ave you, too, something to say about war, who are like
the fish that has a sword, but no heart?' He is always the severest
censor on the merits of others who has the least worth of his own."

Again he says, "The Sandwich Islanders murdered Captain Cook, but adored
his bones. It is after the same manner that the censorious treat
deserving men. They first immolate them in the most savage mode of
sacrifice, and then declare the relics of their victims to be sacred.
Crabbed members of churches and other societies will quarrel a pastor or
leading member away, and with snappish tone will complain of his
absence, invidiously comparing him with his successor, and making the
change they have caused the occasion of a still keener fight, simply to
indulge the unslumbering malice of their unfeeling heart. The rancour
with which they would silence one, the envy with which they hurry
another into seclusion, and the inexorable bitterness under the
corrosion of which a third is brought prematurely to the grave, proves
how indiscriminate are their carping comments, and how identical
towards all degrees of merit is their infernal hate."

Pollok speaks of the censor in the following lines:--

"The critics--some, but few,
Were worthy men; and earned renown which had
Immortal roots; but most were weak and vile;
And as a cloudy swarm of summer flies,
With angry hum and slender lance, beset
The sides of some huge animal; so did
They buzz about the illustrious man, and fain
With his immortal honour, down the stream
Of fame would have descended; but alas!
The hand of time drove them away: they were
Indeed a simple race of men, who had
One only art, which taught them still to say,
Whate'er was done might have been better done;
And with this art, not ill to learn, they made
A shift to live; but sometimes, too, beneath
The dust they raised, was worth awhile obscured:
And then did envy prophesy and laugh.
O envy! hide thy bosom! hide it deep:
A thousand snakes, with black, envenomed mouths,
Nest there, and hiss, and feed through all thy heart!"

"The manner in which cynical censors of artistic and moral worth proceed
is the same in every place and age. In Pope's time 'coxcombs' attempted
to 'vanquish Berkely with a grin,' and they would fain do the same
to-day. 'Is not this common,' exclaimed a renowned musician, 'the least
little critic, in reviewing some work of art, will say, pity