y is gone to America, and I hope is, by this
time, in the United States. He goes to New York, and afterward I
_suppose_ (but I don't know) to Boston and Philadelphia. Have you
seen _Esmond_? There are parts of it charmingly written. His pathos
is to me very touching. I believe that the best mode of making one's
way to a person's head is--through his heart.

"I hope that your literary men will like some of my little prose
matters. I know that they will _try_ to like them; but the papers
have been written so long, and all, or almost all, written so
hastily, that I have my misgivings. However, they must take their
chance.

"Had I leisure to complete something that I began two or three years
ago, and in which I have written a chapter or two, I should reckon
more surely on success; but I shall probably never finish the thing,
although I contemplated only one volume.

"(If you cannot read this letter apply to the printer's
devil.--Hibernicus.)

"Farewell. All good be with you. My wife desires to be kindly
remembered by you.

"Always yours, very sincerely,

"B.W. PROCTER."

"P.S.--Can you contrive to send Mr. Willis a copy of the prose book?
If so, pray do."

In February, 1853, he writes:--

"Those famous volumes, the advent of which was some time since
announced by the great transatlantic trumpet, have duly arrived. My
wife is properly grateful for her copy, which, indeed, impresses
both of us with respect for the American skill in binding. Neither
too gay to be gaudy, nor too grave, so as to affect the theological,
it hits that happy medium which agrees with the tastes of most
people and disgusts none. We should flatter ourselves that it is
intended to represent the matter within, but that we are afraid of
incurring the sin of vanity, and the indiscretion of taking
appearances too much upon trust. We suspend our conjectures on this
very interesting subject. The whole getting up of the book is
excellent.

"For the little scraps of (critical) sugar enclosed in your letter,
due thanks. These will sweeten our imagination for some time to
come.

"I have been obliged to give all the copies you sent me away. I dare
say you will not grudge me four or five copies more, to be sent at
your convenience, of course. Let me hear from you at the same time.
You can