question; but I suppose the
best, as reviews, are the 'Dublin Review,' 'Blackwood,' the 'New
Quarterly,' and the last 'American,' I forget the title at this
moment, the _Whig_ 'American,' _not_ the Democratic. The most
favorable to me are certainly the American unremembered, and the late
'Metropolitan,' which last was written, I hear, by Mr. Charles Grant,
a voluminous writer, but no poet. I consider myself singularly
happy in my reviews, and to have full reason for gratitude to the
profession.

I forgot to say that what the Dublin reviewer did me the honor of
considering an Irishism was the expression 'Do you mind' in 'Cyprus
Wine.' But he was wrong, because it occurs frequently among our elder
English writers, and is as British as London porter.

Now see how you throw me into figurative liquids, by your last Cyprus.
It is the true celestial, this last. But Arabel pleased me most by
bringing back so good an account of _you_.

Your ever affectionate and grateful
ELIBET.

[Footnote 130: A monster bell for York Minster, then being exhibited
at the Baker Street Bazaar. Mr. Boyd was an enthusiast on bells and
bell ringing.]

_To John Kenyan_
Friday [about January-March 1845].

Dearest Mr. Kenyon,--If your good nature is still not at ease, through
doubting about how to make Lizzy happy in a book, you will like
to hear perhaps that I have thought of a certain 'Family Robinson
Crusoe,' translated from the _German_, I think, _not_ a Robinson
_purified_, mind, but a Robinson multiplied and compounded.[131]
Children like reading it, I believe. And then there is a 'Masterman
Ready,' or some name like it, by Captain Marryat, also popular with
young readers. Or 'Seaward's Narrative,' by Miss Porter, would delight
her, as it did _me_, not so many years ago.

I mention these books, but know nothing of their price; and only
because you asked me, I do mention them. The fact is that she is not
hard to please as to literature, and will be delighted with anything.

To-day Mr. Poe sent me a volume containing his poems and tales
collected, so now I _must_ write and thank him for his dedication.
What is to be said, I wonder, when a man calls you the 'noblest of
your sex'? 'Sir, you are the most discerning of yours.' Were you
thanked for the garden ticket yesterday? No, everybody was ungrateful,
down to Flush, who drinks day by day out of his new purple cup, and
had it properly explained how _you_ gave it to him (_I_ explained
_