Surely, surely, wrong was done somewhere, when the worst is admitted of Haydon.

For himself, looking forward beyond the grave, I seem to understand that all things when most bitter worked ultimate good to him, for that sublime arrogance of his would have been fatal perhaps to the moral nature if developed further by success.

But for the nation we had our duties, and we should not suffer our teachers and originators to sink thus.

It is a book written in blood of the heart.

Poor Haydon! May God bless you, my dear friend! I think of you and love you dearly, Robert's love, put to mine, and Penini's love put to Robert's.