_Beatific visions: Irons enough in the fire: Egotism and oratory:
Hints on elocution_


This sudden elevation to fame and fortune, for I had not the smallest
doubt that so it was, this double-election of me, who alone perhaps
had the power to execute such mighty tasks, was more than even I,
sanguine as my expectations had been, could have hoped! To rout
politicians and extirpate heresy, to pull down a minister and become
the buttress of the church, to reform the state and establish the
hierarchy, was indeed a glorious office! Honour and power were
suspended over my head: I had but to cut the thread and they would
drop and crown me.

But which should I choose; to be the pillar of the state, or the head
of the hierarchy? a prime minister, or an archbishop? The question was
embarrassing, and it was not quite pleasant that I could not be both.

I did not however forget that I had first some few labours to perform;
to which therefore, with all my might, I immediately applied. My busy
brain had now fit employment, politics and divinity; but was puzzled
with which to begin. The table at which I wrote was richly strewed
with invectives, now hurled at state profligacy, now thundered against
the non-conforming crew. It was my determination to spare neither
friend nor foe. I often remembered the Zoilus Turl, and his heretical
opinions; and was ready to exclaim, in the language of the patient
Job, 'Oh that his words were now written! Oh that they were printed in
a book!' The dictatorial spirit of his reproof, for so I characterised
it, had wounded me deeply; and, though I was not depraved enough to
feel rancour, I ardently wished for the means to come, pen in hand,