See how I have strayed! and you'll not wonder when you reflect on the whence and the whither.
ALEXANDER KNOX.
Well dear Reader, I have answered your question concerning the great Decasyllabon. I have answered it fairly and explicitly, not like those Jesuitical casuists
That palter with us in a double sense,
That keep the word of promise to our ear
And break it to our hope.
You have received an answer as full and satisfactory as you could expect or desire, and yet the more than cabalistic mysteries of the word are still concealed with Eleusinean secresy. Enough of this. For the present also we will drop the subject which was broken off by the extraordinary circumstances that called forth our Chapter Extraordinary.
τὸ δε και τετελεσμένον ἔσται,1
for awhile, however, it will be convenient to leave it unfinished, and putting an end to the parenthesis in the most important part of the Doctor's life, tell thee that the Interim is past, that in the month of April 1761, he brought home his bride, and the bells of St. George rang that peal,—that memorable peal which was anticipatively mentioned in the 32d chapter. Many such peals have they rung since on similar occasions, but they have rung their last from St. George's Tower, for in 1836, it was thought necessary to remove them, lest they should bring that fine old fabric down.
1 HOMER.
Webster libelled the most exhilarating and the most affecting of all measured sounds when he said