“I was only then Contented, when with bliss ineffable I felt the sentiment of being spread O’er all that moves, and all that seemeth still; O’er all that lost beyond the reach of thought And human knowledge, to the human eye Invisible, yet liveth to the heart; O’er all that leaps, and runs, and shouts, and sings, Or beats the gladsome air; o’er all that glides Beneath the wave, yea, in the wave itself And mighty depth of waters. Wonder not If high the transport, great the joy I felt, Communing in this sort through earth and heaven With every form of creature, as it looked Towards the Uncreated with a countenance Of adoration, with an eye of love.” “Towards the Uncreated,”—the looking thitherward through both Nature and his own moral being, so as to find both based on one Divine order, witnessing to one Eternal Being, this is one of Wordsworth’s deepest tendencies. This is his teaching in many forms, emphatically in the “Ode to Duty,” of which, after recognizing duty as the law of his own being, he exclaims, “Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the eternal heavens through thee are fresh and strong.” The passage last quoted from “The Prelude” has the same meaning, and testifies that from and through his communing with Nature he had learnt, even in boyhood, a true and real natural religion—had felt his soul come into contact with Him who is at once the author and upholder of Nature and of man. Not perhaps that, in his school days, he was fully aware of what he then learnt. He felt at the time, he learnt to know what he felt afterwards. At Cambridge, when surrounded by trivial and uncongenial interests, he became aware that he had brought with him from the mountains powers to counterwork these— “Independent solaces, Incumbencies more awful, visitings Front the Upholder of the tranquil soul.”