Think well before
you reject me, Mr. PUNCH--think well, and at least listen to what I have to
say.
It is this: I am not wishing any longer to come forward with tragedies,
epics, essays, or original compositions. I am old now--morose in temper,
troubled with poverty, jaundice, imprisonment, and habitual indigestion. I
hate everybody, and, with the exception of gin-and-water, everything. I
know every language, both in the known and unknown worlds; I am profoundly
ignorant of history, or indeed of any other useful science, but have a
smattering of all. I am excellently qualified to judge and lash the vices
of the age, having experienced, I may almost say, every one of them in my
own person. The immortal and immoral Goethe, that celebrated sage of
Germany, has made exactly the same confession.
I have a few and curious collection of Latin and Greek quotations.
And what is the result I draw from this? This simple one--that, of all men
living, I am the most qualified to be a CRITIC, and hereby offer myself to
your notice in that capacity.
Recollect, I am always at Home--Fleet Prison, Letter L, fourth staircase,
paupers'-ward--for a guinea, and a bottle of Hodges' Cordial, I will do
anything.
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