the water were more beautiful than the sky itself; purple waves brighter than precious stones for ever melting away upon the sands." Deeply interesting as Miss Wordsworth's journals are, passages like these make us wish she had written more. After between eight and nine years' residence in Grasmere, Miss Wordsworth accompanied her brother and his family on their removal to Rydal Mount. Here they lived for the remainder of their lives, and grew old together. During many of their later years the life of the household was saddened and that of Miss Wordsworth darkened by the heavy affliction that came upon her. The exact date or occasion is somewhat doubtful, as well as to the extent to which Miss Wordsworth was afflicted. It was probably owing to her indefatigable exertions as a pedestrian in her intense love of Nature, and to want of sufficient care, that her splendid physical powers gave way. In 1832 she had an illness which resulted in brain fever, from the effects of which she never recovered. A few years later she became permanently invalided, and a long evening of life was passed more or less under a cloud. The present writer has the best of reasons for believing that the gravity of her mental condition during this period has been somewhat exaggerated. That the physical prostration became complete, and her keen mental powers sadly impaired, there is, unhappily, no doubt. But her affection of mind was chiefly shown by loss of memory; and her condition, even at the worst, was alleviated by many bright and lucid intervals. Her poem on "The Floating Island," written so late as 1842, is an abundant evidence of this. In her suffering Miss Wordsworth was exemplary. To Wordsworth himself his sister's illness was a source of great sorrow. Remembering what she had been to him, we cannot wonder that, as Lady Richardson said of him: "There is always something touching in his way of speaking of his sister. The tones of his voice become very gentle and soothing." Notwithstanding her long and sad affliction, Miss Wordsworth survived her brother five years. On account of her own condition, she was unable to be with him during his illness, and on being informed of his death, which took place on April 23, 1850, when she fully realised that "William" was no more, she exclaimed that life had nothing left worth living for. A friend who was present said, in reference to her: "She is drawn about as usual in her chair. She was heard to say, as she passed the door where the body lay, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"" Miss Wordsworth's last years were tenderly cared for by those who had so long loved both her and her more famous brother. She died on January 25, 1855, in her eighty-third year. She is buried by her brother's side in Grasmere Churchyard. MARY LAMB.