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Rh as she proceeded; she became every year less doubting, more independent, far more careful and studious; the "passion for effect" was not the least weakened, but it slowly gave way.

And here, while stating our impressions of the development of her own poetical powers, a few brief notes, glancing at the qualities of some of her great contemporaries, may not be inappropriately introduced. Worthy, from their expressiveness, of preservation in themselves, they serve to illustrate her own intellectual qualities by showing what, at this time, when she was, perhaps, most capable of forming a calm and sound judgment, her feeling really was, respecting the poets she has thus characterized in writing to a friend.

. There is something in Southey's genius that always gives me the idea of the Alhambra—there is the great proportion, and the fantastic ornament. The setting of his verses is like a rich arabesque. It is fretted gold; the oriental magnificence of his longer poems—such as Thalaba—is singularly contrasted with the quaint simplicity of his minor poems; they give the idea of innocent, yet intelligent children—yet almost startling you with the depth of knowledge that a simple truth may convey.

is a poet that even Plato might have admitted into his republic. He is the most passionless of writers. Like the noblest creations of Grecian sculpture, the divinity is shown by divine repose. But if his sympathy with humanity be still, it is also deep; the 'heaven that lies about us in our infancy,' he would fain extend even to the tomb. He brings 'Faith, the solemn