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POSTSCRIPT. ò
never should have been written at all ; and so by
degrees the workman gets to know his errors.
But at last there may come a great giant of a critic,
armed with a brilliant intellectual sword of light, which
makes smaller men quake ; an author in his clutches
feels that he is a small mortal in the presence of a very
big one, that he must resign himself to his fate, and
prepare for the worst. He may be cut up into little
bits or eaten alive, and if so, he is quite sure to dis-
agree with the great man, but he must submit. He
may hope to be as indigestible as Tom Thumb, who
survived being eaten many times ; but he may also
hope to be raised up on the giant's shoulder, thence to
see the world, or to be placed in the rim of his great
hat, like Grimm's tailor, there to walk about in the
sunshine, and admire the prospect. He may be crushed
under the giant's great splay feet, or helped on his
journey by his long legs, but unless some other giant
interferes, or a dwarf shews him a mouse-hole to creep
into, he cannot escape.
But when all is done, giants and great men, pur-
blind and keen-sighted, Grudgeon, Strongback, Bola-
gum Mor, and the rest of the gifted men and genii,
friends and foes, are all working for good, and bringing
stores of knowledge. If they are friendly, the mortal
has need of friends ; if unfriendly, he will, at all events,
learn to keep out of their way ; and if by any chance
they should happen to go by the ears, and fight over
his contemptible little body, he is not worthy to be the
cause of such a fight who cannot pick up something
worth having on the field of battle when the fight is
done.
It would be ungracious not to thank those who
have done me good service, so I thank my reviewers

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