to wandering prayers, I
cannot believe that it is of consequence whether this poor breath of
ours wanders or does not wander. If we have strength to throw ourselves
upon Him for everything, for prayer, as well as for the ends of prayer,
it is enough, and He will prove it to be enough presently. I have been
when I could not pray at all. And then God's face seemed so close upon
me that there was no need of prayer, any more than if I were near _you_,
as I yearn to be, as I ought to be, there would be need for this letter.
Oh, be sure that He means well by us by what we suffer, and it is when
we suffer that He often makes the meaning clearer. You know how that
brilliant, witty, true poet Heine, who was an atheist (as much as a man
can pretend to be), has made a public profession of a change of opinion
which was pathetic to my eyes and heart the other day as I read it. He
has joined no church, but simply (to use his own words) has 'returned
home to God like the prodigal son after a long tending of the swine.' It
is delightful to go home to God, even after a tending of the sheep. Poor
Heine has lived a sort of living death for years, quite deprived of his
limbs, and suffering tortures to boot, I understand. It is not because
we are brought low that we must die, my dearest friend. I hope--I do not
say 'hope' for _you_ so much as for _me_ and for the many who hang their
hearts on your life--I hope that you may survive all these terrible
sufferings and weaknesses, and I take my comfort from your letter, from
the firmness and beauty of the manuscript; I who know how weak hands
will shudder and reel along the paper. Surely there is strength for more
life in that hand. Now I stoop to kiss it in my thought. Feel my kiss on
the dear hand, dear, dear friend.

A previous letter of yours pained me much because I seemed to have given
you the painful trouble in it of describing your state, your weakness.
Ah, I _knew_ what that state was, and it was _therefore_ that the slip
of paper which came with 'Atherton' seemed to me so ominous! By the way,
I shall see 'Atherton' before long, I dare say. The 'German Library' in
our street is to have a 'box of new books' almost directly, and in it
surely must be 'Atherton,' and you shall hear my thoughts of the book as
soon as I catch sight of it. Then you have sent me the Dramas. Thank
you, thank you; they will be precious. I saw the article in the
'Athenaeum' with joy and triumph, and knew Mr. Chorle