“By casting your eye down almost any page of any book in
      the world, you will be able to perceive at once a host of little
      scraps of either learning or _bel-esprit-ism_, which are the very
      thing for the spicing of a Blackwood article. You might as well
      note down a few while I read them to you. I shall make two
      divisions: first, Piquant Facts for the Manufacture of Similes,
      and, second, Piquant Expressions to be introduced as occasion may
      require. Write now!”—and I wrote as he dictated. “PIQUANT FACTS FOR SIMILES. ‘There were originally but three
      Muses—Melete, Mneme, Aœde—meditation, memory, and singing.’ You
      may make a good deal of that little fact if properly worked. You
      see it is not generally known, and looks _recherché_. You must be
      careful and give the thing with a downright improviso air. “Again. ‘The river Alpheus passed beneath the sea, and emerged
      without injury to the purity of its waters.’ Rather stale that,
      to be sure, but, if properly dressed and dished up, will look
      quite as fresh as ever. “Here is something better. ‘The Persian Iris appears to some
      persons to possess a sweet and very powerful perfume, while to
      others it is perfectly scentless.’ Fine that, and very delicate! Turn it about a little, and it will do wonders. We’ll have some
      thing else in the botanical line. There’s nothing goes down so
      well, especially with the help of a little Latin. Write! “‘_The Epidendrum Flos Aeris_, of Java, bears a very beautiful
      flower, and will live when pulled up by the roots. The natives
      suspend it by a cord from the ceiling, and enjoy its fragrance
      for years.’ That’s capital! That will do for the similes. Now for
      the Piquant Expressions. “PIQUANT EXPRESSIONS. ‘_The Venerable Chinese novel Ju-Kiao-Li_.’
      Good! By introducing these few words with dexterity you will
      evince your intimate acquaintance with the language and
      literature of the Chinese. With the aid of this you may either
      get along without either Arabic, or Sanscrit, or Chickasaw. There
      is no passing muster, however, without Spanish, Italian, German,
      Latin, and Greek. I must look you out a little specimen of each. Any scrap will answer, because you must depend upon your own
      ingenuity to make it fit into your article. Now write! “‘_Aussi tendre que Zaire_’—as tender as Zaire-French. Alludes to
      the frequent repetition of the phrase, _la tendre Zaire_, in the
      French tragedy of that name. Properly introduced, will show not
      only your knowledge of the language, but your general reading and
      wit. You can say, for instance, that the chicken you were eating
      (write an article about being choked to death by a chicken-bone)
      was not altogether _aussi tendre que Zaire_. Write! ‘Van muerte tan escondida,
    Que no te sienta venir,
Porque el plazer del morir,
    No mestorne a dar la vida.’

      “That’s Spanish—from Miguel de Cervantes. ‘Come quickly, O death! but be sure and don’t let me see you coming, lest the pleasure I
      shall feel at your appearance should unfortunately bring me back
      again to life.’ This you may slip in quite a propos when you are
      struggling in the last agonies with the chicken-bone. Write! ‘Il pover ‘huomo che non se’n era accorto,
      Andava combattendo, e era morto.‘

      “That’s Italian, you perceive—from Ariosto. It means that a great
      hero, in the heat of combat, not perceiving that he had been
      fairly killed, continued to fight valiantly, dead as he was. The
      application of this to your own case is obvious—for I trust, Miss
      Psyche, that you will not neglect to kick for at least an hour
      and a half after you have been choked to death by that
      chicken-bone. Please to write! ‘Und sterb’ich doch, no sterb’ich denn
      Durch sie—durch sie!’’

      “That’s German—from Schiller. ‘And if I die, at least I die—for
      thee—for thee!’ Here it is clear that you are apostrophizing the
      cause of your disaster, the chicken. Indeed what gentleman (or
      lady either) of sense, wouldn’t die, I should like to know, for a
      well fattened capon of the right Molucca breed, stuffed with
      capers and mushrooms, and served up in a salad-bowl, with
      orange-jellies _en mosaïques_. Write! (You can get them that way
      at Tortoni’s)—Write, if you please! “Here is a nice little Latin phrase, and rare too, (one can’t be
      too _recherché_ or brief in one’s Latin, it’s getting so
      common—ignoratio elenchi. He has committed an ignoratio
      elenchi—that is to say, he has understood the words of your
      proposition, but not the idea. The man was a fool, you see. Some
      poor fellow whom you address while choking with that
      chicken-bone, and who therefore didn’t precisely understand what
      you were talking about. Throw the ignoratio elenchi in his teeth,
      and, at once, you have him annihilated. If he dares to reply, you
      can tell him from Lucan (here it is) that speeches are mere
      anemonae verborum, anemone words. The anemone, with great
      brilliancy, has no smell. Or, if he begins to bluster, you may be
      down upon him with insomnia Jovis, reveries of Jupiter—a phrase
      which Silius Italicus (see here!) applies to thoughts pompous and
      inflated. This will be sure and cut him to the heart. He can do
      nothing but roll over and die. Will you be kind enough to write? “In Greek we must have some thing pretty—from Demosthenes, for
      example. Ανερο φευων και παλιν μαχεσεται. [Aner o pheugoen kai
      palin makesetai.] There is a tolerably good translation of it in
      Hudibras—

        ‘For he that flies may fight again,
     Which he can never do that’s slain.’

      In a Blackwood article nothing makes so fine a show as your
      Greek. The very letters have an air of profundity about them. Only observe, madam, the astute look of that Epsilon! That Phi
      ought certainly to be a bishop! Was ever there a smarter fellow
      than that Omicron? Just twig that Tau! In short, there is nothing
      like Greek for a genuine sensation-paper. In the present case
      your application is the most obvious thing in the world. Rap out
      the sentence, with a huge oath, and by way of ultimatum at the
      good-for-nothing dunder-headed villain who couldn’t understand
      your plain English in relation to the chicken-bone. He’ll take
      the hint and be off, you may depend upon it.”

      These were all the instructions Mr. B. could afford me upon the
      topic in question, but I felt they would be entirely sufficient. I was, at length, able to write a genuine Blackwood article, and
      determined to do it forthwith.