ing would end in the
safe deliverance of the commodities after all; for when I began this
letter, I meant to give utterance to all kinds of heartiness, my dear
Stanfield; and I come to the end of it without having said anything more
than that I am--which is new to you--under every circumstance and
everywhere,

Your most affectionate Friend.

[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]

PALAZZO PESCHIERE, GENOA, _October 14th, 1844._

MY VERY DEAR MACREADY,

My whole heart is with you _at home_. I have not yet felt so far off as
I do now, when I think of you there, and cannot fold you in my arms.
This is only a shake of the hand. I couldn't _say_ much to you, if I
were home to greet you. Nor can I write much, when I think of you, safe
and sound and happy, after all your wanderings.

My dear fellow, God bless you twenty thousand times. Happiness and joy
be with you! I hope to see you soon. If I should be so unfortunate as to
miss you in London, I will fall upon you, with a swoop of love, in
Paris. Kate says all kind things in the language; and means more than
are in the dictionary capacity of all the descendants of all the
stonemasons that worked at Babel. Again and again and again, my own true
friend, God bless you!

Ever yours affectionately.

[Sidenote: Mr. Douglas Jerrold.]

CREMONA, _Saturday Night, October 16th, 1844._

MY DEAR JERROLD,

As half a loaf is better than no bread, so I hope that half a sheet of
paper may be better than none at all, coming from one who is anxious to
live in your memory and friendship. I should have redeemed the pledge I
gave you in this regard long since, but occupation at one time, and
absence from pen and ink at another, have prevented me.

Forster has told you, or will tell you, that I very much wish you to
hear my little Christmas book; and I hope you will meet me, at his
bidding, in Lincoln's Inn Fields. I have tried to strike a blow upon
that part of the brass countenance of wicked Cant, when such a
compliment is sorely needed at this time, and I trust that the result of
my training is at least the exhibition of a strong desire to make it a
staggerer. If _you_ should think at the end of the four rounds (there
are no more) that the said Cant, in the language of _Bell's Life_,
"comes up piping," I shall be very much the better for it.

I am now on