y go to see them overcome. If I am in
danger of falling off a scaffold or a ladder any day, the man who claims
that he can't fall from anything is a very wonderful and agreeable
person to me.

Faithfully yours always.

[Sidenote: Mr. Henry F. Chorley.]

16, HYDE PARK GATE, SOUTH KENSINGTON GORE, W.,
_Saturday, 1st March, 1862._

MY DEAR CHORLEY,

I was at your lecture[73] this afternoon, and I hope I may venture to
tell you that I was extremely pleased and interested. Both the matter of
the materials and the manner of their arrangement were quite admirable,
and a modesty and complete absence of any kind of affectation pervaded
the whole discourse, which was quite an example to the many whom it
concerns. If you could be a very little louder, and would never let a
sentence go for the thousandth part of an instant until the last word
is out, you would find the audience more responsive.

A spoken sentence will never run alone in all its life, and is never to
be trusted to itself in its most insignificant member. See it _well
out_--with the voice--and the part of the audience is made surprisingly
easier. In that excellent description of the Spanish mendicant and his
guitar, as well as the very happy touches about the dance and the
castanets, the people were really desirous to express very hearty
appreciation; but by giving them rather too much to do in watching and
listening for latter words, you stopped them. I take the liberty of
making the remark, as one who has fought with beasts (oratorically) in
divers arenas. For the rest nothing could be better. Knowledge,
ingenuity, neatness, condensation, good sense, and good taste in
delightful combination.

Affectionately always.

[Sidenote: Mrs. Austin.]

PARIS, RUE DU FAUBOURG ST. HONORE, 27,
_Friday, Seventh November, 1862._

MY DEAR LETITIA,

I should have written to you from here sooner, but for having been
constantly occupied.

Your improved account of yourself is very cheering and hopeful. Through
determined occupation and action, lies the way. Be sure of it.

I came over to France before Georgina and Mary, and went to Boulogne to
meet them coming in by the steamer on the great Sunday--the day of the
storm. I stood (holding on with both hands) on the pier at