14 Christopher North and the Cockneys. 



vermin had better be quiet," for death down upon the nail, will be the 

 portion of a hecatomb at least, if his truculent temper lasts much longer. 



By this time perhaps Mr. North's good humour is returned j and we 

 would beg to ask him, with great diffidence and humility, what he means 

 by the term Cockney, which he has applied to us, without, as it appears, 

 knowing any thing of the matter ? We have heard so much of this sort 

 of slang during the last few years from persons, too, whose contempt, 

 like their charity, had far better have begun at home that we are 

 tempted to enquire, what are the peculiar manifestations, whereby an 

 Edinburgh dunce is enabled to detect one in London? Is a Cockney 

 a native of London ? Yes. Well, where is the sarcasm ? It is not every 

 man's fortune to be born under a bush. What is there in the air of 

 London, that should necessarily deprive him of the common feelings 

 of humanity, or render him incapable of admiring the works of nature ? 

 But the wretch has been seen at Hampstead, and actually has the imper- 

 tinence to admire scenery, within a few miles of the metropolis. We 

 crave indulgence for the poor creature j for we begin to see there must 

 be some enormity here, which, nevertheless, we cannot for the life of us 

 comprehend. At this rate, Milton and Spenser were Cockneys and your 

 chaw-bacon is the only true poet. His bootless attempts to win the 

 prize, by jumping in a sack, is his "Paradise Lost;" and Cicely is his 

 " Fairy Queen/' Be it so. 



It is, however, asserted by others, that the term " Cockney" is not 

 meant to apply exclusively to natives of London, but is especially intended 

 to define a large class of persons, of whose moral stamina, impudence, 

 ignorance, conceit, and affectation, form the almost entire basis. Very 

 well. Then it is a very absurd name to call a coxcomb by, and Christo- 

 pher North, if he knows himself at all, must be very well aware that such 

 attributes are not the exclusive property of the London people. 



The fact is, impudence of this nature has been tolerated too long. 

 This metropolis, as we have said before, is inundated by a vast incursion 

 of brutal and cureless scamps, a great proportion of whom is composed 

 of the worst sort of Scotchmen our daily press is the collective wisdom 

 of Scotchmen our periodical literature is their almost entire property 

 hence the degradation of both. To this day, if you believe a Scotchman, 

 Dr. Blair is more profound than Aristotle, and Hume is a greater genius 

 that Shakspeare. These are the men so peculiarly well ordained to 

 sneer at Cockneys, and to brand with the term Cockneyism every thing 

 that aspires to elevate or to purify every thing that would unteach that, 

 which, by the operation of outward circumstances, men long resident in 

 large cities cannot but acquire every thing (but this is the unknown 

 tongue to a Scotchman) that would separate and distinguish sentiment 

 from sensuality. It is better to admire Nature at Highgate, although it 

 be not so lofty as the Calton Hill, than to be grovelling in the filth of 

 Edinburgh, or wallowing in the stews of Glasgow. London people, it 

 must be confessed, are not altogether so refined as Christopher North, or 

 Mr. Theodore Hook j but the Scotch are remarkable for their urbanity 

 and civilization, and we cannot all afford the purchase of silver forks. 

 There is a class of persons, we know, answering to the name of Toad- 

 eater, who would much rather dine, at sufferance, at another man's table 

 with a silver fork, than raise a steel one at their own : and who compound 

 for the meanest and basest servility to their superiors, by violent and 



