It is certain that he who aims not merely to understand, but vigorously to apprehend, and distinctly to appreciate the work before him, will wish, in matters of opinion, to banish all thoughts of the critic, as an unwelcome intruder, however excellent in his kind, between himself and the author. In order that a man may thus become a critic for himself, he should seek to excite in himself a love of literature for its own sake, in opposition both to a mere love of entertainment and to mere indifference. For here, it is eminently true that unless a man loves he cannot understand. But then that love must be liberal and discriminating; it must be a love which will carry one through the difficulties of the way. But for these qualities a mere love of entertainment is least remarkable, devouring indiscriminately what is often least valuable, and blindly rejecting the rest. It deserves to be considered, whether this has not been too much the spirit of the readers of poetry. The maxim, that “it is the office of the poet to please, not to instruct,” ought not to be taken thus absolutely. It is indeed “sweetly uttered knowledge,” which the poet imparts, but is it the less knowledge? It is not indeed knowledge systematized, but not the less real knowledge of the human heart in all its relations. But the great obstacle to be removed, is an indifference which leads to desultory reading. We refer especially to an indifference to merits. Fault-finding we have enough; while of merits there is often a comparatively languid appreciation. A very low mind and small abilities may be equal to the former; the latter demands a mind liberal and vigorous. In order to remove this indifference, there must be a love of literature for its own sake. This will animate the mind with a liberal zeal, and, at the same time, will supersede the love of mere entertainment.