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A GREAT critic-one whose strokes were those of an exquisitely trained boxer, as compared with the feeble buffeting of women and children—was now to step out of the crowd, and command the attention of the whole ring. Beside this masterly effort, the flutter of weak pamphlets and impotent libels, came down like a cloud of feathers. Here were real swinging knocks, planted with marvellous scientific skill, aimed at the sorest and tenderest places, making every one reel and stagger; and the satire, the splendid rhyme, the fine close English, “ the wit, the strong and easy verse, the grasp of character, and the rude free daring of the Rosciad,” were now to burst upon the town, and teach mere scribblers with what deadly point and personality true genius can strike and kill.
In this wonderful onslaught was found room and