gion for me, though I confess I have hitherto
thought too little of religious matters. When, however, I have completed
this plaguy work on which I am engaged, I hope to be able to devote more
attention to them."
After some farther conversation, the subjects being, if I remember right,
college education, priggism, church authority, tomfoolery, and the like,
I rose and said to my host, "I must now leave you."
"Whither are you going?"
"I do not know."
"Stay here, then--you shall be welcome as many days, months, and years as
you please to stay."
"Do you think I would hang upon another man? No, not if he were Emperor
of all the Chinas. I will now make my preparations, and then bid you
farewell."
I retired to my apartment and collected the handful of things which I
carried with me on my travels.
"I will walk a little way with you," said my friend on my return.
He walked with me to the park gate; neither of us said anything by the
way. When we had come upon the road, I said, "Farewell now; I will not
permit you to give yourself any farther trouble on my account. Receive
my best thanks for your kindness; before we part, however, I should wish
to ask you a question. Do you think you shall ever grow tired of
authorship?"
"I have my fears," said my friend, advancing his hand to one of the iron
bars of the gate.
"Don't touch," said I, "it is a bad habit. I have but one word to add:
should you ever grow tired of authorship follow your first idea of
getting into Parliament; you have words enough at command; perhaps you
want manner and method; but, in that case, you must apply to a teacher,
you must take lessons of a master of elocution."
"That would never do!" said my host; "I know myself too well to think of
applying for assistance to any one. Were I to become a parliamentary
orator, I should wish to be an original one, even if not above
mediocrity. What pleasure should I take in any speech I might make,
however original as to thought, provided the gestures I employed and the
very modulation of my voice were not my own? Take lessons, indeed! why,
the fellow who taught me, the professor, might be standing in the gallery
whilst I spoke; and, at the best parts of my speech, might say to
himself, 'That gesture is mine--that modulation is mine.' I could not
bear the thought of such a thing."
"Farewell," said I, "and may you prosper. I have nothing more to say."
I departed. At the distance of twe
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