ties make but a part of that fine and genial
character, although I firmly believe that the strength is essential
to the tenderness. I always put you and him together, and it is one
of the compensations of my old age to have acquired such friends.

Have you seen Matthew Arnold's poems? They have fine bits. The
author is a son of Dr. Arnold.

God bless you! Say everything for me to my dear American friends,
Drs. Holmes and Parsons, Mr. Longfellow, Mr. Whittier, Mrs. Sparks,
Mr. Taylor, Mr. Whipple, Mr. and Mrs. Willard, and Mr. Ticknor.
Many, very many happy years to them and to you.

Always most affectionately yours, M.R.M.

P.S. I enclose some slips to be pasted into books for my different
American friends. If I have sent too many, you will know which to
omit. I must add to the American preface a line expressive of my
pleasure in joining my name to yours. I will send one line here for
fear of its not going. Mr. May says that those ducks were amongst
the few things thoroughly deserving their reputation, holding the
same place, as compared with our wild ducks, that the finest venison
does to common mutton. I cannot tell you how much I thank you for
enabling me to send such a treat to such a friend. You will send a
copy of the prose book or the dramas, according to your own
pleasure, only I should like the two dear doctors to have the plays.

Swallowfield, January 23, 1854.

I have always to thank you for some kindness, dearest Mr. Fields,
generally for many. How clever those magazines are, especially Mr.
Lowell's article, and Mr. Bayard Taylor's graceful stanzas! Just now
I have to ask you to forward the enclosed to Mr. Whittier. He sent
me a charming poem on Burns, full of tenderness and humanity, and
the indulgence which the wise and good can so well afford, and which
only the wisest and best can show to their erring brethren. I
rejoice to hear that he is getting well again. I myself am weaker
and more helpless every day, and the rheumatic pain in the chest
increases so rapidly, and makes writing so difficult, even the
writing such a note as this, that I cannot be thankful enough for
having finished "Atherton," for I am sure I could not write it now.
There is some chance of my getting better in the summer, if I can be
got into the air, and that must be by being let down in