shame, and undying ridicule pursues them and their abettors. The Lake
Poets began this senseless clamour against the genius of Pope.

ON BYRON

[From _Noctes Ambrosianae_, October, 1825]

_North._ People say, James, that Byron's tragedies are failures. Fools!
Is Cain, the dark, dim, disturbed, insane, hell-haunted Cain, a failure?
Is Sardanapalus, the passionate, princely, philosophical, joy-cheated,
throne-wearied voluptuary, a failure? Is Heaven and Earth, that
magnificent confusion of two worlds, in which mortal beings mingle in
love and hate, joy and despair, with immortal--the children of the dust
claiming alliance with the radiant progeny of the skies, till man and
angel seem to partake of one divine being, and to be essences eternal in
bliss or bale--is Heaven and Earth, I ask you, James, a failure? If so,
then Appollo has stopt payment--promising a dividend of one shilling in
the pound--and all concerned in that house are bankrupts.

_Tickler._ You have nobly--gloriously vindicated Byron, North, and in
doing so, have vindicated the moral and intellectual character of our
country. Miserable and pernicious creed, that holds possible the lasting
and intimate union of the first, purest, highest, noblest, and most
celestial powers of soul and spirit, with confirmed appetencies, foul
and degrading lust, cowardice, cruelty, meanness, hypocrisy, avarice,
and impiety! You,--in a strong attempt made to hold up to execration the
nature of Byron as deformed by all these hideous vices,--you, my friend,
reverently unveiled the countenance of the mighty dead, and the
lineaments struck remorse into the heart of every asperser.

ON DR. JOHNSON

[From _Noctes Ambrosianae_, April, 1829]

_North._ I forgot old Sam--a jewel rough set, yet shining like a star,
and though sand-blind by nature, and bigoted by Education, one of the
truly great men of England, and "her men are of men the chief," alike in
the dominions of the understanding, the reason, the passions, and the
imagination. No prig shall ever persuade me that _Rasselas_ is not a
noble performance--in design and execution. Never were the expenses of a
mother's funeral more gloriously defrayed by son, than the funeral of
Samuel Johnson's mother by the price of _Rasselas_, written for the
pious purpose of laying her head decently and honourably in the dust.

_Shepherd._ Ay, that was pittin' literature and genius to a glorious
purpose indeed; and therefore n