has had stronger
motives to hold by. Now may I not tell you that his genius, and all
but miraculous attainments, are the least things in him, the moral
nature being of the very noblest, as all who ever knew him admit? Then
he has had that wide experience of men which ends by throwing the mind
back on itself and God; there is nothing incomplete in him, except
as all humanity is incompleteness. The only wonder is how such a man,
whom any woman could have loved, should have loved _me_; but men of
genius, you know, are apt to love with their imagination. Then there
is something in the sympathy, the strange, straight sympathy which
unites us on all subjects. If it were not that I look up to him, we
should be too alike to be together perhaps, but I know my place better
than he does, who is too humble. Oh, you cannot think how well we
get on after six weeks of marriage. If I suffer again it will not be
through _him_. Some day, dearest Mrs. Martin, I will show you and dear
Mr. Martin how his _prophecy was fulfilled_, saving some picturesque
particulars. I did not know before that Saul was among the prophets.

My poor husband suffered very much from the constraint imposed on him
by my position, and did, for the first time in his life, for my sake
do that in secret which he could not speak upon the housetops. _Mea
culpa_ all of it! If one of us two is to be blamed, it is I, at whose
representation of circumstances he submitted to do violence to his
own self-respect. I would not suffer him to tell even our dear common
friend Mr. Kenyon. I felt that it would be throwing on dear Mr. Kenyon
a painful responsibility, and involve him in the blame ready to fall.
And dear dear Mr. Kenyon, like the noble, generous friend I love so
deservedly, comprehends all at a word, sends us _not_ his forgiveness,
but his sympathy, his affection, the kindest words which can be
written! I cannot tell you all his inexpressible kindness to us both.
He justifies us to the uttermost, and, in that, all the grateful
attachment we had, each on our side, so long professed towards him.
Indeed, in a note I had from him yesterday, he uses this strong
expression after gladly speaking of our successful journey: 'I
considered that you had _perilled your life_ upon this undertaking,
and, reflecting upon your last position, I thought that _you had done
well_.' But my life was not perilled in the journey. The agitation and
fatigue were evils, to be sure, and Mrs. Jameso