e pen, that always
comes in for the shame,--but given up, and replaced by the poor forms
to which a pen is equal; and a glad minute I should account _that_, in
which you collected and accepted _those_ 'promises'--because they
would not be all so unworthy of me--much less you! I would receive, in
virtue of _them_, the ascription of whatever worthiness is supposed to
lie in deep, truest love, and gratitude--

Read my silent answer there too!

All your letter is one comfort: we will be happy this winter, and
after, do not fear. I am most happy, to begin, that your brother is so
much better: he must be weak and susceptible of cold, remember.

It was on my lip, I do think, _last_ visit, or the last but one, to
beg you to detach those papers from the _Athenaeum's gachis_. Certainly
this opportunity is _most_ favourable, for every reason: you cannot
hesitate, surely. At present those papers are lost--_lost_ for
practical purposes. Do pray reply without fail to the proposers; no,
no harm of these really fine fellows, who _could_ do harm (by printing
incorrect copies, and perhaps eking out the column by suppositious
matter ... ex-gr. they strengthened and lengthened a book of Dickens',
in Paris, by adding quant. suff. of Thackeray's 'Yellowplush Papers'
... as I discovered by a Parisian somebody praising the latter to me
as Dickens' best work!)--and who _do_ really a good straightforward
un-American thing. You will encourage 'the day of small
things'--though this is not small, nor likely to have small results. I
shall be impatient to hear that you have decided. I like the progress
of these Americans in taste, their amazing leaps, like grasshoppers up
to the sun--from ... what is the '_from_,' what depth, do you
remember, say, ten or twelve years back?--_to_--Carlyle, and Tennyson,
and you! So children leave off Jack of Cornwall and go on just to
Homer.

I can't conceive why my proof does not come--I must go to-morrow and
see. In the other, I have corrected all the points you noted, to their
evident improvement. Yesterday I took out 'Luria' and read it
through--the skeleton--I shall hope to finish it soon now. It is for a
purely imaginary stage,--very simple and straightforward. Would you
... no, Act by Act, as I was about to propose that you should read it;
that process would affect the oneness I most wish to preserve.

On Tuesday--at last, I am with you. Till when be with me ever,
dearest--God bless you ever--