The "London" must do without me for a time, for I have lost all
interest about it; and whether I shall recover it again I know not. I
will bridle my pen another time, and not tease and puzzle you with my
aridities. I shall begin to feel a little more alive with the spring.
Winter is to me (mild or harsh) always a great trial of the spirits. I
am ashamed not to have noticed your tribute to Woolman, whom we love so
much; it is done in your good manner. Your friend Tayler called upon me
some time since, and seems a very amiable man. His last story is
painfully fine. His book I "like;" it is only too stuffed with
Scripture, too parsonish. The best thing in it is the boy's own story.
When I say it is too full of Scripture, I mean it is too full of direct
quotations; no book can have too much of silent Scripture in it. But the
natural power of a story is diminished when the uppermost purpose in the
writer seems to be to recommend something else,--namely, Religion. You
know what Horace says of the _Deus intersit_? I am not able to explain
myself,--you must do it for me. My sister's part in the "Leicester
School" (about two thirds) was purely her own; as it was (to the same
quantity) in the "Shakspeare Tales" which bear my name. I wrote only the
"Witch Aunt," the "First Going to Church," and the final story about "A
little Indian girl" in a ship.
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