oodness knows how long
for an answer), and state my readiness to translate this excellent
and instructive story. I do not wish to breathe A WORD against 'Lovel
Parsonage,' 'Framley the Widower,' or any of the novels which have
appeared in the Cornhill Magazine, but I AM SURE 'Telemachus' is as good
as new to English readers, and in point of interest and morality far,"
&c. &c. &c.

There it is. I am stabbed through Johnson. He has lent himself to this
attack on me. He is weak about women. Other strong men are. He submits
to the common lot, poor fellow. In my reply I do not use a word of
unkindness. I write him back gently, that I fear "Telemachus" won't suit
us. He can send the letter on to his fair correspondent. But however
soft the answer, I question whether the wrath will be turned away. Will
there not be a coolness between him and the lady? and is it not possible
that henceforth her fine eyes will look with darkling glances upon the
pretty orange cover of our Magazine?

Certain writers, they say, have a bad opinion of women. Now am I very
whimsical in supposing that this disappointed candidate will be hurt at
her rejection, and angry or cast down according to her nature? "Angry,
indeed!" says Juno, gathering up her purple robes and royal raiment.
"Sorry, indeed!" cries Minerva, lacing on her corselet again, and
scowling under her helmet. (I imagine the well-known Apple case has just
been argued and decided.) "Hurt, forsooth! Do you suppose WE care for
the opinion of that hobnailed lout of a Paris? Do you suppose that I,
the Goddess of Wisdom, can't make allowances for mortal ignorance,
and am so base as to bear malice against a poor creature who knows no
better? You little know the goddess nature when you dare to insinuate
that our divine minds are actuated by motives so base. A love of justice
influences US. We are above mean revenge. We are too magnanimous to be
angry at the award of such a judge in favor of such a creature." And
rustling out their skirts, the ladies walk away together. This is
all very well. You are bound to believe them. They are actuated by no
hostility: not they. They bear no malice--of course not. But when the
Trojan war occurs presently, which side will they take? Many brave
souls will be sent to Hades. Hector will perish. Poor old Priam's bald
numskull will be cracked, and Troy town will burn, because Paris prefers
golden-haired Venus to ox-eyed Juno and gray-eyed Minerva.

The last Essa