announcement of this new production from my pen. The manuscript is
exceptionally clear, even for me who do not as a male write a very
bad scrawl--so that you can scarcely have much bother with the
proof-correcting--though even were this the case, and the printers
turned out to be incorrigible blockheads and blunderers, I know
you would grudge neither time nor trouble expended in my service.
Good Frank Villiers! how much I owe you!--and yet I willingly
incur another debt of gratitude by placing this matter in your
hands, and am content to borrow more of your friendship, but only
believe me, in order to repay it again with the truest interest!
By the way, do you remember when we visited the last Paris Salon
together, how fascinated we were by one picture--the head of a
monk whose eyes looked out like a veritable illumination from
under the folds of a drooping white cowl? ... and on referring to
our catalogues we found it described as the portrait of one
'Heliobas,' an Eastern mystic, a psychist formerly well known in
Paris, but since retired into monastic life? Well! I have
discovered him here; he is apparently the Superior or chief of
this Order--though what Order it is and when founded is more than
I can tell. There are fifteen monks altogether, living contentedly
in this old, half-ruined habitation among the barren steeps of the
frozen Caucasus,--splendid, princely looking fellows all of them,
Heliobas himself being an exceptionally fine specimen of his race.
I have just dined with the whole community, and have been fairly
astonished by the fluent brilliancy and wit of their conversation.
They speak all languages. English included, and no subject comes
amiss to them, for they are familiar with the latest political
situations in all countries,--they know all about the newest
scientific discoveries (which, by-the-by, they smile at blandly,
as though these last were mere child's play), and they discuss our