Thus, also, do authors beget authors, and having
produced a numerous progeny, in a good old age they sleep with
their fathers, that is to say, with the authors who preceded
them--and from whom they had stolen.
Whilst I was indulging in these rambling fancies I had leaned my
head against a pile of reverend folios. Whether it was owing to
the soporific emanations for these works; or to the profound
quiet of the room; or to the lassitude arising from much
wandering; or to an unlucky habit of napping at improper times
and places, with which I am grievously afflicted, so it was, that
I fell into a doze. Still, however, my imagination continued
busy, and indeed the same scene continued before my mind's eye,
only a little changed in some of the details. I dreamt that the
chamber was still decorated with the portraits of ancient
authors, but that the number was increased. The long tables had
disappeared, and, in place of the sage magi, I beheld a ragged,
threadbare throng, such as may be seen plying about the great
repository of cast-off clothes, Monmouth Street. Whenever they
seized upon a book, by one of those incongruities common to
dreams, methought it turned into a garment of foreign or antique
fashion, with which they proceeded to equip themselves.
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