Receive my best thanks for your kindness; before we part, however, I should wish to ask you a question.

Do you think you shall ever grow tired of authorship ?" "I have my fears," said my friend, advancing his hand to one of the iron bars of the gate.
"Don't touch," said I, "it is a bad habit.

I have but one word to add: should you ever grow tired of authorship follow your first idea of getting into Parliament; you have words enough at command; perhaps you want manner and method; but, in that case, you must apply to a teacher, you must take lessons of a master of elocution." "That would never do!" said my host; "I know myself too well to think of applying for assistance to any one.

Were I to become a parliamentary orator, I should wish to be an original one, even if not above mediocrity.

What pleasure should I take in any speech I might make, however original as to thought, provided the gestures I employed and the very modulation of my voice were not my own?
Take lessons, indeed! why, the fellow who taught me, the professor, might be standing in the gallery whilst I spoke; and, at the best parts of my speech, might say to himself, 'That gesture is mine--that modulation is mine.' I could not bear the thought of such a thing." "Farewell," said I, "and may you prosper.