Florence: July 15, 1853.

  ... We have taken a villa at the Baths of Lucca, after a little holy
fear of the company there; but the scenery, the coolness, and the
convenience altogether prevail, and we have taken our villa for three
months or rather more, and go to it next week with a stiff resolve of
not calling nor being called upon. You remember perhaps that we were
there four years ago, just after the birth of our child. The mountains
are wonderful in beauty, and we mean to buy our holiday by doing some
work.

Yesterday evening we had the American Minister at the Court of Turin
here, and it was delightful to hear him talk about Piedmont, its
progress in civilisation and the comprehension of liberty, and the
honesty and resolution of the King. It is the only hope of Italy, that
Piedmont! God prosper the hope. Besides this diplomatical dignitary and
his wife, we had two American gentlemen of more than average
intelligence, who related wonderful things of the 'spiritual
manifestations' (so called), incontestable things, inexplicable things.
You will have seen Faraday's letter.[24] I wish to reverence men of
science, but they often will not let me. If _I_ know certain facts on
this subject, Faraday _ought_ to have known them before he expressed an
opinion on it. His statement does not meet the facts of the case--it is
a statement which applies simply to various amateur operations without
touching on the essential phenomena, such as the moving of tables
untouched by a finger.

Our visitor last night, to say nothing of other witnesses, has
repeatedly seen this done with his eyes--in private houses, for
instance, where there could be no machinery--and he himself and his
brother have held by the legs of a table to prevent the motion--the
medium sitting some yards away--and that table has been wrenched from
their grasp and lifted into the air. My husband's sister, who has
admirable sense and excessive scepticism on all matters of the kind, was
present the other day at the house of a friend of ours in Paris, where
an English young lady was medium, and where the table expressed itself
intelligently by knocking, with its leg, responses according to the
alphabet. For instance, the age of my child was asked, and the leg
knocked four times. Sarianna was 'not impressed,' she says, but, 'being
bound to speak the truth, she does not _think it possible that any trick
could have been used_.' To hear her say so was like hearing Mr. Chorley
say so; all her prejudices were against it strongly. Mr. Spicer's book
on the subject is flippant and a little vulgar, but the honesty and
accuracy of it have been attested to me by Americans oftener than once.
By the way, he speaks in it of your interesting 'Recollections,' and
quotes you upon the possibility of making a ghost story better by the
telling--in reference to Washington.

Mr. Tennyson is going to England for a few months, so that our Florence
party is breaking up, you see. He has printed a few copies of his poems,
and is likely to publish them if he meets with encouragement in England,
I suppose. They are full of imagery, encompassed with poetical
atmosphere, and very melodious. On the other hand, there is vagueness
and too much personification. It's the smell of a rose rather than a
rose--very sweet, notwithstanding. His poems are far superior to Charles
Tennyson's, bear in mind. As for the poet, we quite love him, Robert and
I do. What Swedenborg calls 'selfhood,' the _proprium_, is not in him.

Oh yes! I confess to loving Florence and to having associated with it
the idea of _home_. My child was born here, and here I have been very
happy and _well_. Yet we shall not live in Florence--we are steady to
our Paris plan. We must visit Rome next winter, and in the spring we
shall go to Paris _via_ London; you may rely on us for next summer. I
think it too probable that I may not be able to bear two successive
winters in the North; but in that case it will be easy to take a flight
for a few winter months into Italy, and we shall regard Paris, where
Robert's father and sister are waiting for us, as our fixed place of
residence. As to the distance between Paris and London, it's a mere step
now. We are to have war, I suppose. I would not believe it for a long
while, but the Czar seems to be struck with madness--mad in good
earnest. Under these circumstances I hope our Ministry will act with
decision and honesty--but I distrust Lord Aberdeen. There is evidently,
or has been, a division in the Cabinet, and perhaps Lord Palmerston is
not the strongest. Louis Napoleon has acted excellently in this
conjuncture--with integrity and boldness--don't you think so? Dear Mr.
Kenyon has his brother and sister with him, to his great joy. Robert
pretended he would not give me your last letter. Little Wiedeman threw
his arms round my neck (taking the play-cruelty for earnest) and
exclaimed, 'Never mind, mine darling Ba! You'll have it.' He always
calls me Ba at coaxing times. Such a darling that child is, indeed!

God bless you! Do write soon and tell me in detail of yourself.

Our united love, but mine the closest!

Your ever most affectionate
E.B.B.