I mean to observe your warning about being careful how I undertake new works; my stock of materials is not abundant, but very slender; and besides, neither my experience, my acquirements, nor my powers, are sufficiently varied to justify my ever becoming a frequent writer. I tell you this, because your article in _Fraser_ left in me an uneasy impression that you were disposed to think better of the author of _Jane Eyre_ than that individual deserved; and I would rather you had a correct than a flattering opinion of me, even though I should never see you. If I ever _do_ write another book, I think I will have nothing of what you call 'melodrama'; I _think_ so, but I am not sure. I _think_, too, I will endeavour to follow the counsel which shines out of Miss Austen's 'mild eyes', 'to finish more and be more subdued'; but neither am I sure of that. When authors write best, or at least, when they write most fluently, an influence seems to waken in them, which becomes their master--which will have its own way--putting out of view all behests but its own, dictating certain words, and insisting on their being used, whether vehement or measured in their nature; new-moulding characters, giving unthought-of turns to incidents, rejecting carefully-elaborated old ideas, and suddenly creating and adopting new ones. Is it not so? And should we try to counteract this influence? Can we indeed counteract it? * * * * * Why do you like Miss Austen so very much? I am puzzled on that point. What induced you to say that you would have rather written _Pride and Prejudice_, or _Tom Jones_, than any of the Waverley Novels? I had not seen _Pride and Prejudice_ till I read that sentence of yours, and then I got the book. And what did I find? An accurate, daguerreotyped portrait of a commonplace face; a carefully-fenced, highly-cultivated garden, with neat borders and delicate flowers; but no glance of a bright, vivid physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue hill, no bonny beck. I should hardly like to live with her ladies and gentlemen, in their elegant but confined houses. These observations will probably irritate you, but I shall run the risk. Now I can understand admiration of George Sand; for though I never saw any of her works which I admired throughout (even _Consuelo_, which is the best, or the best that I have read, appears to me to couple strange extravagance with wondrous excellence), yet she has a grasp of mind, which, if I cannot fully comprehend, I can very deeply respect; she is sagacious and profound;--Miss Austen is only shrewd and observant. Am I wrong--or, were you hasty in what you said? If you have time, I should be glad to hear further on this subject; if not, or if you think the questions frivolous, do not trouble yourself to reply. TO THE SAME _The argument continued_ 18 _Jan_. 1848. Dear Sir,