friend, Mr. R----, kindly complimenting me on the
performance, said, "It was all delightful: but you _are_ Henry V.,"
and whatever difference of opinion may have existed among my critics
as to my rendering the tragic and comic characters of Shakespeare's
plays, I think the heroic ones were those in which I ought to have
succeeded best, for they were undoubtedly those with which I had
most sympathy.]

FULFORD, YORK, Saturday, 3d.
MY DEAREST HAL,

I am amused at your gasping anxiety to be told where I am going, as if I
was about to depart into some non-postal region, where letter of yours
should never reach me more, instead of spending the next week in
Edinburgh, which surely you did know.... My dearest Hal, J---- W---- has
just come into my room, bringing the news of the Emperor of Russia's
death. It has seized me quite hysterically, and the idea of the possible
immediate cessation of carnage and desolation, and war and wickedness
(in that peculiar shape), has shaken me inexpressibly, and I am shocked
at the tears of joy that are raining from my eyes, so that I can't see
the paper on which I am writing to you; and if I can thus weep my
thanksgivings for the news of this man's death, who have no dear son, or
brother, or husband on that murderous Crimean soil, think of the shout
of rejoicing which will be his only dirge throughout France and England.
I am shocked at the exclamation of gratitude which escaped my lips when
I heard the announcement. Poor human soul, how terrible that its sudden
summons from its heavy and difficult responsibilities should thus be
hailed by any other human creature! and yet how many will draw a long
breath, as of a great deliverance, at this news!

I can hardly write at all, my hand shakes so, and I cannot think of
anything else; and yet I had purposed to send dear Dorothy some account
of her family here, who are all well and most kind to me. I will wait a
while....

DEAREST DOROTHY,

I sit here in this pleasant room [I was in Miss Wilson's home], the
prospect from which is improved by the rising of the river, which
presents the appearance of a lake. The snowdrops hang their white
clusters above the brown mould of the garden beds, and watery rays of
sunshine slant shyly across the meadows: the whole is very sweet and
peaceful, and I was enjoying it extremely, when the report of this
imperial death broke like a peal of