1855— I have looked over Gerald Massey's Poems.—London.—They seem to me zealous, candid, warlike, —intended, as they surely are, to get up a strong feeling against the British aristocracy both in their social and governmental political capacity.— Massey, I hear, is a youngish man, a radical, an editor now I believe in one of the provincial towns.—His early life laborious, a workman in a factory I think.—