"Then, sir, I must give up business altogether. Sir, I have a great respect for the goddess Reason--an infinite respect, sir; indeed, in my time, I have made a great many sacrifices for her; but, sir, I cannot altogether ruin myself for the goddess Reason. Sir, I am a friend to Liberty, as is well known; but I must also be a friend to my own family. It is with the view of providing for a son of mine that I am about to start the Review of which I was speaking. He has taken it into his head to marry, sir, and I must do something for him, for he can do but little for himself. Well, sir, I am a friend to Liberty, as I said before, and likewise a friend to Reason; but I tell you frankly that the Review which I intend to get up under the rose, and present him with when it is established, will be conducted on Oxford principles." {190} "Orthodox principles, I suppose you mean, sir?" "I do, sir; I am no linguist, but I believe the words are synonymous." Much more conversation passed between us, and it was agreed that I should become a contributor to the Oxford Review. I stipulated, however, that, as I knew little of politics, and cared less, no other articles should be required from me than such as were connected with belles-lettres and philology; to this the big man readily assented. "Nothing will be required from you," said he, "but what you mention; and now and then, perhaps, a paper on metaphysics. You understand German, and perhaps it would be desirable that you should review Kant; and in a review of Kant, sir, you could introduce to advantage your peculiar notions about _ex nihilo_." He then reverted to the subject of the _Dairyman's Daughter_, which I promised to take into consideration. As I was going away, he invited me to dine with him on the ensuing Sunday. "That's a strange man!" said I to myself, after I had left the house, "he is evidently very clever; but I cannot say that I like him much, with his Oxford Reviews and Dairyman's Daughters. But what can I do? I am almost without a friend in the world. I wish I could find some one who would publish my ballads, or my songs of Ab Gwilym. In spite of what the big man says, I am convinced that, once published, they would bring me much fame and profit. But how is this?--what a beautiful sun!--the porter was right in saying that the day would clear up--I will now go to my dingy lodging, lock up my manuscripts and then take a stroll about the big city." CHAPTER XXXI.