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The writer tells us that he has 'experienced a great temptation to tell what he has seen, and to 'expose the result of experience acquired at his own cost, with all attendant risk and danger. Probably we do not understand the fear of the author of 'Tardy Truths, and wish to give no extended explanation to his conclusion: 'A rare opportunity occurs at present, and he profits by it. We have been taught that we must always have courage to speak the truth.
It would hardly be right in this place to recall the distinctive merits of the able and learned scholars who have formed the academic staff during the first fourteen years, but perhaps the writer may be allowed to pay in passing a tribute of gratitude and respect to those who entered the service of the University at its beginning.
There is another allusion to the house in the Spectator. "Sometimes I" the writer is Addison "smoke a pipe at Child's, and while I seem attentive to nothing but the Postman, overhear the conversation of every table in the room." Apart from such decided lay patrons as Addison, Child's could also claim a large constituency among the medical and learned men of the day.
Only some credible persons," he concludes, "have assured me they have seen some as big as their fist." This last writer thus avers that he saw little birds within the shells he clearly enough describes as those of the barnacles. We must either credit Sir Robert with describing what he never saw, or with misconstruing what he did see.
When it was finally forced upon one, you examined the handwriting at various angles and speculated about the writer. Some felt emboldened, after these precautions, to open the letter, but this haste was considered indecent.
He says, "Edgar Saltus is the best writer in America with a few insignificant exceptions," but he deplores the fact that Saltus knows nothing about the cows and chickens; only cities and gods seem to interest him. Still there is some atmosphere in this study, which is devoted to one book, "The Lords of the Ghostland."
I had learned that he had seen the Hulls come from my uncle's rooms an' had kept quiet. Hull admitted that he had been forced to bribe him. I tackled Shibo with it an' threatened to tell the police. Evidently he became frightened an' tried to murder me. I got a note makin' an appointment at the Denmark Building at eleven in the night. The writer promised to tell me who killed my uncle.
VII. A thousand authors may be read, and in vain contradictions looked for in any of them. When, therefore, a writer is found contradicting himself, it is a peculiarity to be noted as uncommonly striking; one contradiction being found, several may be looked for.
The clerks and shopmen seemed as much "au fait" as their employers, and many is the conversation I heard about the merits of this writer or that Dickens, Ainsworth, Lover, Lever. I think, in walking the streets, and looking at the ragged urchins crowding there, every Englishman must remark that the superiority of intelligence is here, and not with us.
Not one of the hands in the office where the wonderful book was printed ever became a convert to the system, although the writer of this was often assured by Harris, that if he did not, he would be destroyed in 1832. As I have mentioned the word titles: I must make myself understood.
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