ho had been educated at one of our
universities, and returned to pass his time in seclusion on his own
estate. He died a bachelor in middle age. Induced by the beauty of the
prospect, he built a small summer-house on the rocks above the peninsula
on which the ferry-house stands. [In pencil here--Query, Mr. Nott?]

This property afterwards past into the hands of the late Mr. Curwen. The
site was long ago pointed out by Mr. West in his _Guide_ as the pride of
the Lakes, and now goes by the name of 'The Station.' So much used I to
be delighted with the view from it, while a little boy, that some years
before the first pleasure-house was built, I led thither from Hawkshead
a youngster about my own age, an Irish boy, who was a servant to an
itinerant conjuror. My motive was to witness the pleasure I expected the
boy would receive from the prospect of the islands below, and the
intermingling water. I was not disappointed; and I hope the fact,
insignificant as it may seem to some, may be thought worthy of note by
others who may cast their eye over these notes.

19. _Guilt and Sorrow; or Incidents upon Salisbury Plain_.[VIII.]

ADVERTISEMENT, PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THIS POEM, PUBLISHED IN
1842.

Not less than one-third of the following poem, though it has from time
to time been altered in the expression, was published so far back as the
year 1798, under the title of 'The Female Vagrant.' The extract is of
such length that an apology seems to be required for reprinting it here:
but it was necessary to restore it to its original position, or the rest
would have been unintelligible. The whole was written before the close
of the year 1794, and I will detail, rather as a matter of literary
biography than for any other reason, the circumstances under which it
was produced.

During the latter part of the summer of 1793, having passed a month in
the Isle of Wight, in view of the fleet which was then preparing for
sea off Portsmouth at the commencement of the war, I left the place with
melancholy forebodings. The American war was still fresh in memory. The
struggle which was beginning, and which many thought would be brought to
a speedy close by the irresistible arms of Great Britain being added to
those of the Allies, I was assured in my own mind would be of long
continuance, and productive of distress and misery beyond all possible
calculation. This conviction was pressed upon me by having been a
witness, during a lon