tz's speech verbatim." "Why not?" said I. "Why, my
dear fellow, no printing office in the world would have capital I's
enough."

I have spoken of his dislike to adverse criticism. No one, now, can
imagine how he would rage and fume if any newspaper dared to doubt the
wisdom of any remark of his. Why, he nearly killed poor Chidlow, the
bookseller; shaking him almost to pieces for merely selling a paper
in which he was severely criticised. While as for _The Birmingham
Journal_, no red rag ever fluttered in the eyes of a furious bull
ever caused more rage than the sight of that paper did to Muntz. That
_they_ should dare to doubt _his_ infallibility was a deadly crime and
an unpardonable sin.

In opposition to this paper, Muntz started a paper of his own, _The
Birmingham Mercury_, by which he lost a good deal of money, and did
little good. The debts in connection with this newspaper were not paid
until after his death.

He certainly was a psychical curiosity, and his ways were "past
finding out." He was bold and fearless physically, but there his
courage ended. He avowed himself to be a Republican, yet he was an
innate aristocrat. He was always declaiming against despotism and
tyranny in the abstract, yet he was domineering and arbitrary in his
household, in his family, and in his business. He affected primitive
simplicity, yet was one of the vainest of men. In fact, his whole
nature was a living contradiction.

About the year 1852 he lost, by death, his youngest daughter, to whom
he had been devotedly attached. This was a severe blow to him, and
from this time the robust physical frame began to exhibit tokens of
decay. His hair became gray, and streaks of silver were seen in his
magnificent beard. At the election in March, 1857, it was observed
that he had greatly changed. He continued to attend the House of
Commons until the end of May, when he was somewhat suddenly taken
severely ill. It was discovered by the medical attendants that
internal tumours, of an alarming nature, had formed, and from this
moment his recovery seemed hopeless. He bore his illness with great
firmness, although his weakness became pitiable, and the fine frame
diminished to a mere skeleton. He became at length unconscious, and on
the 30th of July, 1857, he quietly passed away in the presence of his
family.

The disposition of his vast wealth was marked by great eccentricity.
His will, when published, caused much adverse criticism, and
uncom