me, that there must be something more in this than natural, if philosophy can find it out.' Difficulty of decision on abstruse subjects, or in embryo arts, has been the usual shelter of ordinary minds in ordinary cases from the justly-merited public laugh;

Who shall decide when doctors disagree?

But in a case like criticism, which has settled and recognised laws to refer to-which begins by a petitio principii-its superior competency to instruct the instructed, in a nation where the schoolmaster' is so conspicuously abroad,'—whose essence (or it is a useless impertinence) is a law-supported unity of judgment-in such a case, to exhibit so glaring a disunity, is, to say the least of it, not very reputable, nor calculated to obtain much public respect.

But men of judgment may take different views, and honourably differ. Granted. It will be readily admitted, that the highest poetical genius is a scarce endowment, and its appearance a rare occurrence:

Like angel visits-few and far between.

It, moreover, addresses itself (and must of necessity, in the first instance) to the superior few-the intellectual minority. Hence the limited chances of discovering the first heliacal emersion of a new poetical star from the lower belt of the vulgar horizon. But the reading public are jealous, and ought to be so, of the visual competency and vigilance of its critical guide. The critic's character implies this competency

and vigilance. The critic should at least have an eye capable of discerning the real advent, and rejecting the spurious avatar.

Criticism, which spontaneously undertakes, ought not to fail in this duty; since it is provided, as stated, with unerring laws, by which to guide its decisions. Should it fail in neglect of, or in opposition to these laws, and be equivocal or contradictory, what is to be inferred, but either that the above laws are rejected through spleen, or neglected through ignorance, or (a worse alternative) that some undue influence is operating on the critic's judgment? Objections, at all events, might be politely made; not only as harshness, flippancy, or insult, naturally produce retorts as harsh, and cause suspicion, but as they betray or excite angry feeling— a feeling totally at variance with the essential property of criticism-calm and unimpassioned judgment:

'Tis not enough your counsel should be true;
Blunt truths more mischief than two falsehoods do;
Without good breeding truth is disapproved;
That only makes superior sense beloved.

Besides politeness and good breeding, some of Mr. Montgomery's assailants appear to me wanting in an other quality, requisite to the due relishing of his works. The subjects chosen by Mr. Montgomery, as they embrace the highest point of the sublime, so they require a steady elevation, difficult to all but the true poet, and liable to be mistaken by some readers, as well as writers, for inflation. Sympathy with the writer and

his subject are consequently requisite. All the standard writers on criticism, and especially Longinus (on the Sublime, section 7), teach, that in order to relish or appreciate the more elevated beauties of an author, the reader must prepare himself by feeling or awaking this sympathy. Without this prepared feeling, many of Shakspeare's sublimest passages would appear turgid and inflated. Pope says to the same effect

A perfect judge will read each work of wit
In the same spirit which the author writ.

And again,

Nor lose for each malignant, dull delight,
The gen'rous feeling to be pleased with wit.

From the highest reviews, on account of their original sin, an ineradicable political purpose-from the lowest, on account of ignorance or venality-little of just criticism could be expected by common sense. But from the middle class of reviews, appositely placed between the froth and the dregs, the public do expect (and in some splendid instances are not disappointed) the robust virtue and nourishing vigour of independent truth. But when, in a review of this class, an editor possessing so fearfully responsible a name as Mr. Campbell, can, with the nonchalant simplicity, or insouciant frankness of a matter of course, admit, as he has done lately, that he scarcely dipped into a most important work, to the deceptive (therefore) criticism of which he lends his great name

6

-that he, moreover, struck out a just censure (in his view just) in order to favour a friend; and that, in doing so, he indirectly contributed (I take his own view still) to back-stab, as it were, under a cloak, the feelings and fame of an excellent and unprotected woman*,-surely the most incredulous of critical deterioration will no longer deny belief to so signal a confession, and admit that there is something rotten in the state' of criticism, which calls for the probe or the scalpel-for immediate exposure or excision, in order to restore its wholesomeness, and effect a radical cure! At all events, it is not wonderful that, under such circumstances, criticism-as noble an effort of discriminating taste, as the higher poetry is of creative genius, and of which Pope justly says—

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing, or in judging ill;

But of the two, less dangerous is the offence
To tire our patience, than mislead our sense—

should have fallen latterly into disrepute. One of the results is, that criticism is often wrongfully suspected; and another, commercially more important, has been often pressed upon private conviction, that the large and increasing body of the independent reading public (probably more competent to form a correct opinion than the middle class of periodical critics

*The result has been inconsistently consistent-a wild palinody, which every friend of Mr. Campbell, as well as himself, must wish unwritten.

themselves, since the latter are often compelled to write invita Minerva, urged by the claims of duty, or the goads of necessity,) either reject the evidence of critics altogether, or judge of the publications they notice, not by their comments, but by their extracts. Nay, often, as I have reason to know, they refuse to purchase books recommended by this class of critics, merely because they come recommended from a suspected source. Criticism thus defeats itself; it is curtailed of its legitimate influence in befriending merit or repressing pretension. This is a consideration which should give us pause.' It is, at all events, worthy the attention of publishers, whose pocket it affects, since the expensive lever to which they have hitherto trusted for moving public opinion, either by elevating their own publications, or depressing those of their rivals which might clash with them, is either powerless at present, or rapidly becoming so. Let them not deceive themselves. The complicated mechanism of this process is now clearly seen by the most uninformed of that large purchasing class to whom I have referred, and with whom it is their especial interest to stand well. There is no argument so cogent as one that addresses itself to the purse; and since publishers will soon be compelled, by the instinct of interest, to change their tack, in trying to catch the gales of public favour, there is good ground for hope, that the evil of modern criticism, its unsteadiness-whether traceable to corruption, care