in toning down the qualities which do not exactly fit the ideal candidate for canonisation. I am content for my part to say that Southey reached such moral excellence as is possible for his position. He is good enough (if I may speak as a member of the craft) to serve as the patron saint of men of letters by profession, though we must humbly confess that he would be a little out of place in a more exalted sanctuary. A man who lives by his pen must renounce some pretensions to lofty morality; he cannot expect to be on a pedestal beside the great philanthropists and prophets and statesmen. He confesses himself to belong to a lower class of humanity; but he may be a good specimen of his class, as a cab-horse may be a good cab-horse though he does not expect to win the Derby. If he pays his bills and is kind to his family, and does not sell his pen to the enemy, he deserves respect in his life, and may at least claim the usual complimentary epitaph. Southey is interesting to me because he represents the high-water mark in that direction during his own generation. He is the most complete type of the man fitted by nature for this peculiar function, which one must sorrowfully admit not to be the highest.
