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"From worlds not quickened by the sun
A portion of the gift is won;
An intermingling of Heaven's pomp is spread
On ground which British shepherds tread."
I cannot, perhaps, more fitly begin this short biography than withsome words in which its subject has expressed his own feelings as tothe spirit in which such a task should be approached. "Silence,"says Wordsworth, "is a privilege of the grave, a right of thedeparted: let him, therefore, who infringes that right by speakingpublicly of, for, or against, those who cannot speak for themselves,take heed that he opens not his mouth without a sufficient sanction.Only to philosophy enlightened by the affections does it belongjustly to estimate the claims of the deceased on the one hand, andof the present age and future generations on the other, and tostrike a balance between them. Such philosophy runs a risk ofbecoming extinct among us, if the coarse intrusions into the recesses,the gross breaches upon the sanctities, of domestic life, to which wehave lately been more and more accustomed, are to be regarded asindications of a vigorous state of public feeling. The wise and goodrespect, as one of the noblest characteristics of Englishmen, thatjealousy of familiar approach which, while it contributes to themaintenance of private dignity, is one of the most efficaciousguardians of rational public freedom."
In accordance with these views the poet entrusted to his nephew, thelate Bishop of Lincoln, the task of composing memoirs of his life,in the just confidence that nothing would by such hands be given tothe world which was inconsistent with the dignity either of theliving or of the dead. From those memoirs the facts contained in thepresent work have been for the most part drawn. It has, however,been my fortune, through hereditary friendships, to have access tomany manuscript letters and much oral tradition bearing upon thepoet's private life;[1] and some details and some passages ofletters hitherto unpublished, will appear in these pages. It wouldseem, however, that there is but little of public interest, inWordsworth's life which has not already been given to the world, andI have shrunk from narrating such minor personal incidents as hewould himself have thought it needless to dwell upon. I haveendeavoured, in short, to write as though the Subject of thisbiography were himself its Auditor, listening, indeed, from someregion where all of truth is discerned, and nothing but truth desired,but checking