As for that unknown but thrice-blest Jackson, Henry Jackson of Trinity (_dulcissimum mundi nomen_)--is that the way he always acts, or is he only so towards _me_? I thank him from the bottom of my heart, and swear an eternal friendship with him. If ever he is in need of meat, drink, advice or defence, let him henceforth know to whom to apply--purse, house, life, all shall be at his disposal. Such a magnanimous heart as his was ne'er known before. I wish I knew his _Fach_! But my ignorance is too encyclopedic. He must be a very great philosopher. Goddard shall have some of the stuff.--Of course you mean George Goddard--I know him well. This has been written in the midst of interruptions. I am back in Cambridge for only a couple of days, to send furniture up to my New Hampshire farmlet. You may play the swell, but I play the yeoman. Which is the better and more godly life? Surely the latter. The mother earth is in my finger-nails and my back is aching and my skin sweating with the ache and sweat of Father Adam and all his _normal_ descendants. No matter! Swells and artists have their place too. Farewell! I am called off again by the furniture. Remember me! And as for the divine Henry Jackson, thank him again and again. His ale is royal stuff. I will make no comparisons between his and yours. Ever affectionately yours, WM. JAMES. * * * * * In explanation of the next letters, it should be said that in 1888 it seemed advisable to get the children into a warmer winter climate than that of Cambridge. Accordingly Mrs. James carried the three ("Harry," "Billy," and "Margaret Mary," aged respectively eight, five, and two years), and a German governess off to Aiken, South Carolina, for three months. James was thus left in the Garden Street house with no other member of the family except--for he counted as one--a small pug-dog named Jap. Dr. Hildreth, who is referred to, was a next-door neighbor, whose children were somewhat older than the James children. _To his Son Henry (age 8)._ CAMBRIDGE, _Mar. 1, 1888_.