As to the article in _Macmillan_, I don't in the least deny its value as far as it goes and _quo ad_ the public; it is in that sense very gratifying to be spoken of in such flattering terms in a periodical of some standing, but I can't individually feel much elated at the praise of a critic who in other parts of his article shows he is not _au fond_ a judge; as for what he says in _interpretation_ (I am not now alluding to the _praise_), it is so verbatim what I said myself to those who visited my studio, that I suspect he must have been of that number. I remember, it is true, telling you _before_ I began to paint "Lieder ohne Worte" that I intended to make it _realistic_, but from the first moment I began I felt the mistake, and made it professedly and pointedly the reverse. I don't think, however, that we understand the word realistic alike; the Fisherman and Syren which you quote was as little naturalistic as anything could be, and, while you urge me to take up some subject possessing that quality, I would point out that the Michael Angelo and the Peacock Girl both fulfil that condition--to _my_ mind _to a fault_. I have sent in (or am about to) a formula which I received to fill up, stating what I would contribute to the Great Exhibition of 1862 (International). I have offered the Cimabue, four "Nannas," the "Lieder ohne Worte," "Francesca," and the "Syren." I have obtained permission for all. _Translation._] 2 ORME SQUARE, BAYSWATER, _30th April 1861_. MY DEAR FRIEND AND MASTER,--When I last wrote you I promised in the spring to send you photographs of my pictures for the exhibition. I have just received some prints and hasten to enclose them. One of them (the girl by the fountain) gives, as is so often the case, an entirely false impression of the picture, in that the drapery of the principal figure should be much darker, and that of the retreating figure much lighter. I have called this picture "Lieder ohne Worte." It represents a girl, who is resting by a fountain, and listening to the ripple of the water and the song of a bird. This subject is, of course, quite incomplete without colour, as I have endeavoured, both by colour and by flowing delicate forms, to translate to the eye of the spectator something of the pleasure which the child receives through her ears. This idea lies at the base of the whole thing, and is conveyed to the best of my ability in every detail, so that in the dead photograph one loses exactly half, also the dulling of the eyes, which are dark blue in the picture, gives a look of weakness in the photograph that is not quite pleasant.