Both Herbert and Vaughan have thus read Nature, the latter turning many leaves which few besides have turned.

In this he has struck upon a deeper and richer lode than even Wordsworth, although he has not wrought it with half his skill.

In any history of the development of the love of the present age for Nature, Vaughan, although I fear his influence would be found to have been small as yet, must be represented as the Phosphor of coming dawn.

Beside him, Thomson is cold, artistic, and gray: although larger in scope, he is not to be compared with him in sympathetic sight.

It is this insight that makes Vaughan a mystic.