o far as his general propositions
are concerned. But when he comes to apply his criticisms, he instinctively
feels the want of an absolute standard of judgment in aesthetic matters,
and accordingly appeals to the verdict of "scholars,"--a somewhat vague
term, to be sure, but by which he evidently understands men not merely of
learning, but of taste. Of course, his reasoning is all _a posteriori_,
and from the narrowest premises,--namely, from an unpleasant effect on his
own nerves, to an efficient cause in the badness of Mr. Newman's
translation.

No quarrels, perhaps, are so bitter as those about matters of taste:
hardly even is the _odium theologicum_, so profound as the _odium
aestheticum_. A man, perhaps, will more easily forgive another for
disbelieving his own total depravity than for believing that Guido is a
great painter or Tupper an inspiring poet. The present dispute, therefore,
tenderly personal as it is on the part of one of the pleaders, is
especially interesting as showing a very decided and gratifying advance in
the civilization of literary men to-day as compared with that of a century
or indeed half a century ago. If we go back still farther, matters were
still worse, and we find Luther and even Milton raking the kennel for dirt
dirty enough to fling at an antagonist. But even within the memory of man,
the style of the "Dunciad" was hardly obsolete in "Blackwood" and the
"Quarterly." It is very pleasant, in the present case, to see both attack
and defence conducted with so gentlemanlike a reserve,--and the latter,
which is even more surprising, with an approach to amenity.

In Mr. Newman the Professor of Poetry finds an able and wary antagonist,
and one who, in point of learning, carries heavier metal than himself. The
dispute turns partly on the character of Homer's poetry, partly on the
true method of translation, (especially Homeric translation,) and partly
on the particular merits of Mr. Newman's attempt as compared with those of
others. Of course, many side-topics are incidentally touched upon, among
others, the English hexameter, Mr. Newman's objections to which are
particularly worthy of attention.

Mr. Newman instantly sees and strikes at the weak point of his adversary's
argument. "You appeal to scholars," he says in substance; "you admit that
I am one; now you _don't_ like my choice of words or metre; I _do_; who,
then, shall decide? Why, the public, of course, which is the court of last
app