LONDON, _July 20, 1856_.
I received your letter last evening, and it was very welcome. If I were
not afraid that I was dreaming, I might say something affectionate at
this time. I shall go in a few days to Edinburgh, where I am to consult
a Scotch wizard. My friends wish to take me to see a real chieftain, who
wears no breeches, and has never worn them. He has no stairway in his
house, and he has his bard and his wizard. Is all this not worth the
trouble of making the journey?
I have found people here so cordial, so friendly, so engrossingly
interested in me that it is evident they are extremely tired of one
another.
Yesterday I met again two of my old sweethearts: one has become a victim
of asthma, and the other is a Methodist. I have also made the
acquaintance of eight or ten poets, who impressed me as even more
ridiculous than our own. It was a pleasure to visit once more the
Sydenham Palace, although it has been entirely spoiled by a number of
huge monuments erected in memory of the heroes of the Crimea. The heroes
in question are to be seen on the street drunk every day.
London is still full of people, but everybody is preparing for flight. I
am to go Monday for a visit to the Duke of Hamilton, where I shall stay
until Wednesday, on which day I make my entry into Edinburgh. In two
weeks probably I shall return to London, where I shall see you again.
Try to be here by that time; you can not give me a greater proof of
affection, and you know the happiness that I shall experience in seeing
you.
Good-bye. You may write to me at the Douglas Hotel, Edinburgh, where I
shall remain several days before venturing into the North.