"
These brief descriptions may suffice to indicate the general
character of a district which in Wordsworth's early days had a
distinctive unity which he was the first fully to appreciate, which
was at its best during his long lifetime, and which has already
begun to disappear. The mountains had waited long for a full
adoration, an intelligent worship. At last "they were enough beloved."
And if now the changes wrought around them recall too often the
poet's warning, how
All that now delights thee, from the day
On which it should be touched, shall melt, and melt away,--
yet they have gained something which cannot be taken from them. Not
mines, nor railways, nor monster excursions, nor reservoirs, nor
Manchester herself, "toute entiere a sa proie attachee," can deprive
lake and hill of Wordsworth's memory, and the love which once they
knew.
Wordsworth's life was from the very first so ordered as to give him
the most complete and intimate knowledge both of district and people.
There was scarcely a mile of ground in the Lake country over which
he had not wandered; scarcely a prospect which was not linked with
his life by some tie of memory. Born at Cockermouth, on the
outskirts of the district, his mind was gradually led on to its
beauty; and his first recollections were of Derwent's grassy holms
and rocky falls, with Skiddaw, "bronzed with deepest radiance,"
towering in the eastern sky.
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