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February 1876 There is so much that is tenderly profane in even the sacredest Human Life - that perhaps it is instinct and not design, that dissuades us from it.
The Treason of an accentIt makes me happy to send you the Book. Thank you for accepting it, and please not to own "Daniel Deronda" till I bring it, when it is done. You ask me if I see any one-Judge Lord was with me a week in October and I talked with Father's Clergyman once, and once with Mr Bowles. Little-wayfaring acts-comprise my "pursuits"-and a few moments at night, for Books-after the rest sleep. Candor-my Preceptor- is the only wile. Did you not teach me that yourself, in the "Prelude" to "Malbone"? You once told me of "printing but a few Poems." I hoped it implied you possessed more ------- Would you show me-one? You asked me if I liked the cold-but it is warm now. A mellow Rain is falling. It wont be ripe till April- How luscious is the dripping of Febuary eaves! It makes our thinking Pink- It antedates the Robin-Bereaving in prospective that Febuary leaves ------- Thank you for speaking kindly. I often go Home in thought to you. Your Scholar-
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