Mr Escot. Never. I look on periodical criticism in general to be a species of shop, where panegyric and defamation are sold, wholesale, retail, and for exportation. I am not inclined to be a purchaser of these commodities, or to encourage a trade which I consider pregnant with mischief.
Mr Mac Laurel. I can readily conceive, sir, ye wou'd na wullingly encoorage ony dealer in panegeeric: but, frae the manner in which ye speak o' the first creetics an' scholars o' the age, I shou'd think ye wou'd hae a leetle mair predilaction for deefamation.
Mr Escot. I have no predilection, sir, for defamation. I make a point of speaking the truth on all occasions; and it seldom happens that the truth can be spoken without some stricken deer pronouncing it a libel.
Mr Nightshade. You are perhaps, sir, an enemy to literature in general?
Mr Escot. If I were, sir, I should be a better friend to periodical critics.
Squire Headlong. Buz!
Mr Treacle. May I simply take the liberty to inquire into the basis of your objection?
Mr Escot. I conceive that periodical criticism disseminates superficial knowledge, and its perpetual adjunct, vanity; that it checks in the youthful mind the habit of thinking for itself; that it delivers partial opinions, and thereby misleads the judgment; that it is never conducted with a view to the general interests of literature, but
to serve the interested ends of individuals, and the miserable purposes of party.
Mr Mac Laurel. Ye ken, sir, a mon mun leeve.