His next publication was "The Excursion, being a portion of The Recluse," printed in quarto in the autumn of 1814. The critics were hard upon it. "This will never do," was the memorable opening of the review in the _Edinburgh_. Men who thought for themselves thought highly of the poem--but few dared to speak out. Jeffrey boasted wherever he went that he had _crushed_ it in its birth. "_He_ crush 'The Excursion!'" said Southey, "tell him he might as easily crush Skiddaw." What Coleridge often wished, that the first two books of "The Excursion" had been published separately under the name of "The Deserted Cottage" was a happy idea--and one, if it had been carried into execution, that would have removed many of the trivial objections made at the time to its unfinished character. While "The Excursion" was still dividing the critics much in the same way that Davenant's "Gondibert" divided them in the reign of Charles the Second, "Peter Bell" appeared, to throw among them yet greater difference of opinion. The author was evidently aware that the poem, from the novelty of its construction, and the still greater novelty of its hero, required some protection, and this protection he sought behind the name of Southey: with which he tells us in the Dedication, his own had often appeared "both for good and evil." The deriders of the poet laughed still louder than before--his admirers too were at first somewhat amazed--and the only consolation which the poet obtained was from a sonnet of his own, in imitation of Milton's sonnet, beginning: A book was writ of late called "Tetrachordon." This sonnet runs as follows-- A book came forth of late, called "Peter Bell;" Not negligent the style;--the matter?--good As aught that song records of Robin Hood; Or Roy, renowned through many a Scottish dell; But some (who brook these hackneyed themes full wet Nor heat at Tam O'Shanter's name their blood) Waxed wrath, and with foul claws, a harpy brood On Bard and Hero clamorously fell. Heed not, wild Rover once through heath and glen. Who mad'st at length the better life thy choice. Heed not such onset! Nay, if praise of men To thee appear not an unmeaning voice, Lift up that gray-haired forehead and rejoice In the just tribute of thy poet's pen.