r source of beauty, which extends only
to the more instructed class of readers, is that which consists in the
judicious or happy application of expressions which have been sanctified
by the use of famous writers, or which bear the stamp of a simple or
venerable antiquity. There are other beauties of diction, however, which
are perceptible by all--the beauties of sweet sounds and pleasant
associations. The melody of words and verses is indifferent to no reader
of poetry; but the chief recommendation of poetical language is
certainly derived from those general associations, which give it a
character of dignity or elegance, sublimity or tenderness. Everyone
knows that there are low and mean expressions, as well as lofty and
grave ones; and that some words bear the impression of coarseness and
vulgarity, as clearly as others do of refinement and affection. We do
not mean, of course, to say anything in defiance of the hackneyed
commonplace of ordinary versemen. Whatever might have been the original
character of these unlucky phrases, they are now associated with nothing
but ideas of schoolboy imbecility and vulgar affectation. But what we do
maintain is, that much of the most popular poetry in the world owes its
celebrity chiefly to the beauty of its diction; and that no poetry can
be long or generally acceptable, the language of which is coarse,
inelegant, or infantine.

From this great source of pleasure, we think the readers of Mr.
Wordsworth are in great measure cut off. His diction has nowhere any
pretensions to elegance or dignity; and he has scarcely ever
condescended to give the grace of correctness or melody to his
versification. If it were merely slovenly or neglected, however, all
this might be endured. Strong sense and powerful feeling will ennoble
any expressions; or, at least, no one who is capable of estimating these
higher merits, will be disposed to mark these little defects. But, in
good truth, no man, now-a-days, composes verses for publication, with a
slovenly neglect of their language. It is a fine and laborious
manufacture, which can scarcely ever be made in a hurry; and the faults
which it has, may, for the most part, be set down to bad taste or
incapacity, rather than to carelessness or oversight. With Mr.
Wordsworth and his friends it is plain that their peculiarities of
diction are things of choice, and not of accident. They write as they
do, upon principle and system; and it evidently costs them mu