the confession was only one element in the scheme of fraud. Old
Samuel was the Fagin of a band of young literary Dodgers. He
"positively trained his whole family to trade in forgery," and as
for Mr. W. H. Ireland, he was "the most accomplished liar that ever
lived," which is certainly a distinction in its way. The point of
the joke is that, after the whole conspiracy exploded, people were
anxious to buy examples of the forgeries. Mr. W. H. Ireland was
equal to the occasion. He actually forged his own, or (according to
Dr. Ingleby) his father's forgeries, and, by thus increasing the
supply, he deluged the market with sham shams, with imitations of
imitations. If this accusation be correct, it is impossible not to
admire the colossal impudence of Mr. W. H. Ireland. Dr. Ingleby, in
the ardour of his honest indignation, pursues William into his
private life, which, it appears, was far from exemplary. But
literary criticism should be content with a man's works; his
domestic life is matter, as Aristotle often says, "for a separate
kind of investigation." Old Ritson used to say that "every literary
impostor deserved hanging as much as a common thief." W. H.
Ireland's merits were never recognised by the law.

How old Ritson would have punished "the old corrector," it is
"better only guessing," as the wicked say, according to Clough, in
regard to their own possible chastisement. The difficulty is to
ascertain who the apocryphal old corrector really was. The story of
his misdeeds was recently brought back to mind by the death, at an
advanced age, of the learned Shakespearian, Mr. J. Payne Collier.
Mr. Collier was, to put it mildly, the Shapira of the old corrector.
He brought that artist's works before the public; but WHY? how
deceived, or how influenced, it is once more "better only guessing."
Mr. Collier first introduced to the public notice his singular copy