y of observation throughout, and think the
boy at the shop, and all about him, particularly good. I have no doubt
whatever that the rest of the journal will be much better if the writer
chooses to make it so. If she considers for a moment within herself, she
will know that she derived pleasure from everything she saw, because she
saw it with innumerable lights and shades upon it, and bound to humanity
by innumerable fine links; she cannot possibly communicate anything of
that pleasure to another by showing it from one little limited point
only, and that point, observe, the one from which it is impossible to
detach the exponent as the patroness of a whole universe of inferior
souls. This is what everybody would mean in objecting to these notes
(supposing them to be published), that they are too smart and too
flippant.

As I understand this matter to be altogether between us three, and as I
think your confidence, and hers, imposes a duty of friendship on me, I
discharge it to the best of my ability. Perhaps I make more of it than
you may have meant or expected; if so, it is because I am interested and
wish to express it. If there had been anything in my objection not
perfectly easy of removal, I might, after all, have hesitated to state
it; but that is not the case. A very little indeed would make all this
gaiety as sound and wholesome and good-natured in the reader's mind as
it is in the writer's.

Affectionately always.

[Sidenote: Anonymous.]

GAD'S HILL PLACE, HIGHAM, _Thursday, June 4th, 1857._

MY DEAR ----

Coming home here last night, from a day's business in London, I found
your most excellent note awaiting me, in which I have had a pleasure to
be derived from none but good and natural things. I can now honestly
assure you that I believe you will write _well_, and that I have a
lively hope that I may be the means of showing you yourself in print one
day. Your powers of graceful and light-hearted observation need nothing
but the little touches on which we are both agreed. And I am perfectly
sure that they will be as pleasant to you as to anyone, for nobody can
see so well as you do, without feeling kindly too.

To confess the truth to you, I was half sorry, yesterday, that I had
been so unreserved; but not half as sorry, yesterday, as I am glad
to-day. You must not mind my adding that there is a noble candour and
modesty in your note, which