), are a disgrace to their sex, aren't
they now? And women and men with statistical memories, who are always
quoting centuries and the years thereof ('Do you remember in '20?' _As
if anybody could_), are the pests of society. And, in short, and for my
part, whatever honours of authorship may ever befall me, I hope I may be
safe from the epithet which distinguishes the Venerable Bede.

Now, if I had written this from Paris, you would have cried out upon the
frivolity I had picked up. Who would imagine that I had just finished a
summer of mountain solitude, succeeding a winter's meditation on
Swedenborg's philosophy, and that such fruit was of it all? By the way,
tell me how it was that Paris did harm to Moore? Mentally, was it, and
morally, or in the matter of the body? I have not seen the biography
yet. Italy keeps us behind in new books. But the extracts given in
newspapers displease me through the ignoble tone of 'doing honour to the
lord,' which is anything but religious. Also, the letters seem somewhat
less brilliant than I expected from Moore; but it must be, after all, a
most entertaining book. Tell me if you have read Mrs. Gaskell's 'Ruth.'
That's a novel which I much admire. It is strong and healthy at once,
teaching a moral frightfully wanted in English society. Such an
interesting letter I had from Mrs. Gaskell a few days ago simple, worthy
of 'Ruth.' By the way, 'Ruth' is a great advance on 'Mary Barton,'
don't you think so? 'Villette,' too (Jane Eyre's), is very powerful.

Since we have been here we have had for a visitor (drawing the advantage
from our spare room) Mr. Lytton, Sir Edward's only son, who is attache
at the Florence Legation at this time. He lost nothing from the test of
house-intimacy with either of us--gained, in fact, much. Full of all
sorts of good and nobleness he really is, and gifted with high faculties
and given to the highest aspirations--not vulgar ambitions,
understand--he will never be a great diplomatist, nor fancy himself an
inch taller for being master of Knebworth.[27] Then he is somewhat
dreamy and unpractical, we must confess; he won't do for drawing carts
under any sort of discipline. Such a summer we have enjoyed here, free
from burning heats and mosquitos--the two drawbacks of Italy--and in the
heart of the most enchanting scenery. Mountains not too grand for
exquisite verdure, and just kept from touching by the silver finger of a
stream. I have been donkey-riding, and so h