I hold it to be my duty to do what I can for the cases of distress of which I have direct knowledge; and I am glad to be able now and then to give timely aid to the industrious and worthy people with whom, as a householder, I am brought into personal relation; and who are so often engaged in a noiseless and unpitied but earnest struggle to do well.
In my judgment, a domestic servant, who is perhaps giving half her wages to support her old parents, is more worthy of help than half-a-dozen Magdalens.
Under these circumstances, you will understand that such funds as are at my disposal are already fully engaged.
[The following is to a gentleman—an American, I think—who sent him a long manuscript, an extraordinary farrago of nonsense, to read and criticise, and help to publish. But as he seemed to have acted in sheer simplicity, he got an answer:—]
Hodeslea, January 31, 1895.
Dear Sir,
I should have been glad if you had taken the ordinary, and, I think, convenient course of writing for my permission before you sent the essay which has reached me, and which I return by this post. I should then have had the opportunity of telling you that I do not undertake to read, or take any charge of such matters, and we should both have been spared some trouble.
I the more regret this, since being unwilling to return your work without examination, I have looked at it, and feel bound to give you the following piece of advice, which I fear may be distasteful, as good counsel generally is.
Lock up your essay. For two years—if possible, three—read no popular expositions of science, but devote yourself to a course of sound PRACTICAL instruction in elementary physics, chemistry, and biology.
Then re-read your essay; do with it as you think best; and, if possible, regard a little more kindly than you are likely to do at present, yours faithfully,