itself. The
serene, strong life, reaching deep underground and high overhead, robed
itself in April and disrobed itself in October when the Common was a
cow-pasture, and observes the same seasons now that the old tree is
belted with an iron girdle and finds its feet covered with flowers.
Alas! my friends, the fence and the tulips are painfully suggestive.
Authorship is an iron girdle, and the blossoms of flattery that are
scattered at its feet are useful to it only as their culture keeps the
soil open to the sun and rain. No man can please the reading public ever
so little without being too highly commended for it in the heat of the
moment; and so, if he thinks of starting again for the prize of public
approbation, he finds himself heavily handicapped, and perhaps weighted
down, simply because he has made good running for some former stakes.

I don't like the position of my friend the Professor. I consider him
fully as good a man as myself.--I have, you know, often referred to him
and quoted him, and sometimes got so mixed up with him, that, like the
Schildbuergers at their town-meeting, I was puzzled to disentangle my own
legs from his, when I wanted to stand up by myself, they were got into
such a snarl together.--But I don't like the position of my friend the
Professor.

The first thing, of course, when he opens his mouth, will be to compare
him with his predecessor. Now, if he has the least tact in the world, he
will begin dull, so as to leave a wide margin for improvement. You may
be perfectly certain that he can talk and write just as well as I can;
but you don't think, surely, that he is going to begin where I left off.
Not unless we are to have a wedding in the first number;--and you are
not sure whether or not there is to be any wedding at all while the
Professor holds my seat at the table.

But I will tell you one thing,--if you sit a year or so at a long table,
you will see what life is. Christenings, weddings, funerals,--these are
the three legs it stands on; and you have a chance to see them all in a
twelvemonth, if the table is really a long one. I don't doubt the
Professor will have something to tell besides his opinions and fancies;
and if you like a book of thoughts with occasional incidents, as well as
a book of incidents with occasional thoughts, why, I see no reason why
you should not accept this talk of the Professor's as kindly as if it
had a fancy name and called itself a novel.

Life may be