I have been reading the second volume of Allan Cunningham's Lives of the Painters, and have been extremely pleased with it. I have the most perfect sympathy with Fuseli's imagination. It belongs to a class that I admire greatly, and his conceptions are to me full of imagination. Blake, too, — there is a sublimity in many of his inventions. It was daring to think of painting "The Ancient of Days," and might almost seem impious, (though we do not say so of Milton's putting words into God's mouth,) and yet a feeling of poetry like a spring-tide rushed into my mind as I read it. Dost thou know anything of his works? That wild, incomprehensible thing he called "Orizen," seems to me very promising.