e 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