In a word
I feel as if you were not engrossed by your subject, but were
sufficiently aloof from it to contemplate it as a spectator, which is
an error in art. Many of the remarks are delicately felt and finely
written. The whole book comes from a noble nature, and so it impresses
the reader. But I may tell you what Mrs. Carlyle said last night,
which will in some sense corroborate what I have said. In her opinion
you would have done better to make two books of it, one the love
story, and one a description of Florentine life. She admires the book
very much I should add. Now, although I cannot by any means agree
with that criticism of hers, I fancy the origin of it was some such
feeling, as I have endeavoured to indicate in saying you are often
critical when you should be simply objective.
"We had a pleasant journey home over the St. Gothard, and found our
boy very well and happy at Hofwyl, and our bigger boy _ditto_ awaiting
us here. Polly is very well, and as you may imagine talks daily of
Florence and our delightful trip, our closer acquaintance with you and
yours being among the most delightful of our reminiscences.
"Yesterday Anthony dined with us, and as he had never seen Carlyle he
was glad to go down with us to tea at Chelsea. Carlyle had read and
_agreed_ with the West Indian book, and the two got on very well
together; both Carlyle and Mrs. Carlyle liking Anthony, and I suppose
it was reciprocal, though I did not see him afterwards to hear what he
thought.
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