I shall therefore merely say that I look upon your chapter upon Immortality, not only as a most exquisite specimen of fine, sound, and learned composition, but as combating in the most satisfactory manner the _wisdom_ of infidelity, almost perfect.

I only hope that you may receive the just tribute of the literary community: your own feelings as the author of that chapter must be very enviable.
God bless you, dearest, dearest Martin .-- Believe me, ever your affectionate father and sincere friend, Martin Tupper." I need not say that these are "_ipsissima verba_," and that I here insert the letter in full, as the warmest and most honourable palinode I could have received from a man so usually reserved and reticent as was my revered and excellent father.
* * * * * The brother of my friend Benjamin Nightingale (to be more spoken of hereafter) was so fascinated with the book that he copied it all out in his own handwriting, word for word, and was jocularly accused of pretending to its authorship.

I once met an enthusiast who knew both the two first series by heart,--and certainly he went on wherever I tried to pose him from the open volume,--my own memory being far less faithful.
Similarly my more recent friend William Hawkes claims to have read the whole book sixty times; whereof this impromptu of mine is a sort of half proof:-- _Impromptu_.
"Sixty times, you tell me, friend, You've read my books from end to end.
Perhaps not all my myriad rhymes, But all my rhythmics sixty times.
Yes, friend, for I have heard you quote My old Proverbials by rote Page after page, and anywhere Have heard you spout them then and there, Though I myself had quite forgot What I had writ, and you had not.
"Well, author surely never more Was complimented so before; For though I knew in years long past An amiable enthusiast, Who copied out in his MS.
My whole Proverbial, as for press, Until he half believed that he Was the real Simon M.F.T.,-- Yet thou, my worthy William Hawkes, Hast beaten Nightingale by chalks,-- And, years ago, your friends for fame Have given you Martin Tapper's name, Because you constantly were heard Quoting Proverbial word for word! So then, by heart, as by the pen, 'I live upon the mouths of men,' Ev'n as Ennius lived of old, A life worth more than gems or gold." Two more strange anecdotes may here find their place (others will occur elsewhere in this volume hereafter) respecting "Proverbial Philosophy." Joseph Durham, the sculptor, a great friend of mine, had been known to me for some years, and one day he gave me a curious little book, very ancient and dingy-looking, entitled "Politeuphuia, Wits' Commonwealth: London, 1667;" with this explanation, that he had picked it up at an old bookstall, and, finding it was written somewhat in proverbs gave it to me, adding, in his shrewd way, the humorous fancy that (until he had read it and couldn't discover a line or thought of exact similarity) possibly he might have checkmated me by showing me the mine from which I had dug my wisdoms! As I have before me a memorandum pasted into the booklet itself (it is a minute duodecimo) I will here quote exactly what I wrote in it at the time: the date being Albury House, May 24, 1865:-- "This little book has just been given to me by Durham; it is very scarce, so much so that the British Museum, he says, does not possess a copy; probably there are not six in the world.

I never saw it, nor heard of it till now; just twenty-nine years after the publication of my Proverbial Philosophy.

It is a curious coincidence that the headings of this Wits' Miscellany are similar to my own; as Of so and so throughout; I first wrote On so and so; but did not like the sound, and remembering it would be De in Latin, altered it to Of.