"So many really capable men get turned out of work because they are old----" "Well, there's one advantage about my profession," interrupted Angus.
"No one can turn _me_ out of literature either for young or old age, if I choose to make a name in it! Think of that, my Mary! The glorious independence of it! An author is a law unto himself, and if he succeeds, he is the master of his own fate.

Publishers are his humble servants--waiting eagerly to snatch up his work that they may get all they can for themselves out of it,--and the public--the great public which, apart from all 'interested' critical bias, delivers its own verdict, is always ready to hearken and to applaud the writer of its choice.

There is no more splendid and enviable life!--if I could only make a hundred pounds a year by it, I would rather be an author than a king! For if one has something in one's soul to say--something that is vital, true, and human as well as divine, the whole world will pause to listen.

Yes, Mary! In all its toil and stress, its scheming for self-advantage, its political changes, its little temporary passing shows of empires and monarchies, the world will stop to hear what the Thinker and the Writer tells it! The words of old Socrates still ring down the ages--the thoughts of Shakespeare are still the basis of English literature!--what a grand life it is to be among the least of one of the writing band! I tell you, Mary, that even if I fail, I shall be proud to have at any rate _tried_ to succeed!" "You will not fail!" she said, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm.

"I shall see you win your triumph!" "Well, if I cannot conquer everything with you by my side, I shall be but a poor and worthless devil!" he answered.