them: if not, we will jog him into wakefulness, and remind him
of the _Parcels Delivery Company,_ which carries luggage of all
kinds, like mere letters, many times a day, over all corners of
our Babylon. In this, in the universal British _Penny Post,_ and
a thing or two of that sort, men begin to take advantage of their
crowded ever-whirling condition in these days, which brings such
enormous disadvantages along with it _un_sought for.--
Bibliopolist Appleton does not seem to be a "Hero,"--except after
his own fashion. He is one of those of whom the Scotch say,
"Thou wouldst do little for God if the Devil were dead!" The
Devil is unhappily dead, in that international bibliopolic
province, and little hope of his reviving for some time;
whereupon this is what Squire Appleton does. My respects to him
even in the Bedouin department, I like to see a complete man, a
clear decisive Bedouin.

For the rest, there is one man who ought to be apprised that I
can now stand robbery a little better; that I am no longer so
very poor as I once was. In Fraser himself there do now lie
vestiges of money! I feel it a great relief to see, for a year
or two at least, the despicable bugbear of Beggary driven out of
my sight; for _which_ small mercy, at any rate, be the Heavens
thanked. Fraser himself, for these two editions, One thousand
copies each, of the Lectures and _Sartor,_ pays me down on the
nail L150; consider that miracle! Of the other Books which he
is selling on a joint-stock basis, the poor man likewise promises
something, though as yet, ever since New-Year's-day, I cannot
learn what, owing to a grievous sickness of his,--for which
otherwise I cannot but be sorry, poor Fraser within the Cockney
limits being really a worthy, accurate, and rather friendly
creature. So you see me here provided with bread and water for a
season,--it is but for a season one needs either water or bread,
--and rejoice with me accordingly. It is the one useful, nay, I
will say the one _innoxious,_ result of all this trumpeting,
reviewing, and dinner-invitationing; from which I feel it
indispensable to withdraw myself more and more resolutely, and
altogether count it as a thing not there. Solitude is what I
long and pray for. In the babble of men my own soul goes all to
babble: like soil you were forever _screening,_ tumbling over
with shovels and riddles; in _which_ soil no fruit can grow! My
trust in Heaven is, I shall yet get awa