270 My Inabilities. [Sept. 



" most obedient, faithful, humble servant." But here is the difference. 

 Snip, it is a himdred to one, really believes that his grace does feel it an 

 " honour," however ranch he may be puzzled with the condescension of 

 the feeling, or struck by the dignified humility of calling himself his 

 (Snip's) " very obedient hunlble servant," to the sincerity of which declar- 

 ation he sees his grace's name " faithfully" pledged. But when some 

 members of the House of Commons call other members of the House of 

 Commons " honourable," they are in the predicament of Johnson's 

 shrewd distinction of the degrees of mendacity, " they He, and they 

 know they lie ;" with this uncomfortable adcUtion, that all who hear, and 

 all who read, what they say, know it too. 



I HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND what is the USe of 



writing so many books as are published every year. It cannot be said 

 that it is to supply the increased and increasing number of readers, 

 because it is very well known to publishers and authors that very few of 

 the works which are written are ever read at all ; while surely a much 

 less expensive mode of providing trunk-makers, pastry-cooks, and cheese- 

 mongers Avith waste paper, might easily be hit upon. I should think 

 lawyers' letters, and barristers' briefs, for example, if carefully preserved, 

 would always be more tlian sufficient for those purposes. Be that as it 

 may, liowever, there can be no fear of a dearth of waste paper for many 

 years to come, were there no other to be had, than the reams of 

 SECURITIES which were made during the bubble mania, to say nothing 

 of the prospectuses. These are as good as ever they were, and better 

 without the " securities" than with them ; for, in the former case, they 

 are like a bill of exchange or a promissory note, with a long time to run ; 

 but with the securities tacked to them, they look like the same bill of 

 exchange after it has been noted for non-payment. With regard to 

 curling paper for young ladies who wear their own hair, if all the print- 

 ing presses in England Avere stoj)ped for the next century, there are 

 enough of poems, novels, romances, travels, and reminiscences, waiting to 

 be torn up, for all the tresses of all the heads that shall need them during 

 that space ; and as to the old ladies, their wigs and mohair fronts, curl 

 naturally. I saw it stated lately, that the new catalogue of the British 

 INIuseum would extend to fifteen quarto volumes ! The catalogue alone ! 

 The catalogue of only one library ! Upon a moderate computation we 

 iTiay calculate that each volume will contain the names of three thousand 

 books; so here we have FIVE AND FORTY thousand volumes, and yet 

 we go on writing and publishing. It follows, that reading, not thinking, 

 must be the business of an author. Two hundred years ago, a man 

 might hope to read all that was expected to be read by an industrious 

 scholar, by the time he w'as thirty ; but now, if a man could live to be 

 two hundred years old, and ne'er so industrious, he could not reckon 

 upon the same result. Either every thing has been said that can be 

 said, and therefore a new book is, after all, nothing more than a new 

 edition of an old one ; or a man's life must be employed to find out what 

 has not been said already, and then, he is readj'^ for his coffin by the time 

 he has ascertained that he has something original to publish. What is 

 to be the lot of future scholars, I cannot pretend to foretell ; but I sup- 

 pose, as extremes are said to meet, the consequence of there being more 

 books than can be read, will'assimilate itself to that of there being no 

 books to be read ; and so, nobody will read. When these fifteen volumes 



