of various great epics and immortal ‘works,’ until in these latter years it has seemed to me too heavy, and I have taken into service, instead of it, another two-inch-long instrument which makes Mr. Kenyon laugh to look at—­and so, my fancy has run upon your having the heavier holder, which is not very heavy after all, and which will make you think of me whether you choose it or not, besides being made of a splinter from the ivory gate of old, and therefore not unworthy of a true prophet.  Will you have it, dearest?  Yes—­because you can’t help it.  When you come ... on Saturday!—­

And for ‘Pauline,’ ...  I am satisfied with the promise to see it some day ... when we are in the isle of the sirens, or ready for wandering in the Doges’ galleries.  I seem to understand that you would really rather wish me not to see it now ... and as long as I do see it!  So that shall be!—­Am I not good now, and not a teazer?  If there is any poetical justice in ‘the seven worlds,’ I shall have a letter to-night.

By the way, you owe me two letters by your confession.  A hundred and four of mine you have, and I, only a hundred and two of yours ... which is a ‘deficit’ scarcely creditable to me, (now is it?) when, according to the law and ordinance, a woman’s hundred and four letters would take two hundred and eight at least, from the other side, to justify them.  Well—­I feel inclined to wring out the legal per centage to the uttermost farthing; but fall into a fit of gratitude, notwithstanding, thinking of Monday, and how the second letter came beyond hope.  Always better, you are, than I guess you to be,—­and it was being best, to write, as you did, for me to hear twice on one day!—­best and dearest!

But the first letter was not what you feared—­I know you too well not to know how that letter was written and with what intention. Do you, on the other hand, endeavour to comprehend how there may be an eccentricity and obliquity in certain relations and on certain subjects, while the general character stands up worthily of esteem and regard—­even of yours.  Mr. Kenyon says broadly that it is monomania—­neither more nor less.  Then the principle of passive filial obedience is held—­drawn (and quartered) from Scripture.  He sees the law and the gospel on his side.  Only the other day, there was a setting forth of the whole doctrine, I hear, down-stairs—­’passive obedience, and particularly in respect to marriage.’  One after the other, my brothers all walked out of the room, and there was left for sole auditor, Captain Surtees Cook, who had especial reasons for sitting it out against his will,—­so he sate and asked ’if children were to be considered slaves’ as meekly as if he were asking for information.  I could not help smiling when I heard of it.  He is just succeeding in obtaining what is called an ‘adjutancy,’ which, with the half pay, will put an end to many anxieties.