necessity of isolation which genius has always felt. He must
stand on his glass tripod, if he would keep his electricity.

But when the political aspects are so calamitous that the
sympathies of the man overpower the habits of the poet, a higher
than Literary inspiration may succour him. It is a costly proof
of character, that the most renowned scholar of England should
take his reputation in his hand and should descend into the ring;
and he has added to his love whatever honour his opinions may
forfeit. To atone for this departure from the vows of the
scholar and his eternal duties to this secular charity, we have
at least this gain, that here is a message which those to whom it
was addressed cannot choose but hear. Though they die, they must
listen. It is plain that whether by hope or by fear, or were it
only by delight in this panorama of brilliant images; all the
great classes of English society must read, even those whose
existence it proscribes. Poor Queen Victoria--poor Sir Robert
Peel--poor Primate and Bishops--poor Dukes and Lords! There is
no help in place or pride or in looking another way; a grain of
wit is more penetrating than the lightning of the night-storm,
which no curtains or shutters will keep out. Here is a book
which will be read, no thanks to anybody but itself. What pains,
what hopes, what vows, shall come of the reading! Here is a book
as full of treason as an egg is full of meat, and every lordship
and worship and high form and ceremony of English conservatism
tossed like a football into the air, and kept in the air, with
merciless kicks and rebounds, and yet not a word is punishable by
statute. The wit has eluded all official zeal; and yet these
dire jokes, these cunning thrusts, this darning sword of Cherubim
waved high in air, illuminates the whole horizon, and shows to