endless trash published every day? Not the
_few_ purchasers who buy what is vile because they like it, but the
_many_ purchasers who do not know that the things are bad, and when they
are told so, think there is not much harm in it after all. In short,
they think that judging rightly is of no consequence and only a bore.

But I think I shall carry you all with me when I say that this society,
almost by its very _raison d'etre_, desires to form just and proper
judgments; and that one of the principal objects which we have in view in
meeting together from time to time is to learn what should be thought,
and what ought to be known; and by comparing our own judgments of things
with those of our neighbours, to arrive at a just modification of our
rough and imperfect ideas.

Although criticism is the act of judging in general, and although I shall
not strictly limit my subject to any particular branch of criticism, yet
naturally I shall be led to speak principally of that branch of which
we--probably all of us--think at once when the word is mentioned, viz.,
literary and artistic criticism. I think if criticism were juster and
fairer persons criticized would submit more readily to criticism. It is
certain that criticism is generally resented. We--none of us--like to be
told our faults.

"Tell Blackwood," said Sir Walter Scott, "that I am one of the Black
Hussars of Literature who neither give nor take criticism." Tennyson
resented any interference with his muse by writing the now nearly
forgotten line about "Musty, crusty Christopher." Byron flew into a
rhapsodical passion and wrote _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_--

"Ode, Epic, Elegy, have at you all."

He says--

"A man must serve his time to every trade
Save censure. Critics all are ready made.
Take hackney'd jokes from Miller, got by rote,
With just enough of learning to misquote;
A mind well skilled to find or forge a fault;
A turn for punning--call it Attic salt;
To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet,--
His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet;
Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a sharper hit;
Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit;
Care not for feeling--pass your proper jest,--
And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd."

Lowell retorted upon his enemies in the famous _Fable for Critics_.
Swift, in his _Battle of the Books_, revenges himself upon Criticism by
describing her. "She dwelt on the top of a