after their companionship, which can for a moment be put in
comparison with such joy. Thus it almost seemed strange to me when,
in a letter the other day from Willy to Edward, in reference to
his--E's--future destination--Willy rather urged upon him a home,
domestic life, on _my_ account, as my sons were already so scattered.
As I say, those loving words seemed strange to me; because I have
such an overpowering feeling that the all-in-all to me is that my
sons should be in just that vocation in life most suited to them,
and most bringing out what is highest and best in them; whether it
might be in England, or at the furthest extremity of the world.

* * * * *

_November 24, 1848._--I have been unwell for some days, dearest Tom,
and this makes me less active in all my usual employments, but it
shall not, if I can help it, prevent my making some progress in this
letter, which in less than a week may perhaps be on its way to New
Zealand. I have just sent Fan down-stairs, for she nurses her Mother
till I begin to think some change good for her. She has been reading
aloud to me, and now, as the evening advances I have asked some of
them to read to me a long poem by Clough--(the "Bothie") which I
have no doubt will reach you. It does not _look_ attractive to me,
for it is in English Hexameters, which are to me very cumbrous and
uninviting; but probably that may be for some want of knowledge in
my own ear and taste. The poem is addressed to his pupils of last
summer, and in scenery, etc., will have, I suppose, many touches
from his Highland residence; but, in a brief Preface, he says that
the tale itself is altogether fiction.

* * * * *