We might add instances of like incomprehensible folly from every stanza. A heart _keeping_, a mute _sleep_, and death _feeding_ on a mute _voice_, occur in one verse (page 8); Spring in despair "throws down her _kindling_ buds as if she Autumn were," a thing we never knew Autumn do with buds of any sort, the kindling kind being unknown to our botany; a _green lizard_ is like an _unimprisoned flame_, _waking_ out of its _trance_ (page 13). In the same page the _leprous corpse_ touched by the tender spirit of Spring, so as to exhale itself in flowers, is compared to "_incarnations of the stars, when splendour is changed to fragrance_!!!" Urania (page 15) _wounds_ the "invisible palms" of her tender feet by treading on human hearts as she journeys to see the corpse. Page 22, somebody is asked to "clasp with panting soul the pendulous earth," an image which, we take it, exceeds that of Shakespeare, to "put a girdle about it in forty minutes." It is so far a fortunate thing that this piece of impious and utter absurdity can have little circulation in Britain. The copy in our hands is one of some score sent to the Author's intimates from Pisa, where it has been printed in a quarto form "with the types of Didot," and two learned Epigraphs from Plato and Moschus. Solemn as the subject is, (for in truth we must grieve for the early death of any youth of literary ambition,) it is hardly possible to help laughing at the mock solemnity with which Shelley charges the Quarterly Review for having murdered his friend with--a critique![N] If criticism killed the disciples of that school, Shelley would not have been alive to write an Elegy on another:--but the whole is most farcical from a pen which on other occasions, has treated of the soul, the body, life and death agreeably to the opinions, the principles, and the practice of Percy Bysshe Shelley.--_The Literary Gazette_. [Footnote M: Though there is _no Echo_ and the mountains are _voiceless_, the woodmen, nevertheless, in the last line of this verse hear "a drear murmur between their Songs!!"] [Footnote N: This would have done excellently for a coroner's inquest like that on _Honey_, which lasted _thirty_ days, and was facetiously called the "Honey-moon."] JOHN KEATS _Endymion: A Poetic Romance_. By John Keats. London. 1818. pp. 207.