manners of a gentleman."
_30th Sept_.
"I have the advantage here I had not counted on. I see by the
papers that the weather in England is very stormy and bad. Now,
though it is showery here, and breezy, it has always allowed me at
some time of the day to draw. The air is tender and soft,
invariably--even when blowing with force; and to-day, I have seen
quite the loveliest sunset I ever yet saw,--one at Boulogne in '61
was richer; but for delicacy and loveliness nothing of past sight
ever came near this."
Earlier on the same day he had written:
"I am well satisfied with the work I am doing, and even with my own
power of doing it, if only I can keep myself from avariciously
trying to do too much, and working hurriedly. But I can do _very_
little quite _well_, each day: with that however it is my bounden
duty to be content.
"And now I have a little piece of news for you. Our old Herne Hill
house being now tenantless, and requiring some repairs before I can
get a tenant, I have resolved to keep it for myself, for my rougher
mineral work and mass of collection; keeping only my finest
specimens at Denmark Hill. My first reason for this, is affection
for the old house:--my second, want of room;--my third, the
incompatibility of hammering, washing, and experimenting on stones
with cleanliness in my stores of drawings. And my fourth is the
power I shall have, when I want to do anything very quietly, of
going up the hill and thinking it out in the old garden, where your
greenhouse still stands, and the aviary--without fear of
interruption from callers.
"It may perhaps amuse you, in hours which otherwise would be
listless, to think over what may be done with the old house. I have
ordered it at once to be put in proper repair by Mr. Snell; but for
the furnishing, I can give no directions at present: it is to be
very simple, at all events, and calculated chiefly for museum work
and for stores of stones and books: and you really must not set
your heart on having it furnished like Buckingham Palace.
"I have bought to-day, for five pounds, the front of the porch of
the Church of St. James. It was going to be entirely destroyed. It
is worn away, and has little of its old beauty; but as a remnant of
the Gothic of Abbeville--as I happen t
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