Early Reviews of English Poets

In Short

This volume serves as a curated archive of original literary criticism from the 18th and 19th centuries, focusing on how early reviewers reacted to works by iconic poets like Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, Shelley, Keats, and Tennyson. By pairing these scathing or dismissive contemporary reviews with the historical hindsight of the poets' eventual fame, the book exposes the fallibility of critics. It provides a fascinating, sometimes painful look at the "literary censorship" of the past, capturing the professional rivalries, political biases, and shifting aesthetic standards that defined the reception of canonical poetry.

The Story

The narrative begins not with a single hero, but with the emergence of the influential literary review itself—a powerful institution that shaped public taste. The book charts the rise of giants like the Edinburgh Review, founded in 1802, which brought a new, better-remunerated, and more aggressive standard to criticism. These periodicals were not merely neutral platforms; they were arenas for political advocacy and personal settling of scores. The arc of the book follows the progression of English poetry through the eyes of these gatekeepers, moving from the pastoral and descriptive verse of the late 18th century into the early Romantic period.

As the story unfolds, the reader witnesses the brutal treatment of poets who would eventually define their era. William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge are introduced to the public through the lens of early, often malicious reviews—such as Robert Southey’s critique of the Lyrical Ballads, which was fueled by professional jealousy and personal quarrels. The book details how critics, accustomed to the orderly, polished heroics of Pope and Dryden, reacted with confusion and hostility to the "new principles" of verse, such as the rhythmic innovations in Coleridge’s Christabel.

The middle section shifts to the rise of historical narrative poetry, exemplified by Sir Walter Scott. Critics are shown dissecting Marmion for its lack of structural unity and its "gratuitous description," lamenting that the work failed to meet the lofty, epic standards of the past. As the timeline moves into the 19th century, the focus turns to the "Cockney School"—a label used to diminish the influence of writers like John Keats and Leigh Hunt. The reviews documented here capture the intense vitriol directed at these poets, with Keats being dismissed for his perceived affectations and intellectual pretension.

The narrative reaches its most dramatic point with the arrival of Percy Bysshe Shelley. Here, the book documents a "persistent stream of abuse" that followed his publications. The reviews of The Cenci, in particular, are highlighted for their moral outrage, framing his work as a "horrible literary monstrosity." The final movement of the book observes the changing landscape of literary authority, as the Spectator and other outlets introduce a more thoughtful, if still contentious, tone. By the time the text reaches the mid-Victorian era and the reception of Tennyson, the reader has witnessed a complete transformation in the relationship between the critic and the poet. The book concludes by demonstrating that while the critics often failed to recognize genius in its infancy, their voices remain a vital, if "doleful," record of the friction between innovation and established tradition.

How It Unfolds

The emergence of the critics The text opens by examining the rise of the influential Edinburgh Review, detailing its rapid success and the high fees that attracted the period's most capable, if occasionally biased, minds. It establishes the critical landscape that would soon dictate the fortunes of aspiring writers.

The trial of the Romantics The focus shifts to the debut of the Lyrical Ballads, where the personal vendettas of reviewers like Southey lead to early, dismissive assessments. The narrative highlights the clash between established poetic conventions and the emerging, experimental spirit of the age.

The critique of the epic The book moves to the reception of Sir Walter Scott’s Marmion, analyzing the complaints of critics who found fault with its narrative structure and stylistic deviations. This section illustrates the reviewers' struggle to reconcile traditional epic expectations with contemporary storytelling methods.

The targeting of the Cockney School The investigation turns to the systematic belittling of Keats and his contemporaries, who were often attacked for their background and radical associations. It captures the specific, biting language used to categorize and marginalize these emerging voices.

The condemnation of Shelley The account details the relentless hostility directed toward Shelley, specifically focusing on the moral panic surrounding The Cenci. It portrays a critic class largely incapable of separating the poet’s perceived character from the artistic merit of the work.

The evolving literary discourse The book concludes by tracking the shift toward more nuanced criticism in publications like the Spectator. It leaves the reader to consider the enduring, uncomfortable tension between the raw production of art and the cold, often short-sighted judgment of the public record.

The People

Francis Jeffrey emerges as the quintessential editor of the Edinburgh Review, a man whose sharp intellect and professional rigor helped establish the authority of the critic, even as his judgments of contemporary poets often proved narrow-minded. Sydney Smith, a co-founder of the same review, represents the energetic, journalistic side of the venture, setting the tone for the publication's success.

William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge are the central subjects of the early chapters; they move from being misunderstood, "travelling bards" to the primary targets of established reviewers who viewed their revolutionary approach to nature and meter as a threat to public taste. Sir Walter Scott serves as a representative of the popular poet whose commercial success could not shield him from the critical dissection of his narrative style. John Keats is the tragic figure, frequently maligned by the "Cockney School" detractors who attacked his social status and aesthetic choices, while Percy Bysshe Shelley endures the most persistent, spiteful abuse, as his work is consistently labeled a moral danger by outraged critics. Finally, Richard Holt Hutton and Robert Stephen Rintoul represent the later evolution of the editorial class, attempting to bring a more "Quixotic fairness" and thoughtful religious sensibility to the pages of the Spectator.

In Own Voice

"Even a reader of meagre imagination and rude sensibilities could not peruse such a volume without picturing in his mind the anguish and the heart-ache which those bitter and often vicious attacks inflicted upon the unfortunate victims whose works were being assailed."

This reflection in the preface highlights the emotional reality hidden behind the formal, detached tone of 19th-century criticism.

"If the printing of such trash as this be not felt as an insult on the public taste, we are afraid it cannot be insulted."

A contemporary reviewer uses this blunt, dismissive language to characterize their reaction to Wordsworth’s Alice Fell.

"No wonder that he who could be guilty of this should class Haydon with Raphael, and himself with Spencer [sic]."

The reviewer employs this biting sarcasm to mock Keats’s bold association of his own work with that of classical masters.

What It's Really About

The book is a study in the inherent fallibility of cultural gatekeepers. It argues that the "verdicts" of the past are rarely objective measures of quality, but are instead mirrors of their time—saturated with political agendas, personal grievances, and an inability to perceive structural shifts in art. The underlying question is whether a critic’s primary duty is to protect established standards or to remain open to the "new principles" that define a new generation. By juxtaposing the harsh, contemporaneous condemnations with the eventual canonization of the poets, the book forces the reader to confront the reality that today's "trash" can easily become tomorrow's foundational literature. It is an argument for humility in judgment.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy literary history will find this an essential, if sobering, companion to the works of the major English poets. It provides the rare opportunity to see these icons not as statues on a pedestal, but as living, vulnerable writers who were often blindsided by the same cruelty that characterizes much of today’s online discourse. The prose is warm and precise, and the structure is accessible, though the density of 19th-century names and the long, archaic excerpts require a patient, deliberate pace.

What lingers after finishing is the realization that the "blindness" of the past is not unique to the 1800s; the book serves as a sharp reminder that the contemporary reception of any art is almost always a flawed process. It is a rewarding read for those who want to understand how fame is constructed and how easily the loudest critical voices can be proven wrong by the slow, steady march of time. If you can move past the period-specific attitudes that the excerpts preserve, you will walk away with a profound respect for the resilience of true innovation in the face of institutionalized skepticism.