What he saw, of course I must not say; for if I did the reviewers would declare, as usual, one and all, that I copied out of the Morning Chronicle; and the fact that these pages, ninety-nine hundredths of them at least, were written two years before the Morning Chronicle began its invaluable investigations, would be contemptuously put aside as at once impossible and arrogant.

I shall therefore only say, that he saw what every one else has seen, at least heard of, and got tired of hearing--though alas! they have not got tired of seeing it; and so proceed with my story, only mentioning therein certain particulars which folks seem, to me, somewhat strangely, to have generally overlooked.
But whatever Lancelot saw, or thought he saw, I cannot say that it brought him any nearer to a solution of the question; and he at last ended by a sulky acquiescence in Sam Weller's memorable dictum: 'Who it is I can't say; but all I can say is that SOMEBODY ought to be wopped for this!' But one day, turning over, as hopelessly as he was beginning to turn over everything else, a new work of Mr.Carlyle's, he fell on some such words as these:-- 'The beginning and the end of what is the matter with us in these days is--that WE HAVE FORGOTTEN GOD.' Forgotten God?
That was at least a defect of which blue books had taken no note.

And it was one which, on the whole--granting, for the sake of argument, any real, living, or practical existence to That Being, might be a radical one--it brought him many hours of thought, that saying; and when they were over, he rose up and went to find--Tregarva.
'Yes, he is the man.

He is the only man with whom I have ever met, of whom I could be sure, that independent of his own interest, without the allurements of respectability and decency, of habit and custom, he believes in God.

And he too is a poor man; he has known the struggles, temptations, sorrows of the poor.