In December, 1883, he offers "The Dewy Morn." The proposal came to nothing. The book was published in the following year by Messrs. Chapman and Hall. In February, 1884, he speaks of a letter written to him by Lord Ebrington, master of the Devon and Somerset staghounds, upon his "Red Deer." Certain small errors were pointed out for correction, but, as he points out with satisfaction, no serious omission or fault had been discovered. In a letter written in March he mentions that an anonymous correspondent has been scourging him with Scripture texts on account of the "Story of My Heart." That anonymous correspondent! How he lieth in wait for everybody! how omniscient he is! how unsparing! how certain and sure of everything! The texts which this person used to belabour poor Jefferies were, however, singularly inappropriate. "O Lord," he quotes, "how glorious are Thy works! Thy thoughts are very deep. An unwise man doth not consider this, and a FOOL doth not understand it." The word "fool" was doubly underlined, so that there should be no mistake as to the practical application of the passage. The anonymous correspondent is, indeed, always very particular on this point. But Jefferies had been all his life commenting on the glory of those works, and endeavouring to apprehend and to realize, if only a little, the meaning and the depth of these thoughts. The cry of his heart all through the book is for fuller insight--for a deeper understanding. He goes on to speak of his illness. It is not, he says, at all serious; but it will make him go to London to see a physician, and it is likely to prevent him from getting about. There is a paper (not one of these letters) among his literary remains, in which he describes the symptoms at length. In April he writes a long letter about many things, but especially his "After London." "I have just put the finishing touch to my new book. It is in three volumes." As published by Cassell and Co. it was in one volume, and it leaves off with the story only half told. Perhaps the author cut it down, perhaps the publishers refused to bring it out unless as a short one-volume work. "It is called," he says, "'After London,' with a second title, 'Chronicles of the House of Aquila.' The first part describes the relapse of England into barbarism; how the roads are covered with grass, how the brambles extend over the fields, and in time woods occupy the country. These woods are filled with wild animals--descendants of the dogs, cats, swine, horses, and cattle that were left, and gradually returned to their original wild nature. The rivers are choked, and a great lake forms in the centre of the island.