tion, for the thought itself is as common
as the sea-shell you describe, and, in all probability, at least as
old as the Deluge.

_Landor_.--"_It is but justice to add, that this passage has been
the most admired of any in Mr. Wordsworth's great poem_." [119]

[Footnote 119: From Mr. Landor, _verbatim_.]

_North_.--Hout, tout, man! The author of the _Excursion_ could
afford to spare you a thousand finer passages, and he would seem
none the poorer. As to the imputed plagiarism, Wordsworth would no
doubt have avowed it had he been conscious that it was one, and that
you could attach so much importance to the honour of having reminded
him of a secret in conchology, known to every old nurse in the
country, as well as to every boy or girl that ever found a shell on
the shore, or was tall enough to reach one off a cottage parlour
mantelpiece; but which he could apply to a sublime and reverent
purpose, never dreamed of by them or you. It is in the application
of the familiar image, that we recognise the master-hand of the
poet. He does not stop when he has described the toy, and the
effect of air within it. The lute in Hamlet's hands is not more
philosophically dealt with. There is a pearl within Wordsworth's
shell, which is not to be found in your's, Mr. Landor. He goes on:--

"Even such a shell the universe itself
Is to the ear of Faith; and there are times,
I doubt not, when to you it cloth impart
Authentic tidings of invisible things--
Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power,
And central peace subsisting at the heart
Of endless agitation."

These are the lines of a poet, who not only stoops to pick up a
shell now and then, as he saunters along the sea-shore, but who is
accustomed to climb to the promontory above, and to look upon the
ocean of things:--

"From those imaginative heights that yield
Far-stretching views into eternity."

Do not look so fierce again, Mr. Landor. You who are so censorious of
self-complacency in others, and indeed of all other people's faults,
real or imagined, should endure to have your vanity rebuked.

_Landor_.--I have no vanity. I am too proud to be vain.

_North_.--Proud of what?

_Landor_.--Of something beyond the comprehension of a Scotchman,
Mr. North--proud of my genius.

_North_.--Are you so very great a genius, Mr. Landor?

_Landor_.--I am. _Almighty Homer is twice far above Troy and her
towers, Olympus and Jupiter. First, when Priam bends before Achil