says that one essential of the happy life is “that a man would have almost no mail and never dread the postman’s knock.” Yet here we have enough letters to fill a book written to one person in a far country whom he never expected to meet in this world. Although this is one of the longest of Lewis’s correspondences, it is not the only one running to a hundred or more letters. Here is a man who could have found a whole bag of reasons to justify pitching his mail into the wastepaper basket. He was often