contempt to those latter proofs of strength—­or weakness, as it may be:—­people are not usually praised for giving up their religion, for unsaying their oaths, for desecrating their ’holy things’—­while believing them still to be religious and sacramental!  On the other side I have always and shall always understand how it is possible for the most earnest and faithful of men and even of women perhaps, to err in the convictions of the heart as well as of the mind, to profess an affection which is an illusion, and to recant and retreat loyally at the eleventh hour, on becoming aware of the truth which is in them.  Such men are the truest of men, and the most courageous for the truth’s sake, and instead of blaming them I hold them in honour, for me, and always did and shall.

And while I write, you are ’very ill’—­very ill!—­how it looks, written down so!  When you were gone yesterday and my thoughts had tossed about restlessly for ever so long, I was wise enough to ask Wilson how she thought you were looking, ... and she ‘did not know’ ... she ‘had not observed’ ... ’only certainly Mr. Browning ran up-stairs instead of walking as he did the time before.’

Now promise me dearest, dearest—­not to trifle with your health.  Not to neglect yourself ... not to tire yourself ... and besides to take the advice of your medical friend as to diet and general treatment:—­because there must be a wrong and a right in everything, and the right is very important under your circumstances ... if you have a tendency to illness.  It may be right for you to have wine for instance.  Did you ever try the putting your feet into hot water at night, to prevent the recurrence of the morning headache—­for the affection of the head comes on early in the morning, does it not? just as if the sleeping did you harm.  Now I have heard of such a remedy doing good—­and could it increase the evil?—­mustard mixed with the water, remember.  Everything approaching to congestion is full of fear—­I tremble to think of it—­and I bring no remedy by this teazing neither!  But you will not be ‘wicked’ nor ‘unkind,’ nor provoke the evil consciously—­you will keep quiet and forswear the going out at nights, the excitement and noise of parties, and the worse excitement of composition—­you promise.  If you knew how I keep thinking of you, and at intervals grow so frightened!  Think you, that you are three times as much to me as I can be to you at best and greatest,—­because you are more than three times the larger planet—­and because too, you have known other sources of light and happiness ... but I need not say this—­and I shall hear on Monday, and may trust to you every day ... may I not?  Yet I would trust my soul to you sooner than your own health.

May God bless you, dear, dearest.  If the first part of the ’Soul’s Tragedy’ should be written out, I can read that perhaps, without drawing you in to think of the second.  Still it may be safer to keep off altogether for the present—­and let it be as you incline.  I do not speak of ‘Luria.’