trange charm of
the south, perhaps--who knows? And yet there are vulgarities and
vexations even in Tuscany, if one digs for them--or doesn't dig,
sometimes....

In Paris we saw Father Prout, who was in great force and kindness, and
Charles Sumner, passing through the burning torture under the hands of
French surgeons, which is approved of by the brains of English surgeons.
Do you remember the Jesuit's agony, in the 'Juif Errant'? Precisely
that. Exposed to the living coal for seven minutes, and the burns taking
six weeks to heal. Mr. Sumner refused chloroform--from some foolish
heroic principle, I imagine, and suffered intensely. Of course he is not
able to stir for some time after the operation, and can't read or sleep
from the pain. Now, he is just 'healed,' and is allowed to travel for
two months, after which he is to return and be burned again. Isn't it a
true martyrdom? I ask. What is apprehended is paralysis, or at best
nervous infirmity for life, from the effect of the blows (on the spine)
of that savage.

Then, just as we arrived in Paris, dear Lady Elgin had another 'stroke,'
and was all but gone. She rallied, however, with her wonderful vitality,
and we left her sitting in her garden, fixed to the chair, of course,
and not able to speak a word, nor even to gesticulate distinctly, but
with the eloquent soul full and radiant, alive to both worlds. Robert
and I sate there, talking politics and on other subjects, and there she
sate and let no word drop unanswered by her bright eyes and smile. It
was a beautiful sight. Robert fed her with a spoon from her soup-plate,
and she signed, as well as she could, that he should kiss her forehead
before he went away. She was always so fond of Robert, as women are apt
to be, you know--even _I_, a little....

Forster wrote the other day, melancholy with the misfortunes of his
friends, though he doesn't name Dickens. Landor had just fled to his
(Forster's) house in London for protection from _an action for libel_.

See what a letter I have written. Write to me, dearest Fanny, and love
me. Oh, how glad I shall be to be back among you again in my Florence!

Your ever affectionate
BA.

* * * * *

_To Mrs. Jameson_

Maison Versigny, 2 Rue de Perry, Le Havre:
July 24, 1858 [postmark].

Dearest Mona Nina,--Have you rather wondered at not hearing? We have
been a-wandering, a-wandering over the world--have been to Etretat and
failed, and no