know whether I can read
through the Wars and Battles, which are said to be very fine.

The piece of Literature I really could benefit Posterity with, I do
believe, is an edition of that wonderful and aggravating Clarissa
Harlowe; and this I would effect with a pair of Scissors only. It would
not be a bit too long as it is, if it were all equally good; but pedantry
comes in, and might, I think, be cleared away, leaving the remainder one
of _the great_, _original_, _Works of the World_! in this Line. Lovelace
is the wonderful character, for Wit: and there is some grand Tragedy too.
And nobody reads it! Ever yours,

E. F. G.

_To Mrs. Cowell_.

[1865].

MY DEAR LADY,

I answer you thus directly because I would stick in a Bit of a Letter
from Thompson of Cambridge: which relates to a question I asked him weeks
ago, as I told E. B. C. I would.

You must not think I was in a hurry to have my Play praised: I was really
fearful of its being bombastic. You are so enthusiastic in your old and
kind Regards and Memories that I can scarce rely on you for a cool
Judgment in the matter. But I gather from E. B. C. that he was not
struck with what I doubted: and I am very glad, at any rate, that you are
very well pleased, both of you.

E. B. C. is quite right about obscurity of Phrase: which is inexcusable
unless where the Passion of the Speakers makes such utterance natural.
This is very often not the case in the Plays, I know: and the Language,
as he says, becomes obscure from elaborate Brevity.

What you tell of the Music in the Air at your Father's Death--Oh, how
Frederic Tennyson would open all his Eyes at this! For he lives in a
World of Spirits--Swedenborg's World, which you would not approve; which
I cannot sympathize with: but yet I admire the Titanic old Soul so
resolutely blind to the Philosophy of the Day.

Oh, I think England would be much better for E. B. C. and you: but I
can't say anything against what he thinks the Duty chalked out for him. I
don't believe the English Rule will hold in India: but, meanwhile, a good
Man may think he must do what Good he can there, come what may of it.
There is also Good to be done in England!

The Wind is still very 'stingy' though the Sun shines, and though it
blows from the West. So we are all better at our homes for the present.

Ever yours, E. F. G.

_To W. B. Donne_.

RAMSGATE: _August_ 27, [1865].

MY DEAR DONNE,

Your letter found me here, where I ha