give me one of those frequent quarters of an hour which I
know you now devote to a meditation on 'things in general.'

"I am glad that you like Thackeray. He is well worth your liking. I
trust to his making both friends and money in America, and to his
_keeping_ both. I am not so sure of the money, however, for he has a
liberal hand. I should have liked to have been at one of the dinners
you speak of. When shall you begin that _bridge_? You seem to be a
long time about it. It will, I dare say, be a bridge of boats, after
all....

"I was reading (rather re-reading) the other evening the
introductory chapter to the 'Scarlet Letter.' It is admirably
written. Not having any great sympathy with a custom-house,--nor,
indeed, with Salem, except that it seems to be Hawthorne's
birthplace,--all my attention was concentrated on the _style_, which
seems to me excellent.

"The most striking book which has been recently published here is
'Villette,' by the authoress of 'Jane Eyre,' who, as you know, is a
Miss Bronte. The book does not give one the most pleasing notion of
the authoress, perhaps, but it is very clever, graphic, vigorous. It
is 'man's meat,' and not the whipped syllabub, which is _all_ froth,
without any jam at the bottom. The scene of the drama is Brussels.

"I was sorry to hear of poor Willis. Our critics here were too
severe upon him....

"The Frost King (vulg. Jack Frost) has come down upon us with all
his might. Banished from the pleasant shores of Boston, he has come
with his cold scythe and ice pincers to our undefended little
island, and is tyrannizing in every corner and over every part of
every person. Nothing is too great for him, nothing too mean. He
condescends even to lay hold of the nose (an offence for which any
one below the dignity of a King--or a President--would be kicked.)
As for me I have taken refuge in

"A SONG WITH A MORAL.

"When the winter bloweth loud,
And the earth is in a shroud,
Frozen rain or sleety snow
Dimming every dream below,--
There is e'er a spot of green
Whence the heavens may be seen.

"When our purse is shrinking fast,
And our friend is lost, (the last!)
And the world doth pour its pain,
Sharper than the frozen rain,--
There is still a spot of green
Whence the heavens may be seen.