help.

I think that Tennyson in calling Tom Taylor the 'cleverest man,' etc.,
meant pretty much as you do. I believe he said it in reply to something
I may have said that was less laudatory. At one time Tennyson almost
lived with him and the Wigans whom I did not know. Taylor always seemed
to me as 'clever' as any one: was always very civil to me: but one of
those toward whom I felt no attraction. He was too clever, I think. As
to Art, he knew nothing of it then, nor (as he admits) up to 1852 or
thereabout, when he published his very good Memoir of Haydon. I think he
was too 'clever' for Art also.

Why will you write of 'If you _bid_ me come to Lowestoft in October,'
etc., which, you must know, is just what I should not ask you to do:
knowing that, after what you say, you would come, if asked, were--(a Bull
begins here)--were it ever so unlikely for you. I am going thither next
week, to hear much (I dare say) of a Brother in Ireland who may be called
to India; and am

Ever yours sincerely,
LITTLEGRANGE.

Why won't you write to me from Switzerland to say where a Letter may find
you? If not, the Harvest Moon will pass!

LXXX.

IVY HOUSE, LOWESTOFT:
_Septr._ 20, {194} [1880.]

MY DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,

Here is a second Full Moon since last I wrote--(Harvest Moon, I think). I
knew not where to direct to you before, and, as you remain determined not
to apprize me yourself, so I have refused to send through Coutts. You do
not lose much.

Here have been for nearly two months Five English Nieces clustered round
a Sister who married an Italian, and has not been in England these dozen
years. She has brought her Boy of six, who seems to us wonderfully
clever as compared to English Children of his Age, but who, she tells us,
is counted rather behind his Fellows in Italy. Our meeting has been what
is called a 'Success'--which will not be repeated, I think. She will go
back to her adopted Country in about a month, I suppose. Do you know of
any one likely to be going that way about that time?

Some days ago, when I was sitting on the Pier, rather sad at the
Departure [of] a little Niece--an abridgment of all that is pleasant--and
good--in Woman--Charles Merivale accosted me--he and his good,
unaffected, sensible, wife, and Daughter to match. He was looking well,
and we have since had a daily stroll together. We talked of you, for he
said (among the first things he did say) that he had been reading yo