Will that truculent and unsparing monster who attacks the nobility, the
clergy, the army, and the ladies, indiscriminately, hesitate when the
turn comes to EGORGER his own flesh and blood?

My dear and excellent querist, whom does the schoolmaster flog so
resolutely as his own son? Didn't Brutus chop his offspring's head off?
You have a very bad opinion indeed of the present state of literature
and of literary men, if you fancy that any one of us would hesitate to
stick a knife into his neighbour penman, if the latter's death could do
the State any service.

But the fact is, that in the literary profession THERE ARE NO SNOBS.
Look round at the whole body of British men of letters; and I defy you
to point out among them a single instance of vulgarity, or envy, or
assumption.

Men and women, as far as I have known them, they are all modest in
their demeanour, elegant in their manners, spotless in their lives, and
honourable in their conduct to the world and to each other. You MAY,
occasionally, it is true, hear one literary man abusing his brother; but
why? Not in the least out of malice; not at all from envy; merely from a
sense of truth and public duty. Suppose, for instance, I, good-naturedly
point out a blemish in my friend MR. PUNCH'S person, and say, MR. P. has
a hump-back, and his nose and chin are more crooked than those features
in the Apollo or Antinous, which we are accustomed to consider as our
standards of beauty; does this argue malice on my part towards MR.
PUNCH? Not in the least. It is the critic's duty to point out defects as
well as merits, and he invariably does his duty with utmost gentleness
and candour.

An intelligent foreigner's testimony about our manners is always worth
having, and I think, in this respect the work of an eminent American,
Mr. N. P. Willis is eminently valuable and impartial. In his 'History
of Ernest Clay,' a crack magazine-writer, the reader will get an exact
account of the life of a popular man of letters in England. He is always
the lion of society.

He takes the PAS of dukes and earls; all the nobility crowd to see him:
I forget how many baronesses and duchesses fall in love with him. But
on this subject let us hold our tongues. Modesty forbids that we should
reveal the names of the heart-broken countesses and dear marchionesses
who are pining for every one of the contributors in PUNCH.

If anybody wants to know how intimately authors are connected with
the fashionab