DEAR JOHN,--A week ago I learnt from the "Nation"--strange to have heard it in no directer way!--that dear old John Ropes had turned his back on us and all this mortal tragi-comedy. No sooner does one get abroad than that sort of thing begins. I am deeply grieved to think of never seeing or hearing old J. C. R. again, with his manliness, good-fellowship, and cheeriness, and idealism of the right sort, and can't hold in any longer from expression. You, dear John, seem the only fitting person for me to condole with, for you will miss him most tremendously. Pray write and tell me some details of the manner of his death. I hope he didn't suffer much. Write also of your own personal and family fortunes and give my love to the members of our dining club collectively and individually, when you next meet. I have myself been shut up in a sick room for five weeks past, seeing hardly anyone but my wife and the doctor, a bad state of the heart being the cause. We shall be at West Malvern in ten days, where I hope to begin to mend. Hurrah for Henry Higginson and his gift[26] to the University! I think the Club cannot fail to be useful if they make it democratic enough. I hope that Roland is enjoying Washington, but not so far transubstantiated into a politician as to think that McKinley & Co. are the high-water mark of human greatness up to date. John Ropes, more than most men, seems as if he would be natural to meet again. Please give our love to Mrs. Gray, and believe me, affectionately yours, Wm. James. _To Miss Frances R. Morse._ LAMB HOUSE, _Dec. 23, 1899_. DEAREST FANNY,--About a week ago I found myself thinking a good deal about you.