1850 HIS AIMS AND PROSPECTS 69 



I am under no one's patronage, nor do I ever mean to be. I 

 have never asked, and I never will ask, any man for his help 

 from mere motives of friendship. If any man thinks that I am 

 capable of forwarding the great cause in ever so small a way, 

 let him just give me a helping hand and I will thank him, but 

 if not, he is doing both himself and me harm in offering it, and 

 if it should be necessary for me to find public expression to my 

 thoughts on any matter, I have clearly made up my mind to 

 do so, witliout allowing myself to be influenced by hope of gain 

 or weight of authority. 



There are many nice people in this world for whose praise or 

 blame I care not a whistle. I don't know and I don't care whether 

 I shall ever be what is called a great man. I will leave my mark 



somewhere, and it shall be clear and distinct T. H. H., his mark. 



and free from the abominable blur of cant, humbug, and self- 

 seeking which surrounds everything in this present world — that 

 is to say, supposing that I am not already unconsciously tainted 

 myself, a result of which I have a morbid dread. I am perhaps 

 overrating myself. You must put me in mind of my better 

 self, as you did in your last letter, when you write. 



But I must come to the close of my epistle, as I have one to 

 enclose from my mother. My next shall be longer, and I hope I 

 shall then be able to tell you what I am doing. At any rate I 

 hope to be in England for twelve months. 



I am very much ashamed of myself for not having written to 

 you for so long — open confession is good for the soul, they say, 

 and I will honestly confess that I was half puzzled, half piqued, 

 and altogether sulky at your not having answered my last letter 

 containing my love story, of which I wrote you an account be- 

 fore anybody. You must not suppose my affection was a bit the 

 less because I was half angry. Nettie, who knows you well, 

 could tell you otherwise. Indeed, now that I know all, I con- 

 sider myself a great brute, and I will give you leave, if you will 

 but write soon, to scold me as much as you like. All the family 

 are well. My father is the only one who is much altered, and 

 that in mind and strength, not in bodily health, which is very 

 good. My mother has lost her front teeth, but is otherwise just 

 the same amusing, nervous, distressingly active old lady she 

 always was. 



Our cruisers visit New Orleans sometimes, and if ever I am 

 on the West India station, who knows, I may take a run up to 

 see you all. Kindest love to the children. Tell Florry that I 



