standing; but
still, considering that academic bodies _are_ partly instituted for
the support of speculative truth as well as truth practical, we must
think it a blot upon the splendour of Oxford and Cambridge that both
of them, in a Christian land, make Paley the foundation of their
ethics; the alternative being Aristotle. And, in our mind, though far
inferior as a moralist to the Stoics, Aristotle is often less a pagan
than Paley.

Coleridge's dislike to Sir Sidney Smith and the Egyptian Lord
Hutchinson fell under the category of Martial's case.

"Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare,
Hoc solum novi--non amo te, Sabidi."

Against Lord Hutchinson, we never heard him plead any thing of moment,
except that he was finically Frenchified in his diction; of which he
gave this instance--that having occasion to notice a brick wall,
(which was literally _that_, not more and not less,) when
reconnoitring the French defences, he called it a _revetement_. And we
ourselves remember his using the French word _gloriole_ rather
ostentatiously; that is, when no particular emphasis attached to the
case. But every man has his foibles; and few, perhaps, are less
conspicuously annoying than this of Lord Hutchinson's. Sir Sidney's
crimes were less distinctly revealed to our mind. As to Cuvier,
Coleridge's hatred of _him_ was more to our taste; for (though quite
unreasonable, we fear) it took the shape of patriotism. He insisted on
it, that our British John Hunter was the genuine article, and that
Cuvier was a humbug. Now, speaking privately to the public, we cannot
go quite so far as _that_. But, when publicly we address that most
respectable character, _en grand costume_, we always mean to back
Coleridge. For we are a horrible John Bull ourselves. As Joseph Hume
observes, it makes no difference to us--right or wrong, black or
white--when our countrymen are concerned. And John Hunter,
notwithstanding he had a bee in his bonnet,[26] was really a great
man; though it will not follow that Cuvier must, therefore, have been
a little one. We do not pretend to be acquainted with the tenth part
of Cuvier's performances; but we suspect that Coleridge's range in
that respect was not much greater than our own.

Other cases of monomaniac antipathy we might revive from our
recollections of Coleridge, had we a sufficient motive. But in
compensation, and by way of redressing the balance, he had many
strange likings--equally monomaniac--an