Dickens Writes That An Event, "began To

For The Night-wind Has A Dismal Trick Of Wandering Round And Round A Building Of That Sort, And Moaning As It Goes; And Of Trying, With Its Unseen Hand, The Windows And The Doors; And Seeking Out Some Crevices By Which To Enter.

I Wish You To Know That You Have Been The Last Dream Of My Soul...since I Knew You, I Have Been Troubled By A Remorse That I Thought Would Never Reproach Me Again, And Have Heard Whispers From Old Voices Impelling Me Upward, That I Thought Were Silent For Ever. I Have Had Unformed Ideas Of Striving Afresh, Beginning Anew, Shaking Off Sloth And Sensuality, And Fighting Out The Abandoned Fight. A Dream, All A Dream, That Ends In Nothing, And Leaves The Sleeper Where He Lay Down, But I Wish You To Know That You Inspired It.

May I Tell You Why It Seems To Me A Good Thing For Us To Remember Wrong That Has Been Done Us? That We May Forgive It.

The One Great Principle Of The English Law Is, To Make Business For Itself. There Is No Other Principle Distinctly, Certainly, And Consistently Maintained Through All Its Narrow Turnings. Viewed By This Light It Becomes A Coherent Scheme, And Not The Monstrous Maze The Laity Are Apt To Think It. Let Them But Once Clearly Perceive That Its Grand Principle Is To Make Business For Itself At Their Expense, And Surely They Will Cease To Grumble.

The Meagre Lighthouse All In White, Haunting The Seaboard, As If It Were The Ghost Of An Edifice That Had Once Had Colour And Rotundity, Dripped Melancholy Tears After Its Late Buffeting By The Waves.