[Paris]: May 2, 1856 [postmark].

My dearest Mona Nina,--It's very pleasant always to get letters from
you, and such kind dear letters, showing that you haven't broken the
tether-strings in search of 'pastures new,' weary of our cropped grass.

As for news, you have most of the persons upon whom you care for gossip
in your hand now--Mrs. Sartoris, Madame Viardot, Lady Monson, and the
Ristori herself. Robert went to see her twice, because Lady Monson led
him by the hand kindly, and was charmed; thought the Medee very fine,
but won't join in the cry about miraculous genius and Rachel
out-Racheled. He thinks that as far as the highest and largest
development of sensibility can go, she is very great; but that for those
grand and sudden _apercus_ which have distinguished actors--such as
Kean, for instance--he does not acknowledge them in her. You have heard
perhaps how Dickens and others, Macready among the rest, depreciated
her. Dickens went so far as to say, I understand, that no English
audience would tolerate her defects; which will be put to the proof
presently. By the way, you had better not quote Macready on this
subject, as he expressed himself unwilling to be quoted on it....

So now we are well again,[50] thank God; and if Robert will but take
regular exercise, he will keep so, I hope. As to Penini, he is radiant,
and even I have been out walking twice, though a good deal weaker for
the winter. More open air, and much more, is necessary to set me growing
again, but I shall grow; and meantime I have been working, and am
working, at so close a rate that if I lose a day I am lost, which is too
close a rate, and makes one feel rather nervous. We see nobody till
after four meantime. I have finished (not transcribed) the last book but
one, and am now in the very last book, which must be finished with the
last days of May. Then the first fortnight of June will be occupied with
the transcription of these two last books, and I shall carry the
completed work with me to England on the 16th if it please God. Oh, I do
hope you won't be disappointed with it--much! Some things you will like
certainly, because of the boldness and veracity of them, and others you
_may_; I can't be so sure. Robert speaks well of the poetry--encourages
me much. But then he has seen only six of the eight books yet.

He just now has taken to drawing, and after thirteen days' application
has produced some quite startling copies of heads. I am very glad. He
can't rest from serious work in light literature, as I can; it wearies
him, and there are hours which are on his hands, which is bad both for
them and for him. The secret of life is in full occupation, isn't it?
This world is not tenable on other terms. So while I lie on the sofa and
rest in a novel, Robert has a resource in his drawing; and really, with
all his feeling and knowledge of art, some of the mechanical trick of it
can't be out of place.

To-night he is going to Madame Mohl, who is well and as vivacious as
ever. When Monckton Milnes was in Paris he dined with him in company
with Mignet, Cavour, George Sand, and an empty chair in which Lamartine
was expected to sit. George Sand had an ivy wreath round her head, and
looked like herself; But Lady Monson will talk to you of _her_, better
than I can. Now, mind you ask Lady Monson.

As to this Government, I only entreat you _not_ to believe any of the
mendacious reports set afloat here by a most unworthy Opposition, and
carried out by the English 'Athenaeum' and other prints. Surely a cause
must be bad which is supported by such bad means. In the first place,
Beranger did _not_ write the verses attributed to him. The internal
evidence was sufficient--for Victor Hugo is his personal enemy--to say
nothing of the poetry. Then it would be wise, I think, in considering
this question, and in taking for granted that the 'literature and
talent' of the country are against the Government, to analyse the
antecedents and character of the persons who _do_ stand out, persons
implicated in former Governments, or favored by former Governments, and
whose vanity and prejudices are necessarily contrary to a new order.
These persons, either in themselves or their friends, have all been
tried in action and found wanting. They have all lost the confidence of
the French people, either by their misconduct or their ill-fortune.
They are all cast aside as broken instruments. Under these circumstances
they think it desirable to break themselves into the lock, to prevent
the turning of another key; they consider it noble and patriotic to
stand aside and revile and throw mud, in order to hinder the action of
those who _are_ acting for the country. In my mind, it is quite
otherwise; in my mind and in many other minds--Robert's, for instance!
and he began with a most intense hatred of this Government, as you well
know. But he does not shut his eyes to all that is noble and admirable
going on, on all sides. At last he is sick of the Opposition, he admits.
In respect to literature, nothing can be more mendacious than to say
there are restraints upon literature. Books of freer opinion are printed
now than would ever have been permitted under Louis Philippe, as was
reproached against Napoleon by an enemy the other day--books of free
opinion, even licentious opinion, on religion and philosophy. _There is
restraint in the newspapers only._ That the 'Athenaeum' should venture to
say that in consequence of the suppression of books compositors are
thrown out of work and forced to become transcribers of verses like
Beranger's (which are not Beranger's) is so stupendous a falsehood in
the face of _statistics which prove a yearly increase in the amount of
books printed_ that I quite lose my breath, you see, in speaking of it.

The Government is steadily solving, or attempting to solve, that
difficult modern problem of possible _Socialism_ which has been knocking
at all our heads and hearts so long. _That_ is its vexation. It is a
Government for the _'bus people_, the first settled and serious
Government that ever attempted _their_ case. Its action is worth all the
pedantry of the _doctrinaires_ and the middling morals of the _juste
milieu_; and I, who am a Democrat, will stand by it as long as I can
stand, which isn't very long just now, as I told you.

Dearest Mona Nina, I am so uneasy about dear Mr. Kenyon, who has been
ill again--_is_ ill, I fear. He is in London--more's the pity! and Miss
Bayley is with him. He gives me sad thoughts.

Do write of yourself. Don't _you_ be sad, dearest friend. Oh, I do wish
you could have come, and let us love you and talk to you--but on the
16th of June, at any rate.

Your ever affectionate
BA.