hem 'angelic she's,' whereas, if they stir an inch as thinkers
or artists from the beaten line (involving more good to general
humanity; than is involved in lint), the very same men would curse the
impudence of the very same women and stop there. I can't see on what
ground you think you see here the least gain to the 'woman's question,'
so called. It's rather _the contrary_, to my mind, and, any way, the
women of England must give the precedence to the _soeurs de charite_,
who have magnificently won it in all matters of this kind. For my own
part (and apart from the exceptional miseries of the war), I acknowledge
to you that I do not consider the best use to which we can put a gifted
and accomplished woman is to _make her a hospital nurse_. If it is, why
then woe to us all who are artists! The woman's question is at an end.
The men's 'noes' carry it. For the future I hope you will know your
place and keep clear of Raffaelle and criticism; and I shall expect to
hear of you as an organiser of the gruel department in the hospital at
Greenwich, that is, if you have the luck to _percer_ and distinguish
yourself.

Oh, the Crimea! How dismal, how full of despair and horror! The results
will, however, be good if we are induced to come down from the English
pedestal in Europe of incessant self-glorification, and learn that our
close, stifling, corrupt system gives no air nor scope for healthy and
effective organisation anywhere. We are oligarchic in all things, from
our parliament to our army. Individual interests are admitted as
obstacles to the general prosperity. This plague runs through all things
with us. It accounts for the fact that, according to the last marriage
statistics, thirty per cent, of the male population signed with the
_mark_ only. It accounts for the fact that London is at once the largest
and ugliest city in Europe. For the rest, if we cannot fight righteous
and necessary battles, we must leave our place as a nation, and be
satisfied with making pins. Write to me, but don't pay your letters,
dear dear friend, and I will tell you why. Through some slip somewhere
we have had to pay your two last letters just the same. So don't try it
any more. Do you think we grudge postage from you? Tell me if it is true
that Harriet Martineau is very ill. What do you hear of her?

May God bless you! With Robert's true love,

Your ever affectionate
BA.

* * * * *

The following letter is