from the author's own pen. I should have no hesitation in asking a reviewer to notice any work of mine; but I should feel bound, from a regard to my own peace of mind, and in order to preserve my own self-respect, to accompany the request with a distinct intimation, that I wished the work to be noticed in exactly the same way as if the reviewer did not know the author. On that principle I have ever acted, and hope ever shall act." "Then," remarked Joseph, "I will write a notice of your work myself; but, before inserting it, will send you the manuscript for your inspection. If you see anything in it you don't like, you can put your pen through it." "I beg you will not send me the manuscript; for, to strike out censure, should there be any, is only a degree less unworthy than inditing praise. I have, on several occasions, had manuscript notices of former works unexpectedly sent me, accompanied with a request that I would cancel whatever passages or sentences I might dislike; but in no instance have I ever altered a word-unless, indeed, the notice contained some glaring error as to fact, or something which might be personally offensive, and had no connexion, one way or other, with the merits or demerits of the work." "I think you carry your conscientious scruples too far," suggested Joseph. "I can only say that I think differently. At all events, it is to me the source of a pleasure which I would not part with for any earthly consideration, that, whatever may be my status in the literary world, I have resorted to no unworthy means to obtain it. To me the highest literary reputation ever enjoyed would possess no attractions, nor afford the slightest satisfaction, if my own mind told me I had been resorting, directly or indirectly, to any such expedients as those to which I have referred." "Well, then, we will say no more on the subject," remarked Joseph. "Of course you have seen Mr. Calderwood's new work." "I have." "And read it through?" "And read it through." "As he has been in the habit of attacking and calumniating you as a literary man for several years past, the publication of a book of his will afford you an excellent opportunity of retaliating. Send me a review of his work, and apply the tomahawk to himself and his book without mercy. I will insert anything you send, however severe." "That I cannot and will not do," replied Mr. Lovegood. "Were I to treat Mr. Calderwood in the way you suggest, it would only be practising myself the very thing which you, and I, and others, have condemned in him." "But he is the aggressor. You would only be returning the blow which he has already struck." "That consideration would not alter the justice of the case. No provocation, however great, will ever justify a man in doing what is morally wrong. My rule throughout my literary life has been, to endeavour to divest my mind of all prejudices and of all vindictive feelings, when having occasion, either in society or through the press, to speak of the works of those who have been in the habit of attacking myself or loading my books with abuse. To that line of literary conduct I shall, I trust, adhere to the last. Had I been disposed to act on a contrary principle, I could, in innumerable instances, have retaliated with no inconsiderable effect (without the parties themselves ever discovering who was their assailant) on authors. who have been the most virulent and most frequent in their attacks on my productions. It is to me the source of a proud satisfaction, that in no one instance have I allowed any personal dislikes, any sense of injustice done to myself, to influence my criticisms of the works of others. If, indeed, I have had any feeling either way, it has been that of erring on the other side; in other words, of speaking more favourably of their works than they really deserved. And of this I feel assured, that the frame of mind which dictates such a course, is immeasurably happier than that which prompts a reviewer to treat an author and his work with virulent abuse. An ill-natured critic is necessarily a miserable man: it is needless to add, that the converse of the proposition is equally true. The good-natured and generous-minded man is necessarily happy. Were our cynical critics aware of this truth, they would covet a kindly disposition and generosity of feeling from considerations of pure selfishness. There is a physiognomy in print as well as in the human countenance. The only wonder is, that some second Lavater has not, before now, specially directed the attention of the public to the fact. An appeal may safely be made to those who know, in the private walks of life, the leading critics of the day, whether their temper and disposition be not, at home and in the social circle, fairly set forth by their criticisms in the |