ABSTRACT
As for the effect of this on Mr. Wordsworth himself, it is sufficient to say that he is Nature’s votary, and
At a time when a just and general taste, which prevails for the best productions of our ancient masters of poetry, has led to a fervour of pursuit that has ransacked all the hidden literary stores, it seems strange that the works of the author now before us should have met with such unmerited obliquy. The name of no living poet is perhaps better known than that of Mr. Wordsworth, but there is no man whose works, if read, are less understood, or as to whose merits or defects so many persons, capable of forming a judgment of their own, have taken their opinions upon trust. The censure which has been applied to his productions, as undeserved as it has been indiscriminate, would almost lead us to doubt the existence of that admiration of the works of our older bards, and to fear, at least, that it was established on a foundation as superficial and unstable as the vagaries of fashion, with no hold upon the heart and understanding.
