server of fine engravings; his
collection, one of the finest private collections in the world, is
estimated at sixty thousand pounds. He is a friend of dear Mr.
Bennoch's, who, when I told him the compliment that had been paid to
my work by a great city man, immediately said it could be nobody but
Mr. Dillon. I have twice seen Mr. Bennoch within the last ten days,
once with Mr. Johnson and Mr. Thompson, your own Boston artist, whom
I liked much, and who gave me the great pleasure of talking of you
and of dear Mr. and Mrs. W----, last time with his own good and
charming wife and ----. Only think of ----'s saying that
Shakespeare, if he had lived now, would have been thought nothing
of, and this rather as a compliment to the age than not! But, if you
remember, he printed amended words to the air of "Drink to me only."
Ah, dear me, I suspect that both William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson
will survive him; don't you? Nevertheless he is better than might be
predicated from that observation.

All my domestic news is bad enough. My poor pretty pony keeps his
bed in the stable, with a violent attack of influenza, and Sam and
Fanchon spend three parts of their time in nursing him. Moreover we
have had such rains here that the Lodden has overflowed its banks,
and is now covering the water meadows, and almost covering the lower
parts of the lanes. Adieu, dearest friend.

Ever most faithfully yours, M.R.M.

Swallowfield, October 13, 1852.

More than one letter of mine, dearest friend, crossed yours, for
which I cannot sufficiently thank you. Nobody can better understand
than I do, how very, very glad your own people, and all the good
city, must feel to get you back again,--I trust not to keep; for in
spite of sea-sickness, that misery which during the summer I have
contrived to feel on land, I still hope that we shall have you here
again in the spring. I am impatiently waiting the arrival of
portraits and autographs, and if they do not come in time to bind, I
shall charge Mr. Holloway to contrive that they may be pasted with
the copy of my Recollections to which Mr. Dillon is paying so high
and so costly a compliment. Now I must tell you some news.

First let me say that there is an admirable criticism in one of the
numbers of the Nonconformist, edited by Edward Miall, one of the new