The three men now were drawn up quite still and motionless by the side of the hedge. The broad road lay before them curving out of sight on either side; the ground was hardening under an early tendency to frost, and the clear ring of approaching hoofs sounded on the ear of the robbers, ominous, haply, of the chinks of "more attractive metal," about, if Hope told no flattering tale, to be their own.
Heaven, posterity never will. Now we are on the subject of this Life, so excellent in many respects, we cannot but observe that we think the whole scope of its philosophy utterly unworthy of the accomplished mind of the writer; the philosophy consists of an unpardonable distorting of general truths, to suit the peculiarities of an individual, noble indeed, but proverbially morbid, and eccentric. A striking instance of this occurs in the laboured assertion that poets make but sorry domestic characters. What! because Lord Byron is said to have been a bad husband, was (to go no farther back for examples,) was Walter Scott a bad husband? or was Campbell? or is Mr. Moore himself? Why, in the name of justice, should it be insinuated that Milton was a bad husband, when, as far as any one can judge of the matter, it was Mrs. Milton who was the bad wife? And why, oh! why should we be told by Mr. Moore, a man who, to judge by Captain Rock and the Epicurean, wants neither learning nor diligence—why are we to be told, with peculiar emphasis, that Lord Bacon never married, when Lord Bacon not only married, but his marriage was so advantageous as to be an absolute epoch in his career? Really, really one begins to believe that there is not such a thing as a fact in the world!
↑ "Primus Graius homo mortaleis tollere contra &c."To these instances we might especially add the odes of Pindar, Horace, and Campbell.