It lies wholly in the hand-writing." "Possible, sir ?" "Yes; highly probable even.

No great man ever yet wrote legibly, and I hold that such a thing is conclusive evidence of a narrowness of intellect.

Great men uniformly use a species of scrawl which people have to study, sir, before they can understand.

Like the Oracles of Delphos, the manuscript is mysterious because it is profound.

My own belief, sir, is, that Homer's manuscript--if he had one, which I doubt--resembled a sheet of paper over which a fly with inked feet has crawled;--and you may imagine, sir, the respect, and, I may add, the labor, of the old Greek type-setters in publishing the first edition of the Iliad." This dissertation had the effect of diverting Mr.Roundjacket's mind temporarily from his affliction; but his grief soon returned in full force again.
"To think it!" he cried, flourishing his ruler, and ready to weep,--"to think that after taking all the trouble to disguise my clear running hand, and write as became an author of my standing--in hieroglyphics--to think that this should be the result of all my trouble." Roundjacket sniffed.
"Don't be sorry," said Verty.
"I cannot refrain, sir," said Roundjacket, in a tone of acute agony; "it is more than I can bear.