r.
Layard says somewhere in the account of his uncoveries, 'They
_literally_ bathed my shoes with their tears!' _Idem, sed quantum
mutatus ab illo!_ I am almost tempted to the ambiguous wish that he
might have _slipped in literally_ to one of the many graves he robbed
figuratively.

Now listen for a moment to Miss Giggley, who is telling of her
temptation to laugh at some young unfortunate who thought he was making
himself very agreeable. 'Really and truly, upon my word and honor, I
positively thought I--should--die: as sure as I'm alive.' You pretty
liar! You smiling murderess! You playful puss, gracefully toying with
the victims your sweet mouth kills! Those expletives were like five
strong men standing in a row, and you were like a bright,
innocent-looking electric machine, with its transparent and clear-voiced
cylinder, which is capable (give it only enough turnings) of making the
men, at a shock, into five long, prostrate heaps of clay, lifeless,
useless, and offensive, as are the expletives in question, by reason of
a succession of just such shocking assaults as the untruth you this
moment swore to.

Anonymous writers, as a class, might be called the Boythorns of
Literature. All of them, from Junius down, have shown a great
satisfaction in waving a tremendously sharp sword out from behind a
fence. Sometimes the hand that has held the weapon was strong enough to
have done good service wherever it might have been engaged, but always
the wielding is a little more fearless than if the owner's face were
visible, and usually it is the better for his cause that it was not. We
all know what a _very_ large cannon the monkey touched off, and how, if
any one _had_ been in the way, it might have hurt him very much. As when
a traveller writes of a far country, he tries to make it seem worth all
the trouble he took to go there, so a critic must find enough bad about
a book to make his article on it important and interesting.

These exaggerators--these _captatores_ (and _occisores_)
_verborum_--have no idea of the adaptation of means to ends. They are
not deficient in forces--they have a powerful army, but no generalship.
Horse, foot, and artillery; it's all vanguard. Right, left, and
centre--but all vanguard. At the first glimpse, pioneers and scouts,
rank and file, sappers and miners, sutlers and supernumeraries, all come
thundering down like a thousand of brick, and gleaming in the purple and
gold of imagery, to rout, dis