to preserve the pleasant belief that he was one of the few fixed stars of his time, though differing from other stars in glory, and that his light would be recognised through the ages to come.
This failing, if it be rightly called a failing, is clearly an essential characteristic. If a man is to be condemned because he has a calm conviction of his own undeniable merits, no case can be made out for Southey. His self-confidence is written in the very character of his face. He fancies that his friend Bedford may attribute one of his humours to the 'cut of his nose,' Certainly, it is impossible to look at Southey's portrait without admitting that a man with such a nose was predestined to a dogmatic self-complacency. He was strikingly handsome, and Byron, we know, said that he would almost have written Southey's Sapphics to have such a head upon his shoulders; and, though it is easy to guess what reply Byron was really courting, the remark certainly implies that his rival had strikingly good looks. Hazlitt speaks of his 'falcon glance,' and Carlyle of his sharp, eager, 'militant' expression. Another describer speaks of his brilliant eyes, under black brows and snow-white hair, but adds the inevitable
