hought I was in the habit
of selling my books? Surely not?" Now this was what I _had_ thought.
"Come! You must have had some view on the matter. Two huge volumes
like that are not easily stolen." It was with extraordinary difficulty
that I could extricate myself.

It was something to talk to one who had been intimate with Charles
Lamb, and of whom he once spoke to me, with tears running down his
cheeks, "Ah! poor dear Charles Lamb!" The next day he had summoned his
faithful clerk, instructing him to look out among his papers--such was
his way--for all the Lamb letters, which were then lent to me. And
most interesting they were. In one, Elia calls him "_Fooster_," I
fancy taking off Carlyle's pronunciation.

As a writer and critic Forster held a high, unquestioned place, his
work being always received with respect as of one of the masters. He
had based his style on the admirable, if somewhat old-fashioned
models, had regularly _learned_ to write, which few do now, by
studying the older writers: Swift, Addison, and, above all, the
classics.

He was at first glad to do "job work," and was employed by Dr. Lardner
to furnish the "Statesmen of the Commonwealth" to his Encyclopaedia.
Lardner received from him a conscientious bit of work, but which was
rather dry reading, something after the pattern of Dr. Lingard, who
was then in fashion. But presently he was writing _con amore_, a book
after his own heart, _The Life and Adventures of Oliver Goldsmith_, in
which there is a light, gay touch, somewhat peculiar at times, but
still very agreeable. It is a charming book, and graced with exquisite
sketches by his friend Maclise and other artists. There was a great
deal of study and "reading" in it, which engendered an angry
controversy with Sir James Prior, a ponderous but pains-taking writer,
who had collected every scrap that was connected with Goldy. Forster,
charged with helping himself to what another had gathered, sternly
replied, as if it could not be disputed, that he had merely gone to
the same common sources as Prior, and had found what he had found! But
this was seasoned with extraordinary abuse of poor Prior, who was held
up as an impostor for being so industrious. Nothing better illustrated
Forster's way: "The fellow was preposterous--intolerable. I had just
as good a right to go to the old magazines as he had." It was, indeed,
a most amusing and characteristic controversy.

At this time the intimacy between Boz an