and that I myself should be in a specially embarrassing position. Mill
was not to be moved. This was a question of principle, and on
principle he could not give way. There was nothing left, therefore,
but resort to a species of force. I arranged with Messrs. Elkington
that our little testimonial should be taken down to Mr. Mill's house
at Blackheath by one of their men, who, after leaving it with the
servant, should hurry away without waiting for an answer. This plan
succeeded; but I have always suspected, though she never told me so,
that its success was mainly due to Miss Helen Taylor's good offices.
But for her, the inkstand would almost certainly have been returned,
instead of being promoted, as it eventually was, to a place of honor
in her own and her father's drawing-room.

Mine is scarcely just now the mood in which I should have been
naturally disposed to relate anecdotes like this; but, in the
execution of my present task, I have felt bound chiefly to consider
what would be likely to interest the reader.

W.T. THORNTON.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] I may be permitted here, without Mr. Thornton's
knowledge, to recall a remark made by Mr. Mill only a few
weeks ago. We were speaking of Mr. Thornton's recently
published "Old-fashioned Ethics and Common-Sense
Metaphysics," when I remarked on Mr. Mill's wide divergence
from most of the views contained in it. "Yes," he replied,
"it is pleasant to find _something_ on which to differ from
Thornton." Mr. Mill's prompt recognition of the importance