heavier evils than have presented themselves to your sister's ingenuous
mind. No true friend I am sure will endeavour to shake her resolution to
remain in her own quiet and healthful obscurity. This is not said with a
view to discourage her from writing, nor have the remarks made above any
aim of the kind; they are rather intended to assist her in writing with
more permanent satisfaction to herself. She will probably write less in
proportion as she subjects her feelings to logical forms, but the range
of her sensibilities so far from being narrowed will extend as she
improves in the habit of looking at things thro' a steady light of
words; and, to speak a little metaphysically, words are not a mere
vehicle, but they are powers either to kill or animate.[106]

[106] Extract of letter to Professor Hamilton, Dublin, Dec. 23d, 1829.

67. _His 'Play:' Hone: Eyesight failing, &c._

TO CHARLES LAMB, ESQ.
Jan. 10. 1830.
MY DEAR LAMB,

A whole twelvemonth have I been a letter in your debt, for which fault I
have been sufficiently punished by self-reproach.

I liked your Play marvellously, having no objection to it but one, which
strikes me as applicable to a large majority of plays, those of
Shakspeare himself not entirely excepted--I mean a little degradation of
character for a more dramatic turn of plot. Your present of Hone's book
was very acceptable; and so much so, that your part of the book is the
cause why I did not write long ago. I wished to enter a little minutely
into notice of the dramatic extracts, and, on account of the smallness
of the print, deferred doing so till longer days would allow me to read
without candle-light, which I have long since given up. But, alas! when
the days lengthened, my eyesight departed, and for many months I could
not read three minutes at a time. You will be sorry to hear that this
infirmity still hangs about me, and almost cuts me off from reading
altogether. But how are you, and how is your dear sister? I long much,
as we all do, to know.

For ourselves, this last year, owing to my sister's dangerous illness,
the effects of which are not yet got over, has been an anxious one and
melancholy. But no more of this. My sister has probably told everything
about the family; so that I may conclude with less scruple, by assuring
you of my sincere and faithful affection for you and your dear sister.