ntemplative calmness of his position, and the depth and
intensity of his feelings, combined together to give a dignity and
clearness, a vigour and splendour, and, consequently, a lasting value,
to his writings on measures of domestic and foreign policy, qualities
that rarely belong to contemporaneous political effusions produced by
those engaged in the heat and din of the battle. This remark is
specially applicable to his tract on the Convention of Cintra....
Whatever difference of opinion may prevail concerning the relevance of
the great principles enunciated in it to the questions at issue, but one
judgment can exist with respect to the importance of those principles,
and the vigorous and fervid eloquence with which they are enforced. If
WORDSWORTH had never written a single verse, this Essay alone would be
sufficient to place him in the highest rank of English poets.... Enough
has been quoted to show that the Essay on the Convention of Cintra was
not an ephemeral production, destined to vanish with the occasion which
gave it birth. If this were the case, the labour bestowed upon it was
almost abortive. The author composed the work in the discharge of what
he regarded a sacred duty, and for the permanent benefit of society,
rather than with a view to any immediate results.'[5] The Bishop adds
further these details: 'He foresaw and predicted that his words would be
to the public ear what midnight storms are to men who sleep:

[5] 'Memoirs,' as before, vol. i. pp. 383, 399.

"I dropp'd my pen, and listen'd to the wind,
That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost--
A midnight harmony, and wholly lost
To the general sense of men, by chains confined
Of business, care, or pleasure, or resign'd
To timely sleep. Thought I, the impassion'd strain,
Which without aid of numbers I sustain,
Like acceptation from the world will find.
Yet some with apprehensive ear shall drink
A dirge devoutly breath'd o'er sorrows past;
And to the attendant promise will give heed--
The prophecy--like that of this wild blast,
Which, while it makes the heart with, sadness shrink,
Tells also of bright calms that shall succeed."[6]

It is true that some few readers it had on its first appearance; and it
is recorded by an ear-witness that Canning said of this pamphlet that he
considered it the most eloquent production since the days of Burke;[7]
but, by some untoward delays in printing, it was