duly received. I was very glad to get it--for you have greatly, wonderfully improved in your writing. I liked your article extremely, and was so very glad to see the marked improvement....

I am _not_, when I speak of improvement in the art of English composition, alluding solely to the time when you wrote as follows (italics and caps your own):

"Mr. Gatty thinks that Messrs. Fisher & Holmes has sent more than he desired _he said 2s._ or _2s. 6d._ and he thinks there is here more than that he hopes he will answer and tell me what price the LOT is and how many plants I may take for _2s._ or _2s. 6d._ by return of post or by c.o.x which will be better Ecclesfield June 1866."

I wouldn't part with the original of the above under a considerable sum of money! It always refreshes my brain to go back to it--and I laugh as often as one laughs, and re-laughs at Pickwick!--the way the p.r.o.nouns become entangled and after making an imperfectly distinctive stand at "_he said_," jump desperately to the pith of the matter in "what price the LOT is." All difficulties of punctuation being disposed of by the process of omitting stops entirely--like old Hebrew--written without points!

(What an autograph for collectors if ever you're the "King Cole" of Liverpool!)

... I have been staying with M.M. I wish I could impart my mental gleanings. I made several experiments on her intellect. I tried to _pin her_ again and again--but QUITE without success--or (on _her_ part) sense of failure. I tried to remember what she had said afterwards--and I could not succeed. I couldn't carry a single sentence.

Generally speaking I gather that--

"The Kelts are destroying themselves--the Teuton Element MUST prevail--one feels--genius--the thing--Herr Beringer--Dr. Zerffi--but whatever one may FEEL--so it is! Every other nation COMMENCED where we LEAVE OFF. WE BEGAN with the DRAMA and left off with the Epic--Milton's--what-is-it? But there you have Hamlet--where do you find a character like Hamlet?--NOWHERE! That's the beauty of it. The young lady's maid never reads anything--but Macbeth. ANNE I _can_ trust with Faust. I read Lessing myself--and the Greek Testament (not the Epistles--don't let me exaggerate)--with a bit of dry toast and a cup of tea without a saucer or anything. I never sit down till the Easter holidays--before breakfast--I ought to feel--what is it--PROUD. Dr.

Zerffi says he'll show A.B.'s papers at any University against the first-cla.s.s men--and they won't understand a word of them. What were those girls when they came? There's the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset's 15th coz twice removed. _Its all blood._ My father drove four-in-hand down this very hill in the old _coaching_ days (!!!)--and there's not another school in England where the young ladies read Bopp before breakfast. But the Vedas are a mine of--you know what--_Sanskrit_ is _English_--change the letters and I could make myself understood by a Pa.r.s.ee better than by half the young ladies of this establishment. We're all Indians!"

If her conversation is what it was--and _more so_, her hospitality, her generosity--and her admirable management of the girls and the house is as A1 as ever. I never saw a prettier, jollier, nicer set of girls. H---- is growing _very_ charming, I think. I believe the secret of her success, in spite of that extraordinary fitful intellect of hers, is that one never learns anything _well_ but what one learns _willingly_, and that she makes life so much more pleasant and reasonable that the girls work themselves, and so get on.

It's getting late! Good-night. I wish we met oftener!

Ever your very loving sister, J.H.E.

Have you seen March _A.J.M._? I particularly want you to read a thing of mine called "Our Garden." I'll send it if you can't get it.

_For Private Circulation Only._

(Oh, Charles! Charles!)

Time, 2 p.m. Julie in bed for the sake of "perfect quiet." M.M.

"without a moment to spare."

"I SEE I'm tiring you--I shall NOT stop--I haven't a moment--I can't speak--I've given lessons on the mixed Languages this morning--and paid all my bills--Mr. B---- has called--he's better-looking than I thought, but too much hair--and the BREWER all over--you look very white--you're killing yourself--why DO you DO it?--and U----'s as bad--I mean D----.

Dear me! what a pleasure it has been! When I THINK of Ecclesfield!!!!

You are NOT to kill yourself--I forbid it--why should you work for daily bread as I have to do?--Our bread bill doesn't exceed 4 a week--I mean a month--TEN pounds a month for groceries and wine--spirits we never have in the house--you've seen all that we have--when I was senseless and Dr. F---- called--when the other doctors came he left his card and retired, but we've employed him since--he ordered gin cloths--they sent out--when the bill came in I said Brown! BROWN! BROWN!!--_what's this?_ GIN! GIN! GIN! WHO'S 'ad GIN! They said YOU! Such is life!

"Dear, dear, IT is a pleasure to see you--but I see your head's bad and I'm going--I MUST dress.--May I ring your bell for the maid--a black silk, Julie, good and well cut is economical, my dear. No _underground to Whiteley's_ for me! Lewis and Allenby--they dress me--I order nothing--I know nothing--I haven't a rag of clothing in the world--they line the bodices with silk and you can darn it down to the last--I eat nothing--I drink nothing--I only _work_--I never sleep--I read German cla.s.sics in bed--Lessing--and the second part of Schiller's _Faust_--I give lessons on it before breakfast in my dressing-gown--this morning the young ladies hung on my lips--I _know_ the lesson was a good one--It was the Sorrows of Goethe. Last week Dr. Zerffi said--'All religions are one and one religion is all--particularly the Brahmas.' It was splendid!

and none of the young ladies knew it before they came. But Poor Mrs.

S----! She didn't seem one bit wiser. I sent him a Valentine on the 14th--designed by the young ladies. He said 'I _knew_ where it came from--by the word BOPP. Zis is ze only establishment in England where the word BOPP is known.' He's a great man--and the Teutonic element _must_ prevail. The Kelts are very charming, but they will GO. We've the same facial angle as the Hindoo, but poor Mrs. S---- can't see it. Dr.

A---- says I must have some sleep--so I've given up Sanscrit--You can't do everything even in bed. And it's _English_ when all's done--and Brown speaks it as well as I do!! _Go_ to India, Julie, if ever you have the chance, and talk to the natives--they'll understand you. They understand me. Signor Ricci sometimes does NOT. But then he speaks the modern--the base--Italian, and _I_--the _cla.s.sic_. He said, 'I do not understand you, Mees M----.' I said, 'E vero, Signor--I know you don't. But that's because I speak _cla.s.sic_ Italian. All the organ-boys understand me.'

And he smiled. Dear, dear! How pleasant it is to see a Gatty--but I wish you didn't look so white--when I see other people suffer, and think of all the years of health I've enjoyed, I never can be thankful enough--and when I've paid my monthly bills I'm the happiest woman in England. When I think of how much I have and how little I deserve, I don't know what to do but say my prayers. Dear, I'm sorry I told you that story about X----. If she sent this morning for 10 I must let her have it, if I had to go out and borrow it. I am going out--the Dr. says I must. In the holidays I go on the balcony--and look down into the street--and see the four-in-hands--and the policemen--and the han(d)som cabmen (they're most of them gentlemen--and some of them Irish gentlemen), and I say--'Such is life!' And poor Mrs. S---- says '_Is it_, Miss M----?' and I know I speak sharply to her, which I should _not do_. And I go into Kensington Gardens--and see the Princess--and the Ducks in the water--and the little ragged boys going to bathe--and I say 'This is a glorious world!' I saw Lord--Lord--dear me! I know his name as well as my own--Lord--Lord--Oh Lord! he believes in Tichborne--K----, that's it--Lord K---- in the Row. He always asks after me. HE married a woman--well. No more about that. He couldn't get a divorce. HER sister married a parson. SHE was the mother of that poor woman--you know--who was murdered by those people--THEY lived two streets off Derby House--the brother--a handsome man--lived opposite Gipsey Hill Station.

You know _that_? _Well._ His wife had a bunch of curls behind (I hate curls and bunches behind--keep your hair clean and put it up simply).

SHE--got off and so did HE. THEY--that's the parson and his wife--wrote to Lord K---- and said 'Lady K---- is dead,' He said 'Then bury her.'

and he married again at once. SHE was a Miss A., and she said--'I marry him because I've been told to'--but that's neither here nor there, and these things occur. ANN! is that you? My dear, how black you are under the eyes--DO, Julie, try and take better care of yourself--and _keep quiet_. If I were Major Ewing I'd _thrash_ you if you didn't. Coming, Ann!--What was it?--Oh, Lord K---- and Tichborne--well--just let me shut the door. He IS Tichborne--but _he murdered him_. That's the secret.

"ANN! My black silk--go to my room--murdered who? why--_Castor_.

"Now try and get some sleep. If I find you with papers I'll _burn them_. Oh! there go all the drags and Mr. M---- on the box--and there go the 4.45, 5.15, and 5.25 to Baker St.--The days fly! But it's a glorious life. Work! Work!--Keep quiet, dear--I shall be back directly."

TO A.E.

_"Sheffield House," New Quay, Dartmouth._ June 4, 1874.

... The above I find is our _correct_ address, though what I sent you is all-sufficient, especially as you can't land without our seeing you out of our window, as we are almost within speaking distance of the steamer....

From Exeter here the line is lovely. Half the way you run along the sh.o.r.e. The fields ploughed and meadowed, and with trees, and cattle come down to the sh.o.r.e. [_Sketch._]

TORBAY is in this line. The cliffs are a deep red sandstone, the sky deep blue, and the fields deep green!! [_Sketch._]

At Dawlish, Torquay, etc. the jutting rocks of worn-away sandstone mark the points of the little bays with fantastic looking shapes, like petrified giants. [_Sketch._]

Looking back from Teignmouth is a very curious one on which the sea-birds sit. Bless their noses! and their legs! How they do enjoy the waves! [_Sketch._]

Those lazy ripples damp their boots so nicely!

In the Exeter Station sat a ---- [_Sketch_] Bull Dogue. O dear! He looked so "savidge," and was so nervous; every train made him tremble in every limb! I bought him a penny bun, but he was too nervous to eat, though he looked very grateful. The porter promised me to give him plenty of water, and as I gave the porter plenty of coppers I hope he did!

Tell Stephen the flowers on the railway banks give you quite a turn!

Crimson, pale pink, and dead-white Valerian against a deep blue sky in hot sunshine make one not know whether to PAINT or press!

As to Dartmouth itself it is a mixture of Matlock, Whitby and Antwerp!!! The defect is it is really oil the river, not on the sea, but the neighbouring bays are so get-at-able we have settled here. The town is very old. Some of the streets, or rather terraces--if a perfectly irregular perching and jumbling of houses up and down a steep lull can be called a terrace--are very curious. [_Sketch._]

Flowers everywhere....

TO H.K.F.G.

July 12, 1874.

Dr. Edghill preached a fine sermon this morning on "Friend! wherefore art thou come?" Terribly didactic on the fate of Judas, but the practical application was wonderful and _so_ like him! It being chiefly on the "patient love of Christ." Quite merciless on Judas, and on the coa.r.s.eness, coldness and brutalness of betrayal by the tenderest sign of human love. "But" (plunging head-first among the Engineers!) "if there's any man sitting here with a heart and conscience every bit as black as Judas's _in that hour_: to thee, Brother, in this hour--in thy worst and vilest hour--Jesus speaks--'_Friend!_--You may have worn out human love, you may try your hardest to wear out Mine'"--(parenthesis to the A.S.C. and a nautical _hitch_ of half his surplice)--("and we all try hard enough, _that's_ certain!)--'but _you never can_--Friend, still My Friend!'" (Pull up, and obvious need of bronchial troches. Tonsure mopped and a re-commencement.) "Then there's the appeal to the _conscience_ as well as to the _heart_. _Wherefore art thou come?_ what art thou about--what is thy object? I tell you what, I believe if Judas had answered this in plain language to himself he would have stopped short even then. And we should stop short of many a sin if we'd _face_ what we're going to do" (Dangerous precipitation of the whole Chaplain at the heads of the privates below.) "Some of you ask yourselves that question to-day--this evening _as you're walking to Aldershot_, 'Wherefore am I come?' And don't let the Devil put something else into your head, but just _answer it_," etc. etc.

He's not exactly an _equal_ or a _finished_ preacher for highly educated ears, but that sort of transparent candour which he has makes him _very_ affecting when on his favourite topic, the inexhaustible love of G.o.d. His face when he quotes--"The Son of G.o.d Who loved _Me_ and gave Himself for _Me_," is like a man showing the Rock he has clung to himself in shipwreck.

TO C.T.G.

_X Lines._ July 22, 1874.

DEAREST CHARLIE,

It was a _great_ disappointment not to see you! Now don't fail me next week--you scoundrel! I want you _most_ particularly for most selfish reasons. I am just taking my hero[38] into Victoria Docks, and want to dip my brush in _Couleur locale_ with your help. Do come, and we'll go up to London by _barge_ and sketch all the way!!! I know an A1 Bargemaster, and we can get beds at the inns _en route_. A two days'