University of Virginia Library

It is surely unnecessary to call the attention
of so astute an observer, and so austere a critic,
as yourself, to the fact that the title of the leading
essay in this little volume (of which, permit
me to say, you are so essential an ornament) is
marked as a quotation; and a quotation, as you
will very well remember, from the lips of our
friend, Mrs. Potiphar, herself.

Therefore, Rev. Sir, your judgment, which,
you must allow me to say, is no less impartial
than your experience is profound, will suggest
to you that the subject of that essay (of the
points of which the succeeding sketches are but

elaborations) is the aspect of what is currently
termed “our best society”—whether with reason
or not, is beside the purpose.

Your pastoral charity, I am convinced, will
persuade you to direct the attention of your
parishioners to this fact, and to assure them,
that, when you prepared your timely treatise
upon the progress of purple chasubles among
the Feejee islanders, you were not justly
amenable to the charge of omitting all notice
of the cultivation of artificial flowers by the
Crim Tartars. The latter are, I believe, a very
estimable people, but they were not the subjects
of your consideration.

To those in your parish, and elsewhere, who
have thought fit to suppose that Mrs. Potiphar
is Mrs. Somebody-else,—what can we say? conscious
as we are, that they who have once
known that lady could never confound her
with another.

But for those who have actually supposed
you, yourself, Reverend Sir, to be, not somebody
else, but nobody, (!) we can only smile
compassionately, and express the hope that a

broader experience may give them greater
wisdom.

In taking leave of you, Sir, I know that I
express the warmest wish of a large, a very
large parish, (I might almost say, diocese,) that
you may long survive. For your parish is
fully, and, as I think, most correctly persuaded,
that while there is a Cream Cheese, there will
always be a Mrs. Potiphar.