It is
loved by everybody. There, again, is BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE--conspicuous
for modest elegance and amiable satire; that review never passes the
bounds of politeness in a joke. It is the arbiter of manners; and, while
gently exposing the foibles of Londoners (for whom the BEAUX ESPRITS of
Edinburgh entertain a justifiable contempt), it is never coarse in its
fun. The fiery enthusiasm of the ATHENAEUM is well known: and the bitter
wit of the too difficult LITERARY GAZETTE. The EXAMINER is perhaps too
timid, and the SPECTATOR too boisterous in its praise--but who can carp
at these minor faults? No, no; the critics of England and the authors of
England are unrivalled as a body; and hence it becomes impossible for us
to find fault with them.
Above all, I never knew a man of letters ASHAMED OF HIS PROFESSION.
Those who know us, know what an affectionate and brotherly spirit there
is among us all. Sometimes one of us rises in the world: we never attack
him or sneer at him under those circumstances, but rejoice to a man at
his success. If Jones dines with a lord, Smith never says Jones is a
courtier and cringer. Nor, on the other hand, does Jones, who is in the
habit of frequenting the society of great people, give himself any airs
on account of the company he keeps; but will leave a duke's arm in Pall
Mall to come over and speak to poor Brown, the young penny-a-liner.
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