My dearest mother, here are now all my Letters in a collective form, and I dedicate them to you, because I know that to you they will give most pleasure. Besides, you are so accustomed to have occasion to be indulgent with me, that you will the more readily overlook the manifold imperfections, contradictions and inconsistencies, which are inseparable from such a series of Letters; and this idea is very gratifying to me. For, though I am ready to admit that there are a thousand imperfections in mine, still I must extend some protection to the apparent contradictions and inconsistencies; for, in fact, they are but apparent. On Monday, I saw a thing on one side and wrote to you about it; on Wednesday I observed it on another, and gave you my further remarks. Explanations, supplements, which you would like to have at first, you find perhaps ten Letters off-perhaps not at all,