omena by 'a personality unconsciously
projected' (which requires explanation of itself), you must admit the
spirit theory. As to the simpler forms of the manifestation (it is all
one manifestation), the 'turning-tables,' I was convinced long before
Faraday's letter that _many_ of the amateur performances were from
involuntary muscular action--but what then? These are only imitations of
actual phenomena. Faraday's letter does not meet the common fact of
tables being moved and lifted without the touch of a finger. It is a
most arrogant letter and singularly inconclusive. Tell me any facts you
may hear. Mr. Kinney, the American Minister at the Court of Turin, had
arrived at Florence a few days before we quitted it, and he and his wife
helped us to spend our last evening at Casa Guidi. He is cultivated and
high-minded. I like him much; and none the less that he brings hopeful
accounts of the state of Piedmont, of the progress of the people, and
good persistency of the King. It makes one's heart beat with the sense
that all is not over with our poor Italy.

I am glad you like Frederick Tennyson's poems. They are full of
_atmospherical_ poetry, and very melodious. The poet is still better
than the poems--so truthful, so direct, such a reliable Christian man.
Robert and I quite love him. We very much appreciate, too, young Lytton,
your old friend. He is noble in many ways, I think, and affectionate.
Moreover, he has an incontestable _faculty_ in poetry, and I expect
great things from him as he ripens into life and experience. Meanwhile
he has just privately printed a drama called 'Clytemnestra,' too
ambitious because after AEschylus, but full of promise indeed. We are
hoping that he will come down and see us in the course of our
rustication at the Baths, and occupy our spare bedroom....

As to Mr. ----, his Hebrew was Chinese to _you_, do you say? But, dear,
he is strong in veritable Chinese besides! And one evening he nearly
assassinated me with the analysis, chapter by chapter, of a Japanese
novel. Mr. Lytton, who happened to be a witness, swore that I grew
paler and paler, and not with sympathy for the heroine. He is a
miraculously vain man--which rather amused me--and, for the rest, is
full of information--yes, and of kindness, I think. He gave me a little
black profile of you which gives the air of your head, and is so far
valuable to me. As to myself, indeed, he has rather flattered me than
otherwise--I don't complain,