(parcel fares) "to read Wordsworth's tragedy. Pray give me an order on
Longman for the 'Lyrical Ballads.'" And in October, 1800, the two authors
must have been on familiar terms with each other; for in a letter
addressed by Lamb to Wordsworth, "Dear Wordsworth," it appears that the
latter had requested him to advance money for the purchase of books, to a
considerable amount. This was at a time when Lamb was "not plethorically
abounding in cash." The books required an outlay of eight pounds, and Lamb
had not the sum then in his possession. "It is a scurvy thing" (he writes)
"to cry, Give me the money first; and I am the first of the Lambs that has
done this for many centuries." Shortly afterwards Lamb sent his play to
Wordsworth, who (this was previous to 30 January, 1801) appears to have
invited Charles to visit him in Cumberland. Our humorist did not accept
this invitation, being doubtful whether he could "afford so desperate a
journey," and being (he says) "not at all romance-bit about Nature;" the
earth, and sea, and sky, being, "when all is said, but a house to live
in."

It is not part of my task to adjust the claims of the various writers of
verse in this country to their stations in the Temple of Fame. If Keats
was by nature the most essentially a poet in the present century, there is
little doubt that Wordsworth has left his impress more broadly and more
permanently than any other of our later writers upon the literature of
England. There are barren, unpeopled wastes in the "Excursion," and in
some of the longer poems; but when his Genius stirs, we find ourselves in
rich places which have no parallel in any book since the death of Milton.
When his lyrical ballads first appeared, they encountered much opposition
and some contempt. Readers had not for many years been accustomed to drink
the waters of Helicon pure and undefiled; and Wordsworth (a prophet of the
true faith) had to gird up his loins, march into the desert, and prepare
for battle. He has, indeed, at last achieved a conquest; but a long course