New-York daily tribune., 1843-03-14
as that any man now living begun that of person

to hear We or some authors that we hae heard mair
about than thae aud heather Greeks and Romans.
| NORTH. Swift we have already heard of. You
know Shakespeare owed his rise in life and letters
to song which he wrote against Wsrwokshire
Justice OF the Peace And Justice Shallo1c is al
together personal attack on the same worthy body.
Ben Jonson was perfect Turk fer pers rsonality-
his whole life was past in hot water.-Tide Is
raeli Why should allude the Greens and the
Nashes
'TIcKLER. These fellows were always at cat
and dog-quite more recentiorum.
NORTH. Nay, nay, forbid that we should be
quite so bad as that atas avorumi | would rather
die upon pile of blazing Magazines, like Sarda-
nepslus on his throne, than write one word within
one million of miles OF the personalities OF Milton
the divine Milton-ageinst Salmasius.
DIR. ScorT. Keep Us a.! Is that the same
great gospel-gun that the Paradise Lost, that
the SPECTATOR speaks muckle about
Pen OWEN. The same, she same Bah. It's
all fudge, and fudge fusty-as fussy as Benthamism
This is certainly an Ingenious, if not a success
fu defence. But lei US look at some of the crlti-
cal parts of the Noctes. Here is sentence about
CoLER1DeE, in which The Shepherd wazes almost
as eloquent the Poet of whom he speaks:
North. Mr.. Coleridge7 Is he in the habit,
Hosg, of making the public the conidants of bis
personal accomplishments
THE SHEPHERD. | Gamma we'll tell, for deevil
the like o. sic books as his did l ever see wi my
cen beneath the blessed LIGHT M speakin' o
his Poems. IL aye roose them-but the Freen
and Lay Sermons are aneuch to DIVE one to dis
traction. What g logic?
NORTH Upon my honor as gentleman do
not know; if did | would tell you with the
greatest pleasure.
The SHEpHEgD. Weel, wee, Coleridgeis aye
accusing foil; o haeng nae logic. The want o a
things is eDwing to the want o logic, it seems
Noo Mr.. North, gin logic be SCUM reasoning, and
| alouse as much, he has less o himself thanony
bedy l KEN Tor he never sticks to the point twa
pages; and 20 tell you the truth, ] aye feel as
were fuddled after perusng Coleridge. Then he s
aye speaking o himse-but what he says can
never max out. Let him stick te his poetry, for,
oh man, he IS an unyertbly writer, and gies Super
stion sao beautiful couutenance, that she wiles
folk on wi her, like many BARNS, into the flow
cry but fearful wilderness, where sleeping and
walking see IN a one thing, and the very soul with
in us wonders what has become o the everyday
ward and asks hersel what creation is this that
wavers and gmmers, and keeps up bonnie wild
musical sough, like that o swarming bees spring
startled birds, and the voice of hundred streams,
some wimpling ava over the Elysian meadows,
and ithers rearing at distance frae the cefts @
mount AborI.
What splendid picture is this, too, suggested
by artificial fly for catching trout-which North
had just harded TO the Shepherd for his exarnina-
ton
% man. says the Shepherd that IS the natur.
allies, thing ever suw IN a I1y born duys. / kOH
WHARF there IS muckle trout lying at this very
moment, below the root O. an suld brk, wi his
great snout up the stream, drawing in slugs and
ither eniualculas into his vortex, and no caring a
whisk O his tail for fees; but you Sc haze this in
the tongue O. you, nay Draw fellow before May
1ay. He II sock 1t in saftly, saftly, without show
ing uair than the lip @ him, and then Ill streck
him, and down the pool he IL gaung, snoring like
a whale, as gin he were descending in a his power
70 the bottoinloss pit, and then up wi !oup O.
lightning TO the vera lift, and in again into the
water wi squash and plunge, like man saun
in to the doukng and then out pool into anither,
like kelpio gaun n.coortng, through alang the
furds and shadows, and ettng wi a his might at
tie waterfa opposite Fahspe's house. LUX at
him! LUX at him! there he glides like susbeam
strong and steady, as i've him the butt and thirty
wards O. the pirn-nae stane TO stumble, and nae
tree TO fankle-bennie green hills shelving down
TO nv ain Yarrow-the sun lukin out upon James
Hogg, frae behnt clodd and breeze trae st.
Mary's Locb chanting song o triumph down
the vale Just as land him on the gowany edge
of that grassy-bedded bay,
Fair as a STAR when only one
Is shining in the sky
One would think that mig ht raise the shade OF
Izaak Walton himself.
Let US look, now, at another vein-philosophic
criticism for there is no department of literature
in which Prof Wilson is not master. Here is
passage of power and truth:
TICKER. Listen to one moment more,
Odoherty. The fact, sir, stands simply thus
[, is Obvious to any enc who Is capable OF casting
comprehensive eye overthlngs, that there are tnree
different greatvens Of thought and sentimentprev-
aleut in this age of the world; and hold it to be
equally clear, that England has furnished at least
| one great poetical sxpositor and interpreter tor
each of the three. This, sir, is the Age of Revo-
luton. II is an age in which earth rocks to and
fro upon its foundations-in which recourse Is had
10 the elements of all things-in which thrones and
Nominations, and principles, and powers, and oPin-
IONS and creeds, are all alike subjected to the
sitting of the winds of Intellect and the tossing
and Ia shnp of the waves of Passion Now, there are
three ways in which the mind of poetic power may
look at all this-therear three parts among whlca
/, NAV choose. First, there is the spirit OF scorn
of that which is old-of universal distrust and de-
rison, mingled up with certain phrenzy OF indig
nation and innovating fury-heEe is ByreR- lhen
there is the high heroic spirit of veneration ior
that which has been-that still deeper, that lnln-
tely more philosophical distrust which has tor It's
object this very rage and storm of coxcomocal in
nsyat;en which | have been describing-this is
| Sco,s-,he noble bard of the noble-the prop OF
the venerable towers and temples, beneath which
our fathers worshipped and did homage in hedays
] of a higher, purer, more chivalric race Ihls