em. Whatsoever is not beaverish seems to go forth
in the shape of talk. To such length is human intellect wasted or
suppressed in this world!

If the young aspirant is not rich enough for Parliament, and is deterred
by the basilisks or otherwise from entering on Law or Church, and cannot
altogether reduce his human intellect to the beaverish condition, or
satisfy himself with the prospect of making money,--what becomes of
him in such case, which is naturally the case of very many, and ever
of more? In such case there remains but one outlet for him, and notably
enough that too is a talking one: the outlet of Literature, of trying
to write Books. Since, owing to preliminary basilisks, want of cash, or
superiority to cash, he cannot mount aloft by eloquent talking, let
him try it by dexterous eloquent writing. Here happily, having three
fingers, and capital to buy a quire of paper, he can try it to all
lengths and in spite of all mortals: in this career there is happily
no public impediment that can turn him back; nothing but private
starvation--which is itself a _finis_ or kind of goal--can pretend to
hinder a British man from prosecuting Literature to the very utmost, and
wringing the final secret from her: "A talent is in thee; No talent is
in thee." To the British subject who fancies genius may be lodged in
him, this liberty remains; and truly it is, if well computed, almost the
only one he has.

A crowded portal this of Literature, accordingly! The haven of
expatriated spiritualisms, and alas also of expatriated vanities and
prurient imbecilities: here do the windy aspirations, foiled activities,
foolish ambitions, and frustrate human energies reduced to the vocable
condition, fly as to the one refuge left; and the Republic of Letters
increases in population at a faster rate than even the Republic of
America. The strangest regiment in her Majesty's service, this of the
Soldiers of Literature:--would your Lordship much like to march through
Coventry with them? The immortal gods are there (quite irrecognizable
under these disguises), and also the lowest broken valets;--an extremely
miscellaneous regiment. In fact the regiment, superficially viewed,
looks like an immeasurable motley flood of discharged play-actors,
funambulists, false prophets, drunken ballad-singers; and marches not
as a regiment, but as a boundless canaille,--without drill, uniform,
captaincy or billet; with huge over-proportion of drummers; you would