ure and Fate. Almost every other grace of matter and form that can
be found in prose may be found at times in his. He is generally thought
of as, and for the most part is, a rather plain and straightforward
writer, with few tricks and frounces of phrase and style. Yet most of
the fine writing of these latter days is but as crumpled tarlatan to
brocaded satin beside the passage on Coleridge in the _English Poets_,
or the description of Winterslow and its neighbourhood in the "Farewell
to Essay-writing," or "On a Landscape of Nicolas Poussin" in the
_Table-Talk_. Read these pieces and nothing else, and an excusable
impression might be given that the writer was nothing if not florid. But
turn over a dozen pages, and the most admirable examples of the grave
and simple manner occur. He is an inveterate quoter, yet few men are
more original. No man is his superior in lively, gossiping description,
yet he could, within his limits, reason closely and expound admirably.
It is, indeed, almost always necessary, when he condemns anything, to
inquire very carefully as to the reasons of the condemnation. But
nothing that he likes (except Napoleon) is ever bad: everything that he
praises will repay the right man who, at the right time, examines it to
see for what Hazlitt likes it. I have, for my part, no doubt that Miss
Sarah Walker was a very engaging young woman; but (though the witness is
the same) I have the gravest doubts as to Hazlitt's charges against her.

We shall find this same curious difference everywhere in Hazlitt. He has
been talking, for instance, with keen relish of the "Conversation of
Authors" (it is he, be it remembered, who has handed down to us the
immortal debate at one of Lamb's Wednesdays on "People one would Like
to have Seen"), and saying excellent things about it. Then he changes
the key, and tells us that the conversation of "Gentlemen and Men of
Fashion" will not do. Perhaps not; but the wicked critic stops and asks
himself whether Hazlitt had known much of the conversation of "Gentlemen
and Men of Fashion"? We can find no record of any such experiences of
his. In his youth he had no opportunity: in his middle age he was
notoriously recalcitrant to all the usages of society, would not dress,
and scarcely ever dined out except with a few cronies. This does not
seem to be the best qualification for a pronouncement on the question.
Yet this same essay is full of admirable things, the most admirable
being, per