mes_ for a pupil to prepare for
college, and should he be able to obtain one, it would, of course,
materially assist him. In the mean time he is working with infinite
ardor and industry upon an important work, the "History of the English
Law." A friend of his, whom I met there, who is, I think, a competent
judge, which, of course, I am not, of any such matter, assured me that
the work was one of great erudition and research, but at the same time
so dry and difficult, and therefore little likely to be popular, that it
would not be easy to persuade any publisher to undertake it. He, Mr.
B----, carried the first volume, which is complete, to town with him, to
show it to persons capable of appreciating it, and endeavor to get it a
little known, so as to procure an offer for its publication. Poor John!
his perseverance in the studies he loves is very great, his devotion to
them very deep, and if he could only live upon his means with his
beloved mistress, Learning, I should think he had made a noble and
honorable choice, however bitterly disappointed my father may feel at
his not choosing to follow more lucrative pursuits.

I am going to act in _Dublin_. I have neither time nor space for more.

God bless you.

Ever yours,
FANNY.

10, PARK PLACE, Friday, 12th, 1847.

Direct to me at Manchester, "Theatre Royal," my dear Hal, that is all;
or, indeed, I should prefer your directing to the Albion Hotel, that
same house where you and I were so charmed by the sunlight on the
carpet.

You say I do not know the value of letters. I think I do, for if I had
not the very highest value for them I should long ago have given way to
my detestation of writing, and put an end to my innumerable
correspondences. Your letters have more than once been snatched up by
me, and pressed to my lips; so have my sister's.... I hate writing, it
is true, but am content to pay that price for the intercourse of my
friends; and though I may not love letters as you do, I do think I have
a reasonable appreciation of their value.

I share in your feeling, dearest Harriet, about my being in Dublin
while you are absent from it. I do not know that it seems to me "wrong,"
but it certainly does seem as unnatural as that there should be a
theatre open in Dublin at all at this time, when famine and such dire
distress are prevailin