Feeling the nerve of strength, the weakness was masked to him, while his opponents were equally insensible to the weakness under the force of his blows.

Thus there was nothing to teach him, or reveal him, except Time, whose trick is to turn corners of unanticipated sharpness, and leave the directly seeing and ardent to dash at walls.
How rigidly should the man of forethought govern himself, question himself! how constantly wrestle with himself! And if he be a writer ebullient by the hour, how snappishly suspect himself, that he may feel in conscience worthy of a hearing and have perpetually a conscience in his charge! For on what is his forethought founded?
Does he try the ring of it with our changed conditions?
Bus a man of forethought who has to be one of our geysers ebullient by the hour must live days of fever.

His apprehensions distemper his blood; the scrawl of them on the dark of the undeveloped dazzles his brain.

He sees in time little else; his very sincereness twists him awry.

Such a man has the stuff of the born journalist, and journalism is the food of the age.