THE MISUNDERSTOOD POETS.

The village wiseacres of Cumberland, to whom the habits of the poet Wordsworth and his eccentric friend Coleridge were a mystery, had decided that they must be terrible scoundrels. One sage had seen Wordsworth looking fixedly at the moon; another had overheard him muttering in some strange language. Some thought him a conjuror; some a smuggler, from his perpetually haunting the sea-beach; while others were sure that he was a desperate French conspirator.

One day, while on a walking excursion, Coleridge met a woman, who, not knowing who he was, abused him to himself in unmeasured terms for some time. 'I listened,' wrote the poet to a friend, 'very particularly, appearing to approve all she said, exclaiming "Dear me!" two or three times; and, in fine, so completely won her heart by my civilities, that I had not courage enough to undeceive her.'

This hostility seems very ludicrous now; but at the time its effect was such, that the person who had the letting of Allfoxenden House refused point-blank to re-let it to Wordsworth.