It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudene never to practise either of them,--Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.
F ROM DIARY:
Mr. G. called. I had not seen him since Nauheim, Germany--several years ago; the time that the cholera broke out at Hamburg. We talked of the people we had known there, or had casually met; and G. said:
"Do you remember my introducing you to an earl--the Earl of C.?"
"Yes. That was the last time I saw you. You and he were in a carriage, just starting--belated-- for the train. I remember it."
"I remember it too, because of a thing which happened then which I was not looking for. He had told me awhile before about a remarkable and interesting Californian whom he had met and who was a friend of yours, and said that if he should ever meet you he would ask you for some particulars about that Californian. The subject was not mentioned that day at Nauheim, for we were hurrying away, and there was no time; but the thing that surprised me was this: when I introduced you, you said, 'I am glad to meet your lordship--again.' The 'again' was the surprise. He is a little hard