19, Christopher North and the Cockneys. 



idiot's most idiotic moments.* To all these we listen, not only with 

 calmness and temper, but with apparent a'pplause. We confess we feel a 

 kind of Mephistophelian delight, when we behold them voluntarily sur- 

 rendering themselves to the merciful and harmless direction of our 

 amusement. We look upon the twaddle of each as *' The Confessions of 

 an English Nonsense Grinder." He is only saying, in other words, " Will 

 no one, for Heaven's sake, cotne and see what a fool Nature has made 

 me, or I am making of myself ? I am utterly without taste or feeling ; 

 I am quite unable to understand or to participate in a source of pleasure 

 which the rest of the world, without doubt, receives. I cannot see what 

 is as plain as a pike-staff. I am, thank God, an undeniable, an au- 

 thentic ass." 



But, although we are as amiable as we have described ourselves to be, 

 and forbearing withal, 



" Yet have we in us something dangerous." 



We are not to be provoked with impunity. We have a mortal antipathy 

 to bullies of all descriptions j and if we are to be eaten alive, it must not 

 be by a Parolles or a Pistol. We must not endure that a coarse Edinburgh 

 Scotchman shall walk up to London, on a pair of crutches, for the mere 

 purpose of abusing us j and we see no sufficient reason why an English 

 cudgel should not be as effectual as it has heretofore proved ; especially 

 when, to say the truth, the head against which it is directed is not so im- 

 pregnably or impenetrably thick as the " shameless brows " of some, who 

 " lend the weight" of their leaden skulls to the same cause. 



A month or two back, we took occasion to review the reviewers of Miss 

 fanny Kemble's tragedy since dead, and by this time forgotten. We 

 said very plainly then, and we repeat it now, that there is a private influ- 

 ence at work in periodical periodications more especially, however, indi- 

 cated and disclosed in the Quarterly Review, and Blackwood's Magazine, 

 thoroughly disgraceful to the parties interested, (interested, we suppose,) 

 in its continuance. We shewed that private friendship would inflict upon 

 us a Miss Fanny Kemble, and that private envy, hatred, or malice would 

 bid us reject a Keats, or despise a Shelley. What, however, in Pro- 

 fessor Millman was that kind of good nature which sticks at nothing in 

 the advancement of its favorites, was, in the other, the cool unblushing 

 impudence of a man perfectly conscious of the stuff which he, nevertheless, 

 is well pleased to applaud, and determine to do the young lady, its author- 

 ess, a good turn, at all events. How else is the trade to be carried on ? 

 It was, certainly, amusing to hear one mumbling something concerning 

 Shakspeare, and the other chattering about the " old masters" as though 

 " Macbeth " were no better than " Fazio " and " the Faithful Shepherd- 

 ess," inferior to " Unimore." 



All this that we wrote, has, it seems, found no favour in the eyes of Mr. 

 Christopher North the self-elected Midas in these matters ; and if we are 

 to take his own words for it, a very formidable person indeed this 

 Master Charles, the wrestler, is a very strong man, we believe , but we 

 would as lief, if it so please him, that we should hear it from somebody 

 in corroboratiou of himself. Boasting is at all times a bad evidence of a 

 man's courage, and we should not in the least wonder if some Orlando 



* It is his opinion that Lord Grey is a Republican and a leveller he doubts 

 whether Lord Brougham is a clever man, and so on. 



