ree counties to see "the view" or "the site" or the
extraordinary cliff or the unusual tower or the unreasonable hill or
any other monstrosity deforming the face of Nature. Anybody can make
sights but nobody has yet succeeded in making scenery. (Excuse the
unaccountable pencil drawing in the middle which was drawn
unconsciously on the back of the unfinished letter.) . . .

9, South Terrace,
Littlehampton, Sussex.
(undated.)

. . . I agree with you in your admiration for Paradise Lost, but
consider it on the whole too light and childish a book for persons of
our age. It is all very well, as small children to read pretty
stories about Satan and Belial, when we have only just mastered our
"Oedipus" and our Herbert Spencer, but when we grow older we get to
like Captain Marryat and Mr. Kingston and when we are men we know
that Cinderella is much better than any of those babyish books. As
regards one question which you asked, I may remark that the children
of Israel [presumably the Solomons] have not gone unto Horeb, neither
unto Sittim, but unto the land that is called Shropshire they went,
and abode therein. And they came unto a city, even unto the city that
is called Shrewsbury, and there they builded themselves an home,
where they might abide. And their home was in the land that was
called Castle Street and their home was the 25th tabernacle in that
land. And they abode with certain of their own kin until their season
be over and gone. And lo! they spake unto me by letter, saying,
"Heard ye aught of him that is called Bentley? Is he in the house of
his fathers or has he come unto a strange land?" Here endeth the 2nd
Lesson.

Hotel de Lille & d'Albion,
223, Rue St. Honore,
Paris.
(undated, probably 1892.)

. . . They showed us over the treasures of the Cathedral, among
which, as was explained by the guide, who spoke a little English, was
a cross given by Louis XIV to _"Meess"_ Lavalliere. I thought that
concession to the British system of titles was indeed touching. I
also thought, when reflecting what the present was, and where it was
and then to whom it was given, that this showed pretty well what the
religion of the Bourbon regime was and why it has become impossible
since the Revolution.

Grand Hotel du Chemin de Fer,
Arromanches (Calvados)
(undated)

. . . Art is universal. This