You see to what fashionable places I am reduced in my old Age. The truth
is however I am come here by way of Visit to a sister {287b} I have
scarce seen these six years; my visit consisting in this that I live
alone in a lodging of my own by day, and spend two or three hours with
her in the Evening. This has been my way of Life for three weeks, and
will be so for some ten days more: after which I talk of flying back to
more native counties. I was to have gone on to see Alfred in his 'Island
Home' from here: but it appears he goes to London about the same time I
quit this place: so I must and shall defer my Visit to him. Perhaps I
shall catch a sight of him in London; as also of old Thackeray who, Donne
writes me word, came suddenly on him in Pall Mall the other day: while
all the while people supposed the Newcomes were being indited at Rome or
Naples.
If ever you live in England you must live here at Bath. It really is a
splendid City in a lovely, even a noble, Country. Did you ever see it?
One beautiful feature in the place is the quantity of Garden and Orchard
it is all through embroidered with. Then the Streets, when you go into
them, are as handsome and gay as London, gayer and handsomer because
cleaner and in a clearer Atmosphere; and if you want the Country you get
into it (and a very fine Country) on all sides and directly. Then there
is such Choice of Houses, Cheap as well as Dear, of all sizes, with good
Markets, Railways, etc. I am not sure I shall not come here for part of
the Winter. It is a place you would like, I am sure: though I do not say
but you are better in Florence. Then on the top of the hill is old
Vathek's Tower, which he used to sit and read in daily, and from which he
could see his own Fonthill, while it stood. Old Landor quoted to me
'Nullus in orbe locus, etc.,' apropos of Bath: he, you may know, has
lived here for years, and I should think would die here, though not yet.
He seems so strong that he may rival old Rogers; of whom indeed one
Newspaper gave what is called an 'Alarming Report of Mr. Rogers' Health'
the other day, but another contradicted it directly and indignantly, and
declared the Venerable Poet never was better. Landor has some hundred
and fifty Pictures; each of which he thinks the finest specimen of the
finest Master, and has a long story about, how he got it, when, etc. I
dare say some are very good: but also some very bad. He appeared to me
to judge of them as he does of Books and Men; with a most uncompromising
perversity which the Phrenologists must explain to us after his Death.
By the bye, about your Book, which of course you wish me to say something
about. Parker sent me down a copy 'from the Author' for which I hereby
thank you. If you believe my word, you already know my Estimation of so
much that is in it: you have already guessed that I should have made a
different selection from the great Volume which is now in Tatters. As I
differ in Taste from the world, however, quite as much as from you, I do
not know but you have done very much better in choosing as you have; the
few people I have seen are very much pleased with it, the Cowells at
Oxford delighted. A Bookseller there sold all his Copies the first day
they came down: and even in Bath a Bookseller (and not one of the
Principal) told me a fortnight ago he had sold some twenty Copies. I
have not been in Town since it came out: and have now so little
correspondence with literati I can't tell you about them. There was a
very unfair Review in the Athenaeum; which is the only Literary Paper I
see: but I am told there are laudatory ones in Examiner and Spectator.
I was five weeks at Oxford, visiting the Cowells in just the same way
that I am visiting my Sister here. I also liked Oxford greatly: but not
so well I think as Bath: which is so large and busy that one is drowned
in it as much as in London. There are often concerts, etc., for those
who like them; I only go to a shilling affair that comes off every
Saturday at what they call the Pump Room. On these occasions there is
sometimes some Good Music if not excellently played. Last Saturday I
heard a fine Trio of Beethoven. Mendelssohn's things are mostly tiresome
to me. I have brought my old Handel Book here and recreate myself now
and then with pounding one of the old Giant's Overtures on my sister's
Piano, as I used to do on that Spinnet at my Cottage. As to Operas, and
Exeter Halls, I have almost done with them: they give me no pleasure, I
scarce know why.
I suppose there is no chance of your being over in England this year, and
perhaps as little Chance of my being in Italy. All I can say is, the
latter is not impossible, which I suppose I may equally say of the
former. But pray write to me. You can always direct to me at Donne's,
12 St. James' Square, or at Rev. G. Crabbe's, Bredfield, Woodbridge.
Either way the letter will soon reach me. Write soon, Frederic, and let
me hear how you and yours are: and don't wait, as you usually do, for
some inundation of the Arno to set your pen agoing. Write ever so
shortly and whatever-about-ly. I have no news to tell you of Friends. I
saw old Spedding in London; only doubly calm after the death of a Niece
he dearly loved and whose death-bed at Hastings he had just been waiting
upon. Harry {291} Lushington wrote a martial Ode on seeing the Guards
march over Waterloo Bridge towards the East: I did not see it, but it was
much admired and handed about, I believe. And now my paper is out: and I
am going through the rain (it is said to rain very much here) to my
Sister's. So Good Bye, and write to me, as I beg you, in reply to this
long if not very interesting letter.
_To John Allen_.
MARKET HILL, WOODBRIDGE.
_October_ 8/54.