CRITICISM.

PHILOSOPHICAL Criticism was almost unknown in our literature until the beginning of the nineteenth century. At that period a Spirit of Inquiry, engendered by the political doctrines of the day, infused itself into every department of literature and science; and English Criticism soon became remarkable for the extent of its erudition and the boldness of its strictures. would have been fortunate for the cause of learning, if these advantages had been directed to their proper ends. But no sooner did the Spirit of Philosophy begin to manifest itself, than it became allied to the Spirit of Party.

It

Of this unnatural alliance the natural offspring were the Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews; for, if it is true that those periodicals gave the first indication of a departure from the timid and time-serving disposition, which had theretofore characterized our critical canons; it is equally true that they were the first to prostitute the Art of Criticism to the service of Politics and

Partisanship. Undoubted as was the ability of the reviewers, and frequently as it was exercised in the encouragement of talent and the furtherance of truth, it, in too many instances, was made subservient to the unworthy purposes of hunting down a political opponent or bolstering up a political ally. Whiggism and Toryism were at the bottom of all their judgments; and literary productions were not reviewed solely with reference to their intrinsic merits: the author's position and personal character were also taken into the account, and made the subject of acrimonious animadversion.

Criticism has long ceased to be a separate province in the republic of letters. It is now parcelled out indiscriminately to every pretender, of whatever coterie or creed; and there is scarcely a newspaper in the kingdom that does not assert and exercise its right to review the literature of the day. The consequence is, that literary partisanship, which was confined at first to our great critical organs, pervades almost every branch of journalism at the present hour. One newspaper gives a favourable account of a book, because it has received an advertisement from the author; another, because it has received none, declines to notice it. A third will eulogize it because it comes out under the patronage of a certain publishing firm; a fourth, for the same reason, will cry it down. Where there is no

particular motive of interest to form or guide the reviewer's judgment, he contents himself with adopting the first notice that comes in his way. Some journal of weight originates an opinion respecting the new work; and the minor reviewer, without giving himself the trouble to read the book, adopts that opinion with such alterations as may be necessary to make it tally with the known principles of his journal. Should there be any gross errors, any palpable blunders, in the original notice, they are copied without suspicion of their existence, and often go the round of the press without detection.

These facts will account, to some extent, for the inaccuracy of our judgments on contemporary writers, as compared with those of a more remote age. It is our peculiar boast that we evince a more correct appreciation of our English classics than was ever attained at any former period; and that the erudition which is lavished on the elucidation of their works, is more varied and extensive than was ever before brought to bear on the subject. But these advantages are neglected or misapplied, when we come to judge of our contemporaries. In our estimate of the dead, we are guided by the wisdom and learning of the past: in our appreciation of the living, we are led astray by the passions and prejudices of recent times. Our judgment, in the one case, is based upon the experience of centuries: in the other it

is warped by the fashionable but distorted standard of the passing hour. We see the Elizabethan writers, as they made themselves; we see the Victorian, as they are made by partisanship and cant. Let any writer attempt to detract from the merits of any of our old poets, or ascribe excellences to them which they do not possess; and forthwith the organs of public opinion will raise their voices in condemnation of such a proceeding. As regards our contemporaries the case is different. Their works are not always estimated according to their worth or worthlessness, but according to the political leaning of the reviewer, or the degree of popularity which the authors enjoy, whatever may be the source of that popularity. An author who, in this way, has once become a favourite with the public, may palm upon his patrons any quantity of rubbish or twaddle. His established popularity is his passport to favour; while the obscure or modest author, who has neither the means nor the wish to seek access to public patronage by such expedients, will meet with nothing but indifference or contempt.

In illustration of these remarks we may cite the instances of Dickens and Sir Bulwer Lytton. Though both are highly popular, yet their popularity is not wholly ascribable to their merits, unquestionable as these are: it is partly the result of favouritism or partisanship. Doubtless,