’As to what you say of Shelley, it is true that the unhappy influences of early education prevented his ever attaining clear views of God, life, and the soul.  At thirty, he was still a seeker,—­an experimentalist.  But then his should not be compared with such a mind as ——­’s, which, having no such exuberant fancy to tame, nor various faculties to develop, naturally comes to maturity sooner.  Had Shelley lived twenty years longer, I have no doubt he would have become a fervent Christian, and thus have attained that mental harmony which was necessary to him.  It is true, too, as you say, that we always feel a melancholy imperfection in what he writes.  But I love to think of those other spheres in which so pure and rich a being shall be perfected; and I cannot allow his faults of opinion and sentiment to mar my enjoyment of the vast capabilities, and exquisite perception of beauty, displayed everywhere in his poems.’

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’March 17, 1836.—­I think Herschel will be very valuable to me, from the slight glance I have taken of it, and I thank Mr. F.; but do not let him expect anything of me because I have ventured on a book so profound as the Novum Organum.  I have been examining myself with severity, intellectually as well as morally, and am shocked to find how vague and superficial is all my knowledge.  I am no longer surprised that I should have appeared harsh and arrogant in my strictures to one who, having a better-disciplined mind, is more sensible of the difficulties in the way of really knowing and doing anything, and who, having more Wisdom, has more Reverence too.  All that passed at your house will prove very useful to me; and I trust that I am approximating somewhat to that genuine humility which is so indispensable to true regeneration.  But do not speak of this to—­, for I am not yet sure of the state of my mind.’

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’1836.—­I have, for the time, laid aside De Stael and Bacon, for Martineau and Southey.  I find, with delight, that the former has written on the very subjects I wished most to talk out with her, and probably I shall receive more from her in this way than by personal intercourse,—­for I think more of her character when with her, and am stimulated through my affections.  As to Southey, I am steeped to the lips in enjoyment.  I am glad I did not know this poet earlier; for I am now just ready to receive his truly exalting influences in some degree.  I think, in reading, I shall place him next to Wordsworth.  I have finished Herschel, and really believe I am a little wiser.  I have read, too, Heyne’s letters twice, Sartor Resartus once, some of Goethe’s late diaries, Coleridge’s Literary Remains, and drank a great deal from Wordsworth.  By the way, do you know his “Happy Warrior”?  I find my insight of this sublime poet perpetually deepening.’

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