light of the French Revolution circled my head like a glory, though
dabbled with drops of crimson gore: I walked confident and cheerful
by its side--

"And by the vision splendid
Was on my way attended."

It rose then in the east: it has again risen in the west. Two suns in
one day, two triumphs of liberty in one age, is a miracle which I hope
the laureate will hail in appropriate verse. Or may not Mr. Wordsworth
give a different turn to the fine passage, beginning--

"What, though the radiance which was once so bright,
Be now for ever vanished from my sight;
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of glory in the grass, of splendour in the flower?"

For is it not brought back, "like morn risen on mid-_night_;" and
may he not yet greet the yellow light shining on the evening bank with
eyes of youth, of genius, and freedom, as of yore? No, never! But what
would not these persons give for the unbroken integrity of their early
opinions--for one unshackled, uncontaminated strain--one _Io paean_
to Liberty--one burst of indignation against tyrants and sycophants,
who subject other countries to slavery by force, and prepare their own
for it by servile sophistry, as we see the huge serpent lick over its
trembling, helpless victim with its slime and poison, before it devours
it! On every stanza so penned would be written the word RECREANT! Every
taunt, every reproach, every note of exultation at restored light and
freedom, would recall to them how their hearts failed them in the Valley
of the Shadow of Death. And what shall we say to _him_--the
sleep-walker, the dreamer, the sophist, the word-hunter, the craver
after sympathy, but still vulnerable to truth, accessible to opinion,
because not sordid or mechanical? The Bourbons being no longer tied
about his neck, he may perhaps recover his original liberty of
speculating; so that we may apply to him the lines about his own
_Ancient Mariner_--

"And from his neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea."

This is the reason I can write an article on the _Letter-Bell_, and
other such subjects; I have never given the lie to my own soul. If I
have felt any impression once, I feel it more strongly a second time;
and I have no wish to revile and discard my best thoughts. There is
at length a thorough _keeping_ in what I write--not a line that
betrays a principle or disguises a feeling. If my wealth is small, it
all goes to enric