The death of their father, when Dorothy was about twelve years old, caused the entire break up of their early home, and from thence for some years their personal intercourse was only renewed at intervals. The father had not died in circumstances by any means affluent; but, through the kindness of prudent guardians, Wordsworth was enabled to finish his education at Cambridge. Dorothy meanwhile was passing her teens amid circumstances and scenes not the most congenial. Their absence from each other only stimulated their growing love. A visit to her during a vacation was to the brother blest
With a joy
Above all joys, that seemed another morn
Risen at mid noon; blessed with the presence
Of that sole sister
Now, after separation desolate,
Restored to me—such absence that she seemed
A gift then first bestowed.
Even now Dorothy was cherishing the design that she might become her brother's life companion. She looked forward to a time when they might be restored to each other—living loving life in a cottage, her brother great, she his servant and helper. This was the great hope that sustained her amidst present heart-yearning.
The history of Wordsworth about this time is now well known. College days over, an uncertainty of aim and purpose was the reason of his not fixing upon some occupation. His twelve months' residence in France during the period of the great Revolution did not assist in the solution of the problem of the young man's life, but only further entangled it. The outcome of the national struggle was bitterly disappointing to the enthusiastic English youth who had watched its progress with such keen interest. A change of rule was to be the dawn of hope to the nations. But when, instead of peace came strife and outrage, instead of prosperity misery, instead of freedom tyranny, instead of the fruition of hope the gloom of despair—then Wordsworth bowed his head in bitterness, ready almost to doubt the Almighty government of the world.