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,

it is chiefly to their great abilities that they are indebted for the rank which they have attained; but it is not by those abilities alone that they preserve that rank. A glaring proof of this was afforded by the publication of Dickens's "American Notes for general Circulation." Here was a work of the most ordinary and common-place character, puffed into importance and circulation, not on account of its novelty or interest, but because it was written by Mr. Dickens. Had the author been

"A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown,"

the book would scarcely have obtained any notice, or would have been stigmatized as the production of some "twaddling Tourist." One or two organs of the press were honest enough to express their opinion as to the spuriousness of the "Notes ;" but their "still small voices" were stifled in the clamour of favouritism and the whinings of cant.

Sir Bulwer Lytton is another instance. Having attained the foremost rank as a novelist, nothing will satisfy his ambition but the highest eminence as a poet. His boldest flight in this latter capacity is his poem of "King Arthur," a performance which I name in this place, not to detract from its merits, whatever these may be, but to illustrate the fact that merit in a writer is not, as it should be, the only source

of his popularity. On the appearance of this poem, it was eulogized in the following strain by the "Sun" newspaper :

"This grand epic of King Arthur' must henceforth be ranked amongst our national masterpieces. In it we behold the crowning achievement of the author's life. His ambition cannot rise to a higher altitude. He has accomplished that which once had its seductions for the deathless and majestic mind of Milton. He has now assumed a place among the kings of English poetry.".

This is the opinion of a political journal. Let us hear that of the "Athenæum," a periodical of acknowledged ability, of the widest circulation, peculiarly devoted to literature, and professedly unconnected with politics :

Examples could be counted by the hundred exhibiting carelessness in craftsmanship. This carelessness, too, takes the forms of strange license. Adjectives are made into verbs, Teutonicisms, Scotticisms, Gallicisms, strewn freely about. We cannot allow this epic to decide its author's claim to enrolment among the poets of England. There are few wellconstructed works of any extent, be the style what it may, and the subject ever so remote and antipathetic, into which a fairly cultivated and conscientious reader cannot read himself by force of endeavour; but this romance has resisted our perseverance. Disappointed by the manner in which the story is treated, we would fain find compensation in insulated passages of wit, fancy, pathos, or terror. But here, too, 'King Arthur' has failed us. It would have given us true pleasure to welcome a good poem from Sir E. B. Lytton's hand; but this King Arthur' is not.”

The fact is, honest, impartial criticism is almost unknown in our day. The system itself