ill more desire
to see his volume; and the letter from Dr. Holmes is charming, so
clear, so kind, and so good. If I had been a boy, I would have
followed their noble profession. Three such men as Mr. May, Dr.
Parsons, and Dr. Holmes are enough to confirm the predilection that
I have always had for the art of healing.

I have no good news to tell you of dear Mr. K----. His sweet wife
(Mr. Ticknor will remember her) has been three times at death's door
since he saw her here, and must spend at least two winters more at
Torquay. But I don't believe that he could stay here even if she
were well. Bramshill has fallen into the hands of a Puseyite parson,
who, besides that craze, which is so flagrant as to have made dear
Mr. K---- forbid him his pulpit, is subject to fits of raving
madness,--one of those most dangerous lunatics whom an age (in which
there is a great deal of false humanity) never shuts up until some
terrible crime has been committed. (A celebrated mad-doctor said the
other day of this very man, that he had "homicidal madness.") You
may fancy what such a Squire, opposing him in every way, is to the
rector of the parish. Mr. K---- told me last winter that he was
driving him mad, and I am fully persuaded that he would make a large
sacrifice of income to exchange his parish. To make up for this, he
is working himself to death, and I greatly fear that his excess of
tobacco is almost equal to the opium of Mr. De Quincey. With his
temperament this is full of danger. He was only here for two or
three days to settle a new curate, but he walked over to see me, and
I will take care that he receives your message. His regard for me
is, I really believe, sincere and very warm. Remember that all this
is in strict confidence. The kindness that people show to me is
something surprising. I have not deserved it, but I receive it most
gratefully. It touches one's very heart. Will you say everything for
me to my many kind friends, too many to name? I had a kind letter
from Mrs. Sparks the other day. The poets I cling to while I can
hold a pen. God bless you.

Ever yours, M.R.M.

Can you contrive to send a copy of your edition of "Atherton" to Mr.
Hawthorne? Pray, dear friend, do if you can.

October 12, 1854

My Very Dear Friend: I can hardly give you a greater proof of
affecti