:
and would it not therefore be wise of you, in that case, to fold your
life new again and go abroad at once? What can make you weary in your
soul, is a problem to me. You are the last from whom I should have
expected such a word. And you did say so, I _think_. I _think_ that it
was not a mistake of mine. And _you_, ... with a full liberty, and the
world in your hand for every purpose and pleasure of it!--Or is it
that, being unwell, your spirits are affected by _that_? But then you
might be more unwell than you like to admit--. And I am teasing you
with talking of it ... am I not?--and being disagreeable is only one
third of the way towards being useful, it is good to remember in time.

And then the next thing to write off my mind is ... that you must not,
you must not, make an unjust opinion out of what I said to-day. I have
been uncomfortable since, lest you should--and perhaps it would have
been better if I had not said it apart from all context in that way;
only that you could not long be a friend of mine without knowing and
seeing what so lies on the surface. But then, ... as far as I am
concerned, ... no one cares less for a 'will' than I do (and this
though I never had one, ... in clear opposition to your theory which
holds generally nevertheless) for a will in the common things of life.
Every now and then there must of course be a crossing and
vexation--but in one's mere pleasures and fantasies, one would rather
be crossed and vexed a little than vex a person one loves ... and it
is possible to get used to the harness and run easily in it at last;
and there is a side-world to hide one's thoughts in, and 'carpet-work'
to be immoral on in spite of Mrs. Jameson, ... and the word
'literature' has, with me, covered a good deal of liberty as you must
see ... real liberty which is never enquired into--and it has happened
throughout my life by an accident (as far as anything is accident)
that my own sense of right and happiness on any important point of
overt action, has never run contrariwise to the way of obedience
required of me ... while in things not exactly _overt_, I and all of
us are apt to act sometimes up to the limit of our means of acting,
with shut doors and windows, and no waiting for cognisance or
permission. Ah--and that last is the worst of it all perhaps! to be
forced into concealments from the heart naturally nearest to us; and
forced away from the natural source of counsel and strength!--and
then,