alists. I need not tell you, dearest H----, how much I
regret this, because you will know how deeply I must disapprove of
it. I might have thought any young man Quixotic who thus mistook a
restless, turbulent spirit, eager to embrace a quarrel not his own,
for patriotism and self-devotion to a sacred cause; but in my
brother, who had professed aims and purposes so opposed to tumult
and war and bloodshed, it seems to me a subject of much more
serious regret. Heaven only knows what plans he has formed for the
future! His present situation affords anxiety enough to warrant our
not looking further in anticipation of vexation, but even if the
present be regarded with the best hope of success in his
undertaking, the natural consideration must be, as far as he is
concerned, "What follows?" It is rather a melancholy consideration
that such abilities should be wasted and misapplied. Our own
country is in a perilous state of excitement, and these troubled
times make politicians of us all. Of course the papers will have
informed you of the risings in Kent and Sussex; London itself is in
an unquiet state that suggests the heaving of a volcano before an
eruption. It is said that the Duke of Wellington must resign; I am
ignorant, but it appears to me that whenever he does it will be a
bad day's work for England. The alarm and anxiety of the
aristocracy is extreme, and exhibits itself, even as I have had
opportunity of observing in society, in the half-angry,
half-frightened tone of their comments on public events. If one did
not sympathize with their apprehensions, their mode of expressing
them would sometimes be amusing.

The aspect of public affairs is injurious to the theater, and these
graver interests thin our houses while they crowd the houses of
Parliament. However, when we played "The Provoked Husband" before
the king and queen the other night, the theater was crammed from
floor to ceiling, and presented a most beautiful _coup d'oeil_. I
have just come out in Mrs. Haller. It seems to have pleased the
people very much. I need not tell you how much I dislike the play;
it is the quintessence of trashy sentimentalism; but our audiences
cry and sob at it till we can hardly hear ourselves speak on the
stage, and the public in general rejoices in what the servan