everything which we learn in the course of our lives. It is a good thing to know Latin and Greek; but he who knows no more is an ignorant man. A good painter, if deprived of his brushes, would paint with the ends of his fingers rather than forego his favourite pursuits; and an author of genius will write something worth reading under the most unfavourable circumstances. An author has many delightful moments in his hours of composition. When he describes a scene, it may appear to the reader to be done at random; whereas, in reality, it is drawn from some spot dear to his memory. The cottage he sketches has been visited in his boyhood; the tree he describes has been climbed by him in the days of his youth. When he draws his characters, they appear to be taken without care from the crowd: no such thing! in them he represents some talented friend, dear to his affections; holds up to imitation some virtuous and benevolent acquaintance, or reproves some heartless booby, who is unconscious of his ignorance, and who prides himself upon his obstinacy. Thus he has a source of enjoyment unknown to others. If the world laughs at him, he laughs at the world; if mankind pity him, he too pities mankind. Many authors are, and all ought to be, virtuous; and the very employment of contributing to the edification and happiness of others is a great luxury. But they are not without their trials. In the midst of their most benevolent plans, their brightest descriptions, their highest sublimities, they must eat and drink, and provide for the common wants and necessities of human beings. Oh that the wretched rolls and red-herrings of the world G should have power to drag down a spirit to earth, when it is soaring amidst the clouds ! If you have ever put so great a weight to the end of your kite-tail, that, in spite of every effort, your kite could not mount into the air, then you can imagine the state of an aspiring author weighed down by poverty. Perhaps you may have laughed at the sketch of an author sitting, in a moment of sublimity, in a fireless garret, on a backless chair, with a nightcap on his head, and slippers on his feet. If you have not, I have, and afterwards looked with pity on the slender clothes, the wasted form, and the thin visage of the poet. There are thousands of such beings in the world. An author, when he has written a book, is just in the same situation as he was before he began it he can neither eat it nor drink it; and some : times he has but one friend in the wide world to assist him. That friend is neither a duke, nor a lord, nor an acquaintance. No; his best friend and his best patron is his publisher. It may be said that publishers cannot do without authors, and I am very glad of it; but what a pretty figure an author would cut without a publisher. Authors are not often rich: some have never known riches, and others have found that "riches make to themselves wings, and fly away;" but whether error, folly, or misfortune has made them poor, they are pretty sure to make the best use of their wits, because their very existence depends upon their doing so. He who can swim, never swims so effectually as when he swims to save himself from drowning; and an author's wit is never keener than when it is providing for a keen appetite. You have written in your copy-book, no doubt, the copy," Necessity is the mother of invention;" and so it is; ay, and the father of it too! Give an author five hundred a-year, and you will cure him of all his wit; his poetry will become prose, and his prose will be so dull that no one will be able to discern its merit but himself. A publisher has his enjoyments; for, if a work sells well, he gets money very fast; and if he properly caters for the amusement and edification of mankind, in bringing out interesting works, he has a secret satisfaction in increasing the common stock of human happiness, which he well de serves. ments. But he has his trials and his disappointSometimes the authors he employs write the begininng of their works well, and fall off at the end: this is vexatious to him. Sometimes the work which he felt sure would be a favourite |