the ardour of making innumerable other Janes and delicate relatives happier and wiser—­who knows but as many as Burns did, and does, so make happier and wiser?  Only, his quarry and after-solace was that ’marble bowl often replenished with whiskey’ on which Dr. Curry discourses mournfully, ’Oh, be wiser Thou!’—­and remember it was only after Lord Bacon had written to an end his Book—­given us for ever the Art of Inventing—­whether steam-engine or improved dust-pan—­that he took on himself to do a little exemplary ‘hand work’; got out on that cold St. Alban’s road to stuff a fowl with snow and so keep it fresh, and got into his bed and died of the cold in his hands (’strenuous hand work’—­) before the snow had time to melt.  He did not begin in his youth by saying—­’I have a horror of merely writing ‘Novum Organums’ and shall give half my energies to the stuffing fowls’!

All this it is my amusement, of an indifferent kind, to put down solely on the pleasant assurance contained in that postscript, of the one way of never quarrelling with Miss M.—­’by joining in her plan and practice of plain speaking’—­could she but ‘get people to do it!’ Well, she gets me for a beginner:  the funny thing would be to know what Chorley’s desperate utterance amounted to!  Did you ever hear of the plain speaking of some of the continental lottery-projectors?  An estate on the Rhine, for instance, is to be disposed of, and the holder of the lucky ticket will find himself suddenly owner of a mediaeval castle with an unlimited number of dependencies—­vineyards, woods, pastures, and so forth—­all only waiting the new master’s arrival—­while inside, all is swept and garnished (not to say, varnished)—­the tables are spread, the wines on the board, all is ready for the reception but ... here ‘plain speaking’ becomes necessary—­it prevents quarrels, and, could the projector get people to practise it as he does all would be well; so he, at least, will speak plainly—­you hear what is provided but, he cannot, dares not withhold what is not—­there is then, to speak plainly,—­no night cap!  You will have to bring your own night cap.  The projector furnishes somewhat, as you hear, but not all—­and now—­the worst is heard,—­will you quarrel with him?  Will my own dear, dearest Ba please and help me here, and fancy Chorley’s concessions, and tributes, and recognitions, and then, at the very end, the ‘plain words,’ to counterbalance all, that have been to overlook and pardon?

Oh, my own Ba, hear my plain speech—­and how this is not an attempt to frighten you out of your dear wish to ’hear from me’—­no, indeed—­but a whim, a caprice,—­and now it is out! over, done with!  And now I am with you again—­it is to you I shall write next.  Bless you, ever—­my beloved.  I am much better, indeed—­and mean to be well.  And you!  But I will write—­this goes for nothing—­or only this, that I am your very own—­