He had seen nine hundred wild beasts fed with peppered tongue, in a menagerie called L'Assemble' Nationale.
His ears had rung often enough, for that matter. This time his heart beat.
He had been in the principal courts of Europe; knew what a handful of gentlefolks call “the World”; had experienced the honeyed words of courtiers, the misty nothings of diplomatists, and the innocent prattle of mighty kings.
But hitherto he seemed to have undergone gibberish and jargon:
Gibberish and jargon—Political!
Gibberish and jargon—Social!
Gibberish and jargon—Theological!
Gibberish and jargon—Positive!
People had been prating—Jess had spoken.
But, it is to be observed, he was under the double effect of eloquence and novelty; and, so situated, we overrate things, you know.