300 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



the mindful hearts of thousands, and becoming embodied with the 

 corpus of true English poetry. The character and the fame of many 

 of our finest writers are of this kind. For myself, I should desire no 

 other — in some manner I hope they are mine ; yours they certainly 

 are, and will be more and more as the days and years proceed. 



" Hitherto, I have not said as much as this of you publicly, and 

 for several good reasons. First. It is best and kindest to confer 

 praise after it is unquestionably due. Secondly. You, like myself, 

 are too much connected with the Magazine to be praised in it, ex- 

 cept when the occasion either demands it or entirely justifies it. 

 Thirdly. Genevieve is not my favorite poem, because the subject is 

 essentially non-tragic to my imagination, finely as it is written. 

 Fourthly. I shall, and that, too, right early, speak of you as you 

 ought to be spoken of, because the time has come when that can be 

 done rightfully and gracefully. Fifthly. I will do so when I feel 

 the proper time has come ; and, lastly, As often as I feel inclined, 

 which may be not unfrequent. I love to see genius getting its due ; 

 and, although your volume has not sold extensively, you are not- 

 withstanding a popular and an admired writer. 



" Having said this much conscientiously, and from the heart, I 

 now beg leave to revert to a matter of little importance, surely, in 

 itself, but of some importance to me and my feelings, since, un- 

 luckily, it has rather hurt yours, and that too, not unnaturally or 

 unreasonably, for I, too, have been a rejected contributor. In one 

 respect you have altogether misconceived Mr. Blackwood's letter, or 

 he has altogether misconceived the very few words I said about the 

 article. I made no comparison whatever between it and any other 

 article of the kind in ' Maga,' either written by you or by any one 

 else. But I said that the Beppo or Whistlecraft measure had be- 

 come so common, that its sound was to me intolerable, unless it was 

 executed in a transcendent style, like many of Mr. Lockhart's stan- 

 zas in the Mad Banker of Amsterdam, which, in my opinion, are 

 equal to any thing in Byron himself. Your composition, I frankly 

 and freely say now, will not, in my opinion, bear comparison, for 

 strength and variety, with that alluded to. I said further, that 

 there had been poems, and good ones too, without end, and also in 

 magazines, in that measure ; that it had, for a year or so, been al- 

 lowed to cease, and that I wished not to see its revival, except in 

 some most potent form indeed. That is all I said to Mr. Black- 



