29th Sept. 1868.
My Dear Doctor,
I have sent you a couple of canvasses—if you put little Clara's head on one of them, you will immortalize her and yourself too.
Also therewith you will find a Surplice, and if you will only "hold forth," next Sunday, in the Grande Place of Colyton—I will guarantee to say that the simplicity of yr. vestment and the flowing eloquence of yr. tongue will draw out—(as irresistibly as the Piper did the children) the congregations of the "High" Church and the Conventicles which will—one and all—rush forth for to see and to hear, and admiringly surround you!—If windy, you might take this for yr. text—"What went ye forth for to see?—" A reed shaken by the wind? &c., &c.
There must have been a splendid Sea on at Sea-ton, these last few days,—tons of sea, eh? As "I took my walk abroad" this morning—I saw the Serpentine in all its grandeur—and observed several vessels in distress—some clipper yachts on their beam ends—the waves were prodigious—great rollers—two especially—one a six horse fellow—t'other a steamer—crunching and grinding—levelling and sweeping all before them!
Have you seen the Doge of Colyton yet? or any of the Dog-es?
By all means cultivate the acquaintance of the Doge's kinswoman. Miss P—— (pray give my love to her)—fac-similed on the stage or in a novel, she would be a "tremendous hit."