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Mr Jabberjee makes a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Shakespeare.
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XVI
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I have frequently spoken in the flattering terms of a eulogium concerning my extreme partiality for the writings of Hon'ble William Shakspeare. It has been remarked, with some correctness, that he did not exist for an age, but all the time; and though it is the open question whether he did not derive all his ideas from previous writers, and even whether he wrote so much as a single line of the plays which are attributed to his inspired nib, he is one of the institutions of the country, and it is the correct thing for every orthodox British subject to admire and understand him even when most incomprehensible.
Consequently I did cock-a-hoop for joy on receiving an invitation from my friend Allbutt-Innet, Jun., Esq., on behalf of his parents, that I should accompany them on an excursion by rail to Stratford-upon-Avon, where the said poet had his domicile of origin.
And so great was my enthusiasm that, during the journey, I declaimed, ore rotundo, certain select passages from his works which I had
