of course does not establish its fallacy; but I think, had I time, I could convince you of it.  I acted Juliet on Wednesday, and read your analysis of it before doing so.  Oh, could you but have seen and heard my Romeo!...  I am sure it is just as well that an actress on the English stage at the present day should not have too distinct a vision of the beings Shakespeare intended to realize, or she might be induced, like the unfortunate heroine of the song, to “hang herself in her garters.”  To be sure there is always my expedient to resort to, of acting to a wooden vase; you know I had one put upon my balcony, in “Romeo and Juliet,” at Covent Garden, to assist Mr. Abbott in drawing forth the expression of my sentiments.  I have been reading over Portia to-day; she is still my dream of ladies, my pearl of womanhood....  I must close this letter, for I have many more to write to-night, and it is already late.  Once more, thank you very much for your book, and believe me,

Ever yours very truly,
F. A. K.

August 1st.—­Sailed for America.

The book referred to in this letter was Mrs. Jameson’s “Analysis of Shakespeare’s Female Characters,” which she very kindly dedicated to me.  The etching in the title-page was changed from the one she at first intended to have put in it, and represented a female figure in an attitude of despondency, sitting by the sea, and watching a ship sailing toward the setting sun; a design which I know she meant to have reference to my departure.  I believe she subsequently changed it again to the one she had first executed, and which was of a less personal significance....  I exchanged no more letters with my friend Miss S——­, who joined me at Liverpool, and remained with me till I sailed for America....  “A trip,” as it is now called, to Europe or America, is one of the commonest of experiences, involving, apparently, so little danger, difficulty, or delay, that the feelings with which I made my first voyage across the Atlantic must seem almost incomprehensible to the pleasure-seeking or business-absorbed crowds who throng the great watery highway between the two continents.

But when I first went to America, steam had not shortened the passage of that formidable barrier between world and world.  A month, and not a week, was the shortest and most favorable voyage that could be looked for.  Few men, and hardly any women, undertook it as a mere matter of pleasure or curiosity; and though affairs of importance, of course, drew people from one shore to the other, and the stream of emigration had already set steadily westward, American and European tourists had not begun to cross each other by thousands on the high seas in search of health or amusement.