Your affectionate Papa.

[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]

DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _Tuesday Morning, Nov. 23rd, 1847._

MY DEAR MACREADY,

I am in the whirlwind of finishing a number with a crisis in it; but I
can't fall to work without saying, in so many words, that I feel all
words insufficient to tell you what I think of you after a night like
last night. The multitudes of new tokens by which I know you for a great
man, the swelling within me of my love for you, the pride I have in you,
the majestic reflection I see in you of all the passions and affections
that make up our mystery, throw me into a strange kind of transport that
has no expression but in a mute sense of an attachment, which, in truth
and fervency, is worthy of its subject.

What is this to say! Nothing, God knows, and yet I cannot leave it
unsaid.

Ever affectionately yours.

P.S.--I never saw you more gallant and free than in the gallant and free
scenes last night. It was perfectly captivating to behold you. However,
it shall not interfere with my determination to address you as Old Parr
in all future time.

[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]

EDINBURGH, _Thursday, December 13th, 1847._

MY DEAR GEORGY,

I "take up my pen," as the young ladies write, to let you know how we
are getting on; and as I shall be obliged to put it down again very
soon, here goes. We lived with very hospitable people in a very splendid
house near Glasgow, and were perfectly comfortable. The meeting was the
most stupendous thing as to numbers, and the most beautiful as to
colours and decorations I ever saw. The inimitable did wonders. His
grace, elegance, and eloquence, enchanted all beholders. _Kate didn't
go!_ having been taken ill on the railroad between here and Glasgow.

It has been snowing, sleeting, thawing, and freezing, sometimes by turns
and sometimes all together, since the night before last. Lord Jeffrey's
household are in town here, not at Craigcrook, and jogging on in a cosy,
old-fashioned, comfortable sort of way. We have some idea of going to
York on Sunday, passing that night at Alfred's, and coming home on
Monday; but of this, Kate will advise you when she writes, which she
will do to-morrow, after I shall have seen the list of railway trains.

She sends her best love. She is a little poorly still, but nothing to
speak of. She is fright