myself should find it hard to say which was egger-on
and which the egged. This is the first sentence of it:

"20 Jan.--The green paths down the hillsides are channels for
streams. The young wheat is streaked by silver lines of water
running between the ridges, the sheep are gathered together
on the slopes. After the wet dark days, the country seems more
populous. It peoples itself in the sunbeams."

Here is one of a few days later:

"23rd.