r ideas about
matter--as you know, of course, from the book I have published.
Nevertheless, a very pretty piece of speculative philosophy--no such
thing as matter--impossible that there should be--_ex nihilo_--what is
the Greek? I have forgot--very pretty indeed; very original.'

'I am afraid, sir, it was very wrong to write such trash, and yet more to
allow it to be published.'

'Trash! not at all; a very pretty piece of speculative philosophy; of
course you were wrong in saying there is no world. The world must exist,
to have the shape of a pear; and that the world is shaped like a pear,
and not like an apple, as the fools of Oxford say, I have satisfactorily
proved in my book. Now, if there were no world, what would become of my
system? But what do you propose to do in London?'

'Here is the letter, sir,' said I, 'of our good friend, which I have not
yet given to you; I believe it will explain to you the circumstances
under which I come.'

He took the letter, and perused it with attention. 'Hem!' said he, with
a somewhat altered manner, 'my friend tells me that you are come up to
London with the view of turning your literary talents to account, and
desires me to assist you in my capacity of publisher in bringing forth
two or three works which you have prepared. My good friend is perhaps
not aware that for some time past I have given up publishing--was obliged
to do so--had many severe losses--do nothing at present in that line,
save sending out the Magazine once a month; and, between ourselves, am
thinking of disposing of that--wish to retire--high time at my age--so
you see--'

'I am very sorry, sir, to hear that you cannot assist me' (and I remember
that I felt very nervous); 'I had hoped--'

'A losing trade, I assure you, sir; literature is a drug. Taggart, what
o'clock is it?'

'Well, sir!' said I, rising, 'as you cannot assist me, I will now take my
leave; I thank you sincerely for your kind reception, and will trouble
you no longer.'

'Oh, don't go. I wish to have some further conversation with you; and
perhaps I may hit upon some plan to benefit you. I honour merit, and
always make a point to encourage it when I can; but-- Taggart, go to the
bank, and tell them to dishonour the bill twelve months after date for
thirty pounds which becomes due to-morrow. I am dissatisfied with that
fellow who wrote the fairy tales, and intend to give him all the trouble
in my power. Make haste.'

Taggart