o many others. The simplicity and
enthusiasm of his feelings, with respect to nature, renders him bigotted
and intolerant in his judgments of men and things. But it happens to him,
as to others, that his strength lies in his weakness; and perhaps we have
no right to complain. We might get rid of the cynic and the egotist, and
find in his stead a common-place man. We should "take the good the Gods
provide us:" a fine and original vein of poetry is not one of their most
contemptible gifts, and the rest is scarcely worth thinking of, except as
it may be a mortification to those who expect perfection from human
nature; or who have been idle enough at some period of their lives, to
deify men of genius as possessing claims above it. But this is a chord
that jars, and we shall not dwell upon it.

Lord Byron we have called, according to the old proverb, "the spoiled
child of fortune:" Mr. Wordsworth might plead, in mitigation of some
peculiarities, that he is "the spoiled child of disappointment." We are
convinced, if he had been early a popular poet, he would have borne his
honours meekly, and would have been a person of great _bonhommie_ and
frankness of disposition. But the sense of injustice and of undeserved
ridicule sours the temper and narrows the views. To have produced works of
genius, and to find them neglected or treated with scorn is one of the
heaviest trials of human patience. We exaggerate our own merits when they
are denied by others, and are apt to grudge and cavil at every particle of
praise bestowed on those to whom we feel a conscious superiority. In mere
self-defence we turn against the world, when it turns against us; brood
over the undeserved slights we receive; and thus the genial current of the
soul is stopped, or vents itself in effusions of petulance and
self-conceit. Mr. Wordsworth has thought too much of contemporary critics
and criticism; and less than he ought of the award of posterity, and of
the opinion, we do not say of private friends, but of those who were made
so by their admiration of his genius. He did not court popularity by a
conformity to established models, and he ought not to have been surprised
that his originality was not understood as a matter of course. He has
_gnawed too much on the bridle_; and has often thrown out crusts to the
critics, in mere defiance or as a point of honour when he was challenged,
which otherwise his own good sense would have withheld. We suspect that
Mr. Wor