and could not do harm, because even if she failed at the first
trial (which is not unlikely) she would still be in some measure
benefited by the effort.

'I duly received _Mirabeau_ from Mr. Smith. I must repeat, it is
really _too_ kind. When I have read the book, I will tell you what I
think of it--its subject is interesting. One thing a little annoyed
me--as I glanced over the pages I fancied I detected a savour of
Carlyle's peculiarities of style. Now Carlyle is a great man, but I
always wish he would write plain English; and to imitate his
Germanisms is, I think, to imitate his faults. Is the author of this
work a Manchester man? I must not ask his name, I suppose.--Believe
me, my dear sir, yours sincerely,

'CURRER BELL.'

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

'_June_ 22_nd_, 1848.

'MY DEAR SIR,--After reading a book which has both interested and
informed you, you like to be able, on laying it down, to speak of it
with unqualified approbation--to praise it cordially; you do not like
to stint your panegyric, to counteract its effect with blame.

'For this reason I feel a little difficulty in telling you what I
think of _The Life of Mirabeau_. It has interested me much, and I
have derived from it additional information. In the course of
reading it, I have often felt called upon to approve the ability and
tact of the writer, to admire the skill with which he conducts the
narrative, enchains the reader's attention, and keeps it fixed upon
his hero; but I have also been moved frequently to disapprobation.
It is not the political principles of the writer with which I find
fault, nor is it his talents I feel inclined to disparage; to speak
truth, it is his manner of treating Mirabeau's errors that
offends--then, I think, he is neither wise nor right--there, I think,
he betrays a little of crudeness, a little of presumption, not a
little of indiscretion.

'Could you with confidence put this work into the hands of your son,
secure that its perusal would not harm him, that it would not leave
on his mind some vague impression that there is a grandeur in vice
committed on a colossal scale? Whereas, the fact is, that in vice
there is no grandeur, that it is, on