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 did not appear to be in any particular haste. First of all, he
took a pinch of snuff, then, rising from his chair, slowly and
deliberately drew his wig, for he wore a wig of a brown colour, rather
more over his forehead than it had previously been, buttoned his coat,
and, taking his hat, and an umbrella which stood in a corner, made me a
low bow, and quitted the room.

"Well, sir, where were we? Oh, I remember, we were talking about merit.
Sir, I always wish to encourage merit, especially when it comes so highly
recommended as in the present instance. Sir, my good friend and
correspondent speaks of you in the highest terms. Sir, I honour my good
friend, and have the highest respect for his opinion in all matters
connected with literature--rather eccentric though. Sir, my good friend
has done my periodical more good and more harm than all the rest of my
correspondents. Sir, I shall never forget the sensation caused by the
appearance of his article about a certain personage whom he proved--and I
think satisfactorily--to have been a legionary soldier--rather startling,
was it not? The S--- of the world a common soldier, in a marching
regiment--original, but startling; sir, I honour my good friend."

"So you have renounced publishing, sir," said I, "with the exception of
the Magazine?"

"Why, yes; except now and then, under the rose; the old coachman, you
know, likes to hear the whip. Indeed, at the present moment, I am
thinking of starting a Review on an entirely new and original principle;
and it just struck me that you might be of high utility in the
undertak