5 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



better judges of literature than myself admire them still, I know. I 

 will only remark that I don't admire them. I don't say they are the 

 dullest novels ever printed, because that would be invidious, and 

 might do wrong to works of even greater pretensions ; but to my 

 mind they are dull. 



When Dr. Johnson is free to confess that he does not admire 

 Gray's " Elegy," and Macaulay to avow that he sees little to praise in 

 Dickens and Wordsworth, why should not humbler folks have the 

 courage of their own opinions ? They can not possibly be more wrong 

 than Johnson and Macaulay were, and it is surely better to be honest, 

 though it may expose one to some ridicule, than to lie. The more 

 we agree with the verdict of the generations before us on these mat- 

 ters, the more, it is quite true, we are likely to be right ; but the 

 agreement should be an honest one. At present very extensive do- 

 mains in literature are, as it were, inclosed and denied to the public 

 in respect to any free expression of their opinion. " They are splen- 

 did, they are faultless," cries the general voice, but the general eye 

 has not beheld them. Nothing, of course, could be more futile than 

 that, with every new generation, our old authors who have won their 

 fame should be ai'raigned anew at the bar of public criticism ; but, 

 on the other hand, there is no reason why the mouths of us poor mod- 

 erns should be muzzled, and still less that we "should praise with 

 alien lips." 



"Until Caldecott's charming illustrations of it made me laugh so 

 much," said a young lady to me the other day, "I confess though I 

 know it's very stupid of me I never saw much fun in 'John Gilpin.' 

 She evidently expected a reproof, and when I whispered in her ear 

 "Nor I," her lovely features assumed a look of positive enfranchise- 

 ment. 



" But am I right ? " she inquired. 



"You are certainly right, my dear young lady," said I, "not to 

 pretend admiration where you don't feel it ; as to liking ' John Gilpin,' 

 that is a matter of taste. It has, of course, simplicity to recommend 

 it ; but in my own case, though I'm fond of fun, it has never evoked 

 a smile. It has always seemed to me like one of Mr. Joe Miller's 

 stories put into tedious verse." 



I really almost thought (and hoped) that that young lady would 

 have kissed me. 



"Papa always says it is a free country," she exclaimed, "but I 

 never felt it to be the case before this moment." 



For years this beautiful and accomplished creature had locked this 

 awful secret in her innocent breast that she didn't see much fun in 

 "John Gilpin." " You have given me courage," she said, "to confess 

 something else. Mr. Caldecott has just been illustrating in the same 

 charming manner Goldsmith's 'Elegy on a Mad Dog,' and I'm very 

 sorry but I never laughed at that before, either. I have pretended 



