The very fact of their being established (even the 'Rambler,' for
example, has its merits) is in their favour; and, indeed, some of the
works I shall refer to are masterpieces. My objection is to the sham
admiration of them, which does their authors no good (for their
circulation is now of no consequence to them), and is injurious not
only to modern writers (who are generally made the subject of base
comparison), but especially to the utterers of this false coin
themselves. One cannot tell falsehoods, even about one's views in
literature, without injury to one's morals, yet to 'tell the truth and
shame the devil' is easy, as it would seem, compared with telling the
truth and defying the critics.

I have alluded to the intrepidity of Miss Bronte in this matter; and,
curiously enough, it is women who have the most courage in the
expression of their literary opinions. It may be said, of course, that
this is due to the audacity of ignorance, and a well-known line may be
quoted (for some people, as I have said, are rude) in which certain
angels (who are _not_ women) are represented as being afraid to tread
in certain places. But I am speaking of women who are great readers.
Miss Martineau once confessed to me that she could see no beauties in
'Tom Jones.' 'Of course,' she said, 'the coarseness disgusts me, but
apart from that, I see no sort of merit in it.' 'What?' I replied, 'no
humour, no knowledge of human life?' 'No; to me it is a wearisome
book.'

I disagreed with her very much upon that point, and do so still; yet,
apart from the coarseness (which does not disgust everybody, let me
tell you), there is a good deal of tedious reading in 'Tom Jones.' At
all events that expression of opinion from such lips strikes me as
noteworthy.