he has paid his penny to Charon, and his passport to immortality has been
duly examined by the customhouse officers of Styx! When one half the
world drag forth that same next-door neighbour, place him on a pedestal,
and have him cried, "Oyez! Oyez! Found a man of genius! Public
property! open to inspection!" does not the other half the world put on
its spectacles, turn up its nose, and cry, "That a man of genius, indeed!
Pelt him!--pelt him!" Then of course there is a clatter, what the vulgar
call "a shindy," round the pedestal. Squeezed by his believers, shied at
by his scoffers, the poor man gets horribly mauled about, and drops from
the perch in the midst of the row. Then they shovel him over, clap a
great stone on his relics, wipe their foreheads, shake hands, compromise
the dispute, the one half the world admitting that though he was a genius
he was still an ordinary man; the other half allowing that though he was
an ordinary man he was still a genius. And so on to the next pedestal
with its "Hic stet," and the next great stone with its "Hic jacet."

The manager of the Grand Theatrical Exhibition gazed on the blind sailor,
and did not know him from Adam!




CHAPTER IX.

The aboriginal man-eater, or pocket-cannibal, is susceptible of the
refining influences of Civilization. He decorates his lair with the
skins of his victims; he adorns his person with the spoils of those
whom he devours. Mr. Losely, introduced to Mr. Poole's friends,
dresses for dinner; and, combining elegance with appetite, eats them
up.