Partly for this reason, and partly (he has since often grieved to
think) for the pleasure it afforded him to find that delightful
manner reproducing itself under his hand, he yielded to the
temptation of too often making the character SPEAK like his old
friend. He no more thought, God forgive him! that the admired
original would ever be charged with the imaginary vices of the
fictitious creature, than he has himself ever thought of charging
the blood of Desdemona and Othello, on the innocent Academy model
who sat for Iago's leg in the picture. Even as to the mere
occasional manner, he meant to be so cautious and conscientious,
that he privately referred the proof sheets of the first number of
that book to two intimate literary friends of Leigh Hunt (both still
living), and altered the whole of that part of the text on their
discovering too strong a resemblance to his "way".

He cannot see the son lay this wreath on the father's tomb, and
leave him to the possibility of ever thinking that the present words
might have righted the father's memory and were left unwritten. He
cannot know that his own son may have to explain his father when
folly or malice can wound his heart no more, and leave this task
undone.



THE TATTLESNIVEL BLEATER



The pen is taken in hand on the present occasion, by a private
individual (not wholly unaccustomed to literary composition), for