shades, so twined with all the earliest affections of my heart; this air; these high embattled walls, so consecrated to my chivalrous ambition, would have soothed and calmed the ills of my worldly existence. But these, to aggravate my sorrows, these were forbidden me. The uncourtly countenance of him, whose ashes are now decorated with flowers and steeped in tears, was deemed unworthy of these groves of ancient fame, and ancient valour. Stranger, (yet I perceive thou art no stranger to me, or to my blood, or to this beloved spot! retire with sentiments, though tranquil, elevated; forget all petty ambitions; serve thy country, if thou canst, with purity; and if the post of honour is not to be attained with virtue, content thyself with the innocence and peace of retirement. But if thy country calls for thy exertions, though thy patriotism will scarcely be tried at the scaffold as mine was, yet even at the scaffold do not shrink from the trial!"

Aug. 1812.

N° LXXV.

On the improper Dread of Criticism and Censure.

He, who would write well, should never fear the critics, but boldly venture what he has to say at his peril. He cannot protect himself from their attacks by deference to their assertions. Censure is the prime purpose of their employment: but if it be unjust, will not long continue to injure.

A severe and partial examiner may detect and exaggerate a thousand faults in the best composi tions; while a technical judge may exhibit plausible proofs of uniform excellence in the dullest works: but neither can the condemnation sink those; nor the praise elevate these.

Affected scorn, and pretences of superiority in the censurer; jests founded on misrepresentation; airs of philosophy to books of fancy and sentiment; and of wit to books of sober detail; lively language, epigrammatic terms, sarcasm, irony, make rare fun, or a strong impression in an isolated article, and gratify the malignity of those multitudes, who delight in the degradation of intellectual superiority; but these pestilent clouds, thus raised before their brightness, gradually dissolve from those who merit fame.

The varieties of mental eminence so surpass enumeration, and the various tastes which require food for their gratification are so proportionally great, that it is not only unnecessary, but would be sadly to be deplored, that all compositions should be formed on one model. Why should we not at once be pleased with the opposite poetry of Milton and of Pope; and the opposite prose of Addison and of Johnson? But they, to whose narrow ideas only one of them deserve admiration, require, on each side, to be indulged in their contrary perceptions.

It would be well, through the course of the last sixty years, to compare the opinions of professional critics on books when first published with those which have been since pronounced or ratified by Time. How often would they be found to disagree; and how many productions have since worked their way into notice, which were at first neglected, turned into ridicule, or treated with solemn proscription.

A very little ingenuity will suffice to enable him who is determined to find fault, to give the colour of very strong objections to any literary performance. The most obvious is to try it by rules by which it was never written; and to assume that it has objects in view directly the reverse of what are intended. A long introduction, working the reader's mind into a mood discordant to the tone of the

work to be criticised, will at once create a prejudice against the extracts which may be artfully made immediately to follow. How easily might the mind thus be brought to reject a large portion of the poetry of Pope as artificial, cold, and prosaic! Were the critic, after a few general praises of the Muse, to slide into an eulogium on the picturesque ramblings or sublime simplicity of Milton, instancing by a few beautiful or affecting passages of each class, how should we tire, even in defiance of a thousand faint commendations, at long extracts of argumentative verses from the Essays on Criticism, or on Man! Yet the furious invectives of John Dennis, and all the poison generated by the revengeful passions of the whole tribes of the Dunciad, have not been able to throw, even a slight tarnish on the verdure of Pope's laurel !

To be beyond blame and detraction is to be above humanity! they follow TALENTS and GENIUS and VIRTUE as their shadows! The obscure, the mediocre, and such as excite no envy, are alone exempt from misrepresentation and calumny!

One thing from which a mind, before it can be great, should free itself, is a subjection to the world's opinions. Caprice, ill-temper, interest, and all bad passions actuate those opinions. At length he, who is not meanly submissive, may probably command that which he was bold enough to set at defiance.

N° LXXVI.

On the Pleasures and Uses of Fancy.

WHAT is life without fancy to gild its scenery, and brighten the colours of dull reality? He who has not fancy is deficient in the noblest gem of intellect, and wants the lamp to cheer him in the dark paths of this wilderness of trouble.

In solitude and in poverty it can bring before us the gladsome voice of society, and the enlivening array of wealth; in absence it can restore the object of our affection; and in age bring back the delights of youth. Without it the images of nature; the morning dawn; the evening shadows; the prospect of mountains and vallies; the spreading landscape; the smiling meadow, or recluse dell; the revival and the fall of the leaf and the flower; and the changing colours of the seasons, lose more than half their impression, and almost all their intellectual and moral delight.

What is the prime source of their charm, but the affecting association of ideas which by the aid of fancy they excite? A vivid imagination combines with them past or distant objects, and peoples every scene with its appropriate inhabitants.