in this form, and when it had only a newspaper life.  Some of the other lyrics have power of a less questionable sort.  For the author, I do not know him at all—­never heard from him nor wrote to him—­and in my opinion, there is more faculty shown in the account of that horrible mesmeric experience (mad or not mad) than in his poems.  Now do read it from the beginning to the end.  That ‘going out’ of the hectic, struck me very much ... and the writhing away of the upper lip.  Most horrible!—­Then I believe so much of mesmerism, as to give room for the full acting of the story on me ... without absolutely giving full credence to it, understand.

Ever dearest, you could not think me in earnest in that letter?  It was because I understood you so perfectly that I felt at liberty for the jesting a little—­for had I not thought of that before, myself, and was I not reproved for speaking of it, when I said that I was content, for my part, even so?  Surely you remember—­and I should not have said it if I had not felt with you, felt and known, that ’there is, with us, less for the future to give or take away than in the ordinary cases.’  So much less!  All the happiness I have known has come to me through you, and it is enough to live for or die in—­therefore living or dying I would thank God, and use that word ‘enough’ ... being yours in life and death.  And always understanding that if either of us should go, you must let it be this one here who was nearly gone when she knew you, since I could not bear—­

Now see if it is possible to write on this subject, unless one laughs to stop the tears.  I was more wise on Friday.

Let me tell you instead of my sister’s affairs, which are so publicly talked of in this house that there is no confidence to be broken in respect to them—­yet my brothers only see and hear, and are told nothing, to keep them as clear as possible from responsibility.  I may say of Henrietta that her only fault is, her virtues being written in water—­I know not of one other fault.  She has too much softness to be able to say ‘no’ in the right place—­and thus, without the slightest levity ... perfectly blameless in that respect, ... she says half a yes or a quarter of a yes, or a yes in some sort of form, too often—­but I will tell you.  Two years ago, three men were loving her, as they called it.  After a few months, and the proper quantity of interpretations, one of them consoled himself by giving nick-names to his rivals.  Perseverance and Despair he called them, and so, went up to the boxes to see out the rest of the play.  Despair ran to a crisis, was rejected in so many words, but appealed against the judgment and had his claim admitted—­it was all silence and mildness on each side ... a tacit gaining of ground,—­Despair ‘was at least a gentleman,’ said my brothers.  On which Perseverance came on with violent re-iterations,—­insisted that she loved him without knowing it, or should—­elbowed