fairly developed. The perusal of this elegant epistle dissipated alike my fears and my hopes; for, instead of caustic verses, and satirical notes, I found a smooth, melodious, and persuasive panegyric; unmixed, however, with any rules for the choice of books, or the regulation of study.
[Footnote 3: There are, nevertheless, some satirical allusions which one could have wished had been suppressed. For instance:
He turns where PYBUS rears his atlas-head Or MADOC'S mass conceals its veins of lead;
What has Mr. Pybus's gorgeous book in praise of the late Russian Emperor Paul I. (which some have called the chef-d'oeuvre of Bensley's press[A]) to do with Mr. Southey's fine Poem of Madoc?--in which, if there are "veins of lead," there are not a few "of silver and gold." Of the extraordinary talents of Mr. Southey, the indefatigable student in ancient lore, and especially in all that regards Spanish Literature and Old English Romances, this is not the place to make mention. His "Remains of