270 OPINIONS ON THE POETS 



abundant supply of the town water and also an ex- 

 cellent well below the dye-house, and, by means of a 

 powerful forcing-pump, this water can be conveyed 

 to any part of the premises. 



In the finishing rooms, no charcoal fires are re- 

 quired ; the frames on which the silk or other mate- 

 rial is extended, can be placed over two metal 

 cylinders, which run parallel to each other : these 

 cylinders can be heated to any required degree, and 

 the heat can be kept equable throughout, for any 

 period of time, by allowing a current of steam to 

 pass through them. By this arrangement, no ac- 

 cident from an unequal heat, or one too intense, can 

 possibly happen to the most delicate fabric. 



All the arrangements throughout the remaining 

 parts of the establishment are systematic and 

 excellent. 



OPINIONS ON THE POETS TWENTY YEARS AGO. 



FROM A LONDON JOURNAL. 



I AM one of those unfortunate youths to whom the Muse has 

 glanced a sparkling of her light, — one of those who pant for dis- 

 tinction, but have not within them that immortal power which 

 alone can command it. There are many, — some, sir, may be 

 known to you, who feel keenly and earnestly the eloquence of 

 heart and mind in others, but who cannot, from some inability or 

 unobtrusiveness, clearly express their own tJioughts and feelings : 

 whose lives are but long and silent dreams of romantic pleasure 

 and poetic wonderment ; — who almost adore the matchless fancies 

 of genuine bards, and love them as interpreters and guardians of 

 those visionary delights which are tlie perpetual inmates of their 

 bosoms. I know not whether I make myself clear to you ; — if I 

 do not, you will see that my confusion arises rather from a de- 

 fective power than a defective will. I love the Poets: I live in 

 the light of their fancies. It is my best delight to wander forth 

 on summer evenings, when the air is fresh and clear, — and the 

 leaves of the trees are making music with it, — and the birds are 

 busy] with their wings, — fluttering themselves to rest, — and a 

 brook is murmuring along almost inaudibly, and the sun is going 



