n publication. Blunders are occasionally made of course: the most
remarkable in recent times was probably an oversight of the editor of
Edward FitzGerald's letters, than which hardly any more interesting
exist among those yet to be noticed. FitzGerald, quite innocently and
without the slightest personal malevolence but thinking only of Mrs.
Browning's work, had expressed himself (as anybody might in a private
letter) to the effect that perhaps we need not be sorry for her death.
Unfortunately the letter was published while her husband was still
alive: and many people must remember the very natural and excusable, but
somewhat excessive and undignified, explosion which followed on his
part.

Such things must of course be avoided at all costs; and the consequence
is that nineteenth century letters must frequently--in fact with rare if
any exceptions--have appeared in a condition of expurgation which cannot
but have affected their spirit and savour to a very considerable extent.
It is for instance understood that Mr. Matthew Arnold's were very
severely censored; and, while readily believing this and acquiescing in
its probable propriety, the old Adam in some readers may be unable to
refrain from regret.

Again, there is something to be said about the less good effects of that
"Life-and-Letters" system which has been quite rightly welcomed and
praised for its better ones. Drawing on the Letters--with good material
to work on and good skill in the worker--improves the Life enormously;
but it is by no means certain--indeed it has been hinted already--that
the Letters themselves do not to a certain extent lose by it. Indeed
from one point of view, the word "loss" may be used in its most literal
meaning. The compiler of one very famous biography was said, for
instance, to have--with a disregard of the value of letters as
autographs which was magnificent perhaps in one way but far from "the
game" in others--cut up the actual sheets and pasted the pieces on his
manuscript, sending the whole to the printers and chancing the survival
even of what was sent, when it came back with the proofs.

But there is another sense of "loss" which has also to be reckoned. The
framework of biography is, or at least ought to be, something more than
a mere frame: and it distracts attention from the letters themselves,
breaks up their continuous effect, and in many cases necessitates at
least occasional omission of parts which an editor of them by