erder either, that
will suit the present taste; the evangelical body is becoming very
strong, sir--the canting scoundrels--"

"But, sir, surely you would not pander to a scoundrelly taste?"

"Then, sir, I must give up business altogether. Sir, I have a great
respect for the goddess Reason--an infinite respect, sir; indeed, in my
time, I have made a great many sacrifices for her; but, sir, I cannot
altogether ruin myself for the goddess Reason. Sir, I am a friend to
Liberty, as is well known; but I must also be a friend to my own family.
It is with the view of providing for a son of mine that I am about to
start the Review of which I was speaking. He has taken it into his head
to marry, sir, and I must do something for him, for he can do but little
for himself. Well, sir, I am a friend to Liberty, as I said before, and
likewise a friend to Reason; but I tell you frankly that the Review which
I intend to get up under the rose, and present him with when it is
established, will be conducted on Oxford principles." {190}

"Orthodox principles, I suppose you mean, sir?"

"I do, sir; I am no linguist, but I believe the words are synonymous."

Much more conversation passed between us, and it was agreed that I should
become a contributor to the Oxford Review. I stipulated, however, that,
as I knew little of politics, and cared less, no other articles should be
required from me than such as were connected with belles-lettres and
philology; to this the big man readily assented. "Nothing will be
required from you," said he, "but what you mention; and now and then,
perhaps, a paper on metaphysics. You understand German, and perhaps it
would be desirable that you should review Kant; and in a review of Kant,
sir, you could introduce to advantage your peculiar notions about _ex
nihilo_." He then reverted to the subject of the _Dairyman's Daughter_,
which I promised to take into consideration. As I was going away, he
invited me to dine with him on the ensuing Sunday.

"That's a strange man!" said I to myself, after I had left the house, "he
is evidently very clever; but I cannot say that I like him much, with his
Oxford Reviews and Dairyman's Daughters. But what can I do? I am almost
without a friend in the world. I wish I could find some one who would
publish my ballads, or my songs of Ab Gwilym. In spite of what the big
man says, I am convinced that, once published, they would bring me much
fame and profit. But how i