96 INVALIDISM AND ITALY. 



" To continue. Hem ! I begin in fact to change my 

 mind regarding poetry and poetical perception, always ex- 

 cepting the great god Pan, who lives in a cottage in ^Yest- 

 moreland. ' His soul is like a star, and dwells apart/ He 

 is to be worshipped as the Guebres do the sun, his bright- 

 ness to be gloried in, his spots (for such there are in the 

 most splendid luminaries) to be left unrecorded. There 

 should be no Herschel in poetry. For myself, I eat too 

 much to be sentimental ; a pound of beef or mutton daily, 

 and half a pound of fish, potatoes, and other garniture, are 

 too substantial accompaniments to the ethereal essence of 

 poetic inspiration — not to speak of cheese. I do not, 

 however, despise the sweet science. ' Toute au contraire,' 

 as they say in the Highlands. ' I own the soft impeach- 

 ment ; ' but it is often too sublimated for my stultified 

 understanding, which pants in vain for something like a 

 distinct conception, and loves not for itself alone the ' un- 

 meaning melody of sweetest sound' ' 



" March 1823. 



" Deak Cousin, — I received the libri tre. I hope 

 you did not hurry yourself with them, or read them at 

 any time when you would have preferred something else, 

 merelv for the sake of returning them soon. I send tre 

 altri, which you can read at your leisure, and try to find 

 some amusement from them. Some people contrive (like 



