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wear no other fetters but the sentence of the world, to appeal to no other throne but the soul of man.”
These expressions are extracted from the preface to his Thalia, a periodical work, which he undertook in 1784, devoted to subjects connected with poetry, and chiefly with the drama. In such sentiments we leave him—commencing the arduous and perilous, but also glorious and sublime duties of a life consecrated to the discovery of truth, and the creation of intellectual beauty. He was now exclusively what is called A Man of Letters, for the rest of his days.
LETTER OF ELIA TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQUIRE.
SIr,—You have done me an un- friendly office, without perhaps much considering what you were doing. You have given an ill name to my poor Lucubrations. In a recent Pa- per on Infidelity, you usher in a con- ditional commendation of them with an exception; which, preceding the encomium, and taking up nearly the same space with it, must impress your readers with the notion, that the objectionable parts in them are at least equal in quantity to the pardon- able. The censure isin fact the criti- cism; the praise—a concession mere- ly. . Exceptions usually follow, to qualify -praise or blame. But there stands your reproof, in the very front of your notice, in ugly characters, like some bugbear, to frighten all good Christians from purchasing. Through you I am become an object of suspicion to preceptors of youth, and fathers of families. ‘* A book, which wants only a sounder religious feeling to be as delightful as it is origi- nal.” With no further explanation, what must your readers conjecture, but that my little volume is some vehicle for heresy or infidelity? The -quotation, which you honour me by -subjoining, oddly enough, is of a character, which bespeaks a tem- perament in the writer the very re- verse of that your reproof goes to in- sinuate. Had you been taxing me with superstition, the passage would have been pertinent to the censure. Was it worth your while to go so far out of your way to affront the feelings of an old friend, and com- mit yourself by an irrelevant quo- tation, for the pleasure of reflecting upon a poor child, an exile at Genoa ?
Iam at a loss what. particular
Essay you had in view (if my poor ramblings amount to that appella- tion) when you were in such a hurry to thrust in your objection, like bad news, foremost.—Perhaps the Paper on ‘‘ Saying Graces” was the obnoxious feature. I have en- deavoured there to rescue a volun- tary duty— good in place, but never, as I remember, Jiterally command- ed—from the charge of an undecent formality. Rightly taken, Sir, that Paper was not against Graces, but Want of Grace ; not against the ce- remony, but the carelessness and slovenliness so often observed in the performance of it.
Or was it that on the “ New Year” —in which [I have described the feelings of the merely natural man, on a consideration of the amazing change, which is supposable to take place on our removal from _ this fleshly scene ?—If men would ho- nestly confess their misgivings (which few men will) there are times when the strongest Christians of us, I believe, have reeled under questionings of such staggering ob- scurity. I do not accuse you of this weakness. There are some who tremblingly reach out shaking hands to the guidance of Faith— Others who stoutly venture into the dark (their Human Confidence their leader, whom they mistake for Faith); and, investing themselves before- hand with Cherubic wings, as they fancy, find their new robes as fa- miliar, and fitting to their supposed growth and stature in godliness, as the coat they left off yesterday— Some whose hope totters upon crutches—Others who stalk into fu- turity upon stilts. ;
The contemplation of a Spiritual