from the rules of his profession, ignored the rights due to a patient, and made public particulars which he, at least, should have kept private. Alluding to these circumstances in a letter subsequent to the above. Miss Barrett says: "Miss Martineau is astonishing the world with mesmeric statements through the medium of the Athenæum—and yet, it happens so that, I believe, few converts will be made by her. The medical men have taken up her glove brutally—as dogs might do—dogs, exclusive of my Flush, who is a gentleman." Later on she writes, "I hear that Carlyle won't believe in mesmerism, and calls Harriet Martineau mad. 'The madness showed itself first in the refusal of a pension; next, in the resolution that, the universe being desirous of reading her letters, the universe should be disappointed; and thirdly, in this creed of mesmerism.' I wish (if he ever did use such words) somebody would tell him that the first manifestation, at least, was of a noble phrenzy, which in these latter days is not too likely to prove contagious. For my own part, I am not afraid to say that I almost believe in mesmerism, and quite believe in Harriet Martineau."
Miss Mitford's correspondence with our poetess was very voluminous during the greater part of 1844 and 1845, but little of personal incident enters into it. The elder lady was enchanted to learn that Miss Barrett intended in future "to write narrative poetry, and narrative poetry of real life," and endeavoured to arouse in her mind, but with scant success, an admiration for the first Napoleon.
That in literature, if in nothing else, woman should not only compete with man on an equal footing, but be judged by a similar measure, is a truth all right-
