MONDAY, _October 18th, 1852._

SIR,

On my return to town I find the letter awaiting me which you did me the
favour to address to me, I believe--for it has no date--some days ago.

I have the greatest tenderness for the memory of Hood, as I had for
himself. But I am not very favourable to posthumous memorials in the
monument way, and I should exceedingly regret to see any such appeal as
you contemplate made public, remembering another public appeal that was
made and responded to after Hood's death. I think that I best discharge
my duty to my deceased friend, and best consult the respect and love
with which I remember him, by declining to join in any such public
endeavours as that which you (in all generosity and singleness of
purpose, I am sure) advance. I shall have a melancholy gratification in
privately assisting to place a simple and plain record over the remains
of a great writer that should be as modest as he was himself, but I
regard any other monument in connection with his mortal resting-place as
a mistake.

I am, Sir, your faithful Servant.

[Sidenote: Rev. James White.]

OFFICE OF "HOUSEHOLD WORDS," _Tuesday, Oct. 19th, 1852._

MY DEAR WHITE,

We are now getting our Christmas extra number together, and I think you
are the boy to do, if you will, one of the stories.

I propose to give the number some fireside name, and to make it consist
entirely of short stories supposed to be told by a family sitting round
the fire. _I don't care about their referring to Christmas at all_; nor
do I design to connect them together, otherwise than by their names, as:

THE GRANDFATHER'S STORY.
THE FATHER'S STORY.
THE DAUGHTER'S STORY.
THE SCHOOLBOY'S STORY.
THE CHILD'S STORY.
THE GUEST'S STORY.
THE OLD NURSE'S STORY.

The grandfather might very well be old enough to have lived in the days
of the highwaymen. Do you feel disposed, from fact, fancy, or both, to
do a good winter-hearth story of a highwayman? If you do, I embrace you
(per post), and throw up a cap I have purchased for the purpose into
mid-air.

Think of it and write me a line in reply. We are all well and blooming.

Are you never coming to town any more? Never going to drink port again,
metropolitaneously, but _always_ with Fielden?

Love to Mrs. White and the children, if Lotty be not out of the list
l