s exactly the same
characteristics now that it had then; and Tennyson has gone up to his
place among English poets. It is not "Blackwood," nor any quarterly
review or monthly magazine, (except, of course, the "North American" and
the "Atlantic,") which can decree or deny fame. While the critics are
busily proving that an author is a plagiarist or a pretender, the world
is crowning him,--as the first ocean-steamer from England brought Dr.
Lardner's essay to prove that steamers could not cross the ocean.
Literary criticism, indeed, is a lost art, if it ever were an art. For
there are no permanent acknowledged canons of literary excellence; and
if there were any, there are none who can apply them. What critic shall
decide if the song of a new singer be poetry, or the bard himself a
poet? Consequently, modern criticism wisely contents itself with
pointing out errors of fact or of inference, or the difference between
the critic's and the author's philosophic or aesthetic view, and bitterly
assaults or foolishly praises him. When Horace Binney Wallace, one of
the most accomplished and subtile-minded of our writers, says of General
Morris that he is "a great poet," and that "he who can understand Mr.
Emerson may value Mr. Bancroft," we can feel only the more profoundly
persuaded that fame is not the judgment of individuals, but of the mass
of men, and that he whose song men love to hear is a poet.

But while the magnetism of Longfellow's touch lies in the broad humanity
of his sympathy, which leads him neither to mysticism nor cynicism, and
which commends his poetry to the universal heart, his artistic sense is
so exquisite that each of his poems is a valuable literary study. In
this he has now reached a perfection quite unrivalled among living
poets, except sometimes by Tennyson. His literary career has been
contemporary with the sensational school, but he has been entirely
untainted by it, and in the present volume, "Tales of a Wayside Inn,"
his style has a tranquil lucidity which recalls Chaucer. The literary
style of an intellectually introverted age or author will always be
somewhat obscure, however gorgeous; but Longfellow's mind takes a
simple, child-like hold of life, and his style never betrays the
inadequate effort to describe thoughts or emotions that are but vaguely
perceived, which is the characteristic of the best sensational writing.
Indeed, there is little poetry by the eminent contemporary masters which
is so