NOVEMBER 107 



seems to me true of private individuals, as well as of 



those who have played a notable or distinguished part 



on life's stage. But this is not the general opinion — to 



which I, being only a prudent old woman, am content to 



bow — and once more return to the box this touching, 



interesting, and characteristic love-story of my father 



and mother. I find, however, one letter written by my 



father, and dated 1834, which is so impersonal and so 



different from the ordinary love-letter to a young girl 



that I think it can appear an indiscretion to no one that 



I should publish it. 



They met for the first time, by chance, on a summer's 



afternoon for a little over an hour, and so completely 



was it love at first sight on his side that he told my 



mother afterwards he would gladly have married her 



there and then had it been possible. She belonged to 



a Tory family, so bigoted and narrow in their ideas that 



they could hardly find a parallel in our day ; and on to 



this training, with her hatred for worldliness and with 



all the enthusiasm of her youthful aspirations, she had 



grafted an almost Methodistical view of the duties of a 



Christian. His views, on the other hand, were on all 



points those of an advanced Liberal of the early days of 



John Stuart Mill. Circumstances kept them apart for 



four years, and at the end of three, after an accidental 



meeting, he wrote her the following letter. With all 



its humility, one can easily see that his object was the 



enlightenment of a mind which had been narrowed by 



its training : 



' Sunday night, July, 1834. 



'Pray do not think I mean to force another letter 

 upon you. Your word is law to me, and I feel too deeply 

 obliged to you for all you have so kindly and generously 

 risked, in order to afford me the gratification of hearing 

 from you, to think of going myself or endeavouring to 



