a faithless and unbelieving generation--yes, that
it will live like one of your toads, for a thousand years in the heart
of a rock. All men can teach at second or third hand, as you said ...
by prompting the foremost rows ... by tradition and translation:--all,
_except_ poets, who must preach their own doctrine and sing their own
song, to be the means of any wisdom or any music, and therefore have
stricter duties thrust upon them, and may not lounge in the [Greek:
stoa] like the conversation-teachers. So much I have to say to you,
till we are in the Siren's island--and _I_, jealous of the Siren!--

The Siren waits thee singing song for song,

says Mr. Landor. A prophecy which refuses to class you with the 'mute
fishes,' precisely as I do.

And are you not my 'good'--all my good now--my only good ever? The
Italians would say it better without saying more.

I had a letter from Miss Martineau this morning who accounts for her
long silence by the supposition,--put lately to an end by scarcely
credible information from Mr. Moxon, she says--that I was out of
England; gone to the South from the 20th of September. She calls
herself the strongest of women, and talks of 'walking fifteen miles
one day and writing fifteen pages another day without fatigue,'--also
of mesmerizing and of being infinitely happy except in the continued
alienation of two of her family who cannot forgive her for getting
well by such unlawful means. And she is to write again to tell me of
Wordsworth, and promises to send me her new work in the meanwhile--all
very kind.

So here is my letter to you, which you asked for so 'against the
principles of universal justice.' Yes, very unjust--very unfair it
was--only, you make me do just as you like in everything. Now confess
to your own conscience that even if I had not a lawful claim of a debt
against you, I might come to ask charity with another sort of claim,
oh 'son of humanity.' Think how much more need of a letter _I_ have
than you can have; and that if you have a giant's power, ''tis
tyrannous to use it like a giant.' Who would take tribute from the
desert? How I grumble. _Do_ let me have a letter directly! remember
that no other light comes to my windows, and that I wait 'as those who
watch for the morning'--'lux mea!'

May God bless you--and mind to say how you are _exactly_, and don't
neglect the walking, _pray_ do not.

Your own

And af