CHAPTER XXXIII.
Dine with the publisher--Religions--No animal food--Unprofitable discussions--Principles of criticism--The book market--Newgate lives--Goethe a drug--German acquirements--Moral dignity.
On the Sunday I was punctual to my appointment to dine with the publisher.

As I hurried along the square in which his house stood, my thoughts were fixed so intently on the great man, that I passed by him without seeing him.

He had observed me, however, and joined me just as I was about to knock at the door.

'Let us take a turn in the square,' said he, 'we shall not dine for half an hour.' 'Well,' said he, as we were walking in the square, 'what have you been doing since I last saw you ?' 'I have been looking about London,' said I, 'and I have bought the _Dairyman's Daughter_; here it is.' 'Pray put it up,' said the publisher; 'I don't want to look at such trash.

Well, do you think you could write anything like it ?' 'I do not,' said I.
'How is that ?' said the publisher, looking at me.
'Because,' said I, 'the man who wrote it seems to be perfectly well acquainted with his subject; and, moreover, to write from the heart.' 'By the subject you mean--' 'Religion.' 'And ain't you acquainted with religion ?' 'Very little.' 'I am sorry for that,' said the publisher seriously, 'for he who sets up for an author ought to be acquainted not only with religion, but religions, and indeed with all subjects, like my good friend in the country.