thinks he can write, even if he be imperfectly acquainted with spelling. Education now is as common, as general, as pocket-handkerchiefs. Both were luxuries fifty years ago. Literature is glutted with aspirants; brain is as common as æsthetic colours, as embroidered sunflowers, and Japanese lacquer. What is rare is muscle. Learn some mechanical art, and you will find biceps pay better than brain."
"You know very well I have not the health to adopt the trade of an artisan."
"Then become a preacher; and here let me give you advice. If you want to become a popular preacher, and a power in the pulpit or on the platform, tear down. It is thankless work to build up; that takes time, demands patience, and does not command immediate popularity and ready applause. You appeal to no passion when constructive. Passion is your assistant in destruction. Every man has so much of the savage in him that he likes the war-path and the taste of blood. You appeal to what you know is in all, when you give a war-whoop, and brandish a tomahawk. There is some picturesqueness and a sense of power, in whooping and whirling the axe; there is only prose in smoking calumets of peace."
"I have no fancy for the pulpit; but I should like to become a political speaker."
"We can try you at some village meeting; but the pay is not much. Take my advice and return to Orleigh."
"That is impossible. I have burnt my ships. I can never recross the threshold of the house till I am recognised."
"What—as a literary lion? As a stump orator?"
"No, uncle, as Lord Lamerton's son."
"As—as his—what?"
Mr. James Welsh burst into a fit of laughter, and when he was exhausted, exploded, in spite of exhaustion, into a second peal.
