Such a thing may have occurred to you, sir, though it happens very seldom in one life.

If so, you will know how to forgive me." "I scarcely dare ask--or rather I would say"-- stammered the anxious poet--"that I cannot expect you to tell me the name of the fortunate writer who has moved you so." "Would to Heaven that I could!" exclaimed the other.

"But this great poet has withheld his name--all great poets are always modest--but it cannot long remain unknown.

Such grandeur of conception and force of language, combined with such gifts of melody, must produce universal demand to know the name of this benefactor.

I cannot express myself as I would desire, because I have been brought up in France, where literature is so different, and people judge a work more liberally, without recourse to politics.