1831.] " Liberal Notions." 513 



of money-getting. But, however, I must not complain; I do now and 

 then feel a little inconvenience for want of a dinner, and a little mortifi- 

 cation for want of a clean shirt and a whole coat. — Still I have retained 

 my independence and my liberal notions of men and things. And what 

 is life without liberality of sentiment? Oh, I despise the vulgar, every- 

 day, common -place people that pass you by shoals in the public streets, 

 elbowing their way along, and looking so greedily and avariciously, as 

 if they were born merely to gather together sordid pelf and filthy 

 lucre. They despise my threadbare coat and greasy hat, they look con- 

 temptibly on my old brown black trousers, and think foul scorn of my 

 gaping shoes ; but they do not see my mind — they know nothing of the 

 towering genius that dwells within. They do not know that the man 

 whom they despise is a man who despises them. I have often thought 

 of illuminating the world on the subject of things in general, and of giving 

 thern new views of religion, politics, and society ; but those mean and 

 sordid booksellers, one and all, set their faces against every thing that is 

 liberal. They talk about the march of intellect, but they do not care a 

 % for intellect. They merely print and pubhsh just for what they can 

 get. They have no sympathy with the towering aspirations of mind. 

 I had a most excellent design for a work, that should convince all man- 

 kind that they were a pack of fools, and that should produce such a glo- 

 rious change in the constitution of society, that talent and liberality 

 should reign triumphant ; I communicated my design to a publisher, 

 and what was his answer > Blush, Britain, blush for the meanness of thy 

 intellectual tradesmen! "I don't think it will sell," said the fellow. 

 '' Why then," said I, " give it away." The man stared at me, and said, 

 " What shall I get by that.?" There, gentle reader, there is a specimen 

 of the sordidness of booksellers. " What shall I get ?" When I see 

 such narrowness of soul, and such degradation of mind, my heart bleeds 

 for humanity, and I almost blush to call such wretches my fellow-crea- 

 tures. I must confess that this interview had such an effect upon my 

 nerves — I do not know what my nerves are, but I know that they were 

 shocked ;— it had such an effect, I say, that for a long while I could not 

 apply to another publisher ; but at length I did, and to another, and an- 

 other. They were all in the same story, just as if they had conspired 

 together to thwart my views for the welfare of the human race. I will 

 not mention names, for I do not wish to hold them up to the contempt 

 and derision of mankind. I am sorry to say that their meanness has 

 compelled me to have recourse to a mode of instructing the public 

 which I should not have adopted by choice, but to which I am driven by 

 necessity— I allude to inscriptions on walls and stable-doors, by means of 

 a simple instrument called a piece of chalk. But the worst of this mode 

 of public instruction is, that there is not room enough for an elaborate 

 argument, or even a well-turned period. One is compelled to confine 

 oneself to a certain sententious brevity, which convinces none but those 

 who were convinced before. When I write on a stable-door, " D— n the 

 Bisshups," nobody d — ns them a bit the more for my recommendation. 

 By the way, I cannot help remarking here on the illiberahty of a torified 

 stable-boy, who reading one of my inscriptions found fault with the 

 spellinjtr. Foul ! I have forgot more sjjclling than lie ever learnt. How 

 exceedingly captious and illiberal is it, when no other fault is to be found 

 with a literary jjroduction to find fault witli the sijclling. Besides, what 

 INI.M. NewScric.1.— Vol. XII. N0.7]. 2 T 



