. Memories of the Tennysons . eakest line in the most Wordsworthianmanner. FitzGerald claimed the palm with his line : A Mr. Wilkinson, a clergyman. ^ Some time towards the end of May, Tennysonwent over the Raise Gap, and saw did not call on Wordsworth, though JamesSpedding did his best to get him there, as Sped-ding wrote to FitzGerald, He would and wouldnot (sulky one), and it was not till after Southeysdeath that he met Wordsworth at Moxons. But he saw Lile Hartley, and was charmedwith his talk. Hartley was wonderfully eloquent;I liked Hartley ; he was a loveable little fell
. Memories of the Tennysons . eakest line in the most Wordsworthianmanner. FitzGerald claimed the palm with his line : A Mr. Wilkinson, a clergyman. ^ Some time towards the end of May, Tennysonwent over the Raise Gap, and saw did not call on Wordsworth, though JamesSpedding did his best to get him there, as Sped-ding wrote to FitzGerald, He would and wouldnot (sulky one), and it was not till after Southeysdeath that he met Wordsworth at Moxons. But he saw Lile Hartley, and was charmedwith his talk. Hartley was wonderfully eloquent;I liked Hartley ; he was a loveable little was his verdict ; and how well Hartley Cole-ridge returned the compliment may be judged byall who read the sonnet he wrote, entitled, ToAlfred Tennyson, after seeing him for the firsttime, which concludes : Knowing thee now a real earth-treading man,Not less I love thee, and no more I can. Tennyson stayed a few days at Ambleside, butbeyond his water excursion on Windermere with Cf. Tennyson: A Memoir, vol. I., p. o CO Q a H? 6 m z o z o zz TENNYSON AT THE ENGLISH LAKES. 85 FitzGerald, one cannot trace him in that neighbour-hood. He did not know that he had friends at Field-head, or he would probably have gone, for ArthurHallams sake, to see them. Had he presented him-self there, he would have been warmly welcomed bythe Hardens, who had met him on that eventfulreturn journey from the Pyrenees, where he had gonein 1830 with money for the insurgents under Miss Harden of that day, now Mrs. Clay,still lives in her quiet home of Miller-bridge, by thebanks of the Rotha, and possesses the interestingpencil sketch her father made of Tennyson, sprawledupon the deck of the Bordeaux steamer, in his tophat and long Inverness cape or coaching coat, withbooks strewn at his feet, and talking to the delightedaudience of fair girls in magnificent coal-scuttlebonnets, and another sketch of his friend, ArthurHallam, laid on his back, reading Sir Walter Scottto his guests
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