I congratulated myself on having been refused accommodation at
the "George and Dragon," and was more than satisfied to pass
an evening without a book, sitting there alone listening to an
imaginary conversation between those two curious friends.
"Lord Carnarvon," says Cobbett, "told a man, in 1820, that he
did not like my politics. But what did he mean by my
politics? I have no politics but such as he ought to like.
To be sure I labour most assiduously to destroy a system of
distress and misery; but is that any reason why a Lord should
dislike my politics? However, dislike them or like them, to
them, to those very politics, the Lords themselves must come
at last."
Undoubtedly he talked like that, just as he wrote and as he
spoke in public, his style, if style it can be called, being
the most simple, direct, and colloquial ever written. And for
this reason, when we are aweary of the style of the stylist,
where the living breathing body becomes of less consequence
than its beautiful clothing, it is a relief, and refreshment,
to turn from the precious and delicate expression, the
implicit word, sought for high and low and at last found, the
balance of every sentence and perfect harmony of the whole
work--to go from it to the simple vigorous unadorned talk of
Rural Rides. A classic, and as incongruous among classics as
a farmer in his smock-frock, leggings, and stout boots would
appear in a company of fine gentlemen in fashionable dress.
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