is radically vicious: authors, and not works, are reviewed; and for one instance that may be quoted of fairness and impartiality, fifty examples of injustice are everywhere apparent. Nay more, a review or journal which should depart from the common practice, and set out with the determination to steer a straightforward course, would soon find to its cost that honesty is not the best policy; and that, to insure an ordinary share of subscribers, it must compete with its contemporaries in partiality and cant. Whenever a new work of any mark makes its appearance, the few journals that are unconnected with politics, will proceed at once to review it; and, in general, you may rely on the correctness of their decisions. Not so the political journals: these, for the most part, reserve their fire till primed by the author or his friends. If the work possesses uncommon merit, it will force itself into notice despite their silence; but if it is a work of average ability, a work, in fact, which, from its very character, stands most in need of a helping hand and a fair measure of critical justice, it is either consigned to oblivion or "damned with faint praise."

There is no living author perhaps who has shown greater sensibility on the score of such criticism than Sir Bulwer Lytton himself. In

England and the English," he expatiates upon

it at considerable length. One of the main causes to which he ascribes its baneful effects is the Anonymous;" a cause, however, which contributes but slightly to their production. No doubt, the "Anonymous" has its evils; nor, as Sir Bulwer seems to think, would these evils be diminished by the "complete veil" which such a character, thoroughly sustained, would throw around the critic. We have had but one Junius, and we are not desirous of the advent of Junius the Second. The bitter personal hostility, the insatiable rancour, the exaggerations and misstatements, which disgrace that writer's performances, would never have been carried to such an unscrupulous extent, had his real name been given to the world; had he not resolved that "his secret should perish with himself." On the other hand, the anonymous writer, whose veil is incomplete, is as good as known; and any one, upon inquiry, may learn who and what he is. If not generally known, he cannot fail to become so, sooner or later; and his fairness is in proportion to his regard for truth. Take, for example, Sir Bulwer Lytton himself, who, in the "New Tymon," a metrical satire, which he published anonymously, but with an incomplete veil, has been as just and manly, as he had been some years before in his acknowledged prose work of

England and the English." The fact is, that a thoroughly sustained character of the " Anony

mous," like Junius, only enables the writer to "deal damnation round the land" with thorough impunity. Recklessness then assumes the mask of sincerity, and rigour degenerates into cant. Junius, unknown, has obtained celebrity; known, he would have met with no small share of contempt.*

*Notwithstanding the diversity of opinion that still prevails on the vexed question of the authorship of the “Letters of Junius," it would be idle to deny that the greatest amount of evidence is in favour of the claim of Sir Philip Francis. That Burke was in the secret, and suggested some of the thoughts and sentiments, scattered through the "Letters," seems very probable. But everything goes to show that Francis was the writer; and that the language and style are those of the man who "wished that Burke would let him teach him English," and who insisted that "polish is material to preservation."

Among the circumstantial proofs in favour of Francis, adduced by Mr. Wade (Bohn's edition, 1850), is the particular expression so, of which he cites the following instances from the writings of Sir Philip Francis:

Sir P. Francis.-"I slave myself to death, and write and speak on instant impressions; so I am sorry if I have offended you."-Junius Identified.

Sir P. Francis to Mr. Burke, Feb. 19, 1790.-"I wish you were at the devil for giving me all this trouble; and so farewell."

Sir P. Francis, August 20, 1804.-" My present intention is to visit you about the 10th of next month, or perhaps a little sooner; and so, dear children, farewell." Chatham Corre

spondence, vol. iv.

Mr. Wade then cites this parallel instance from Junius:Junius.-"Pray tell me whether George Onslow means to keep his word with you ;" and ends, "and so I wish you a good night."-Private Letter to Woodfall, No. 5.

Neither would the practice of affixing the writer's name, as recommended by Sir Bulwer

To this instance I am able to add seven others from Junius, which appear to have escaped the notice of Mr. Wade :

"You seem to have dropped the affair of your regiment; so let it rest.”—Letter to Sir W. Draper, No. 7.

"Whenever you have anything to communicate to me, let the hint be thus, C at the usual place; and so direct to Mr. John Fretly."-Private Letter to Woodfall, No. 5.

"Some others of my letters may be added, and so throw out a hint that you have reason to suspect they are by the same author."-Private Letter to Woodfall, No. 7.

"This paper should properly have appeared to-morrow, but I could not compass it; so let it be announced to-morrow, and printed Wednesday."-Private Letter to Woodfall, No. 24. "I have no doubt of what you say about David Garrick, so drop the note."-Private Letter to Woodfall, No. 43.

"I think I have now done my duty by you, so farewell."Private Letter to Woodfall, No. 46.

"As to other passages, I have no favour or affection, so let all go."-Private Letter to Wilkes, No. 72.

It has been asserted that Sir Philip Francis, in order to encourage the belief that he was Junius, had made a practice of imitating the style of that writer. This assertion is sufficiently futile in itself; but its absurdity is clearly demonstrated by the coincidences which I have pointed out. Junius's “Private Letters" to Woodfall, which are shown to contain repeated instances of the peculiar expression so, were not published till 1813; while the letters of Sir Philip Francis, in which the same expression is of frequent occurrence, were all written several years before that period. In 1790 and 1804, Sir Philip could have no knowledge of the "Private Letters" to Woodfall, except as the writer of them; and when, in his correspondence during those years, he made use of expressions and phrases similar to those in the "Private Letters," it is clear that he was imitating (all the while unconsciously) no one but himself. In no other sense can he be said to have imitated Junius.

Lytton, be attended with unalloyed good. Many of the evils of the present system would still prevail, and others, now unknown, would be introduced. Look at any of the remarkable critiques that have been published with the writer's name: what do you find? In every instance great ability, an appreciation of certain beauties, an eye for certain defects, much erudition and research. But the partiality in one case, the personal antipathy in another, the political bias in a third, the want of discrimination in some, the exaggeration of excellences or defects by all, are conspicuous throughout. In almost every instance the reviewer seems to be prompted by a vulgar desire to gratify his partiality or dislike, rather than by the commendable wish to do justice to the author, or to instruct the public taste. This is a deplorable state of things, and the true cause of it is to be found in the prevalence of dishonesty and cant, and not in the publication or concealment of the critic's name. Criticism, in fact, has become a trade, and so long as that lasts, partiality and injustice will be persevered in, whether the critic's name is given or withheld.

Before criticism became a trade, there was some sincerity about it; but of late years it has, like everything else, put on the semblances of cant. One of the best of our modern critics, William Hazlitt, is also one of the most infected with this