“Yes, I am he, who on the novel shed
Obscure philosophy’s enchanting light!
Until the public, wildering as they read,
Believed they saw that which was not in sight—
Of course ’twas not for me to set them right;
For in my nether heart convinced I am,
Philosophy’s as good as any other bam.”
This last line really hits the truth of the matter, and raises Bon Gaultier into the class of interpretative critics.
The style of Leigh Hunt is familiarly known, and the exquisiteness of the following parody can be generally appreciated. It is worthy of Hunt himself, and might have been written by him in one of his cosiest dallyings with the “well of English undefiled.” The argument is that an impassioned pupil of Hunt met Gaultier at a ball, and thus declares the consequences:
“Didst thou not praise me, Gaultier, at the ball—