Day: June 30, 2018

[Postmark: June 30, 1846]

Tuesday.

I have looked in the map for ‘ L– ,’ the place praised
in the letter, and conclude it must be either Ceva, (La Ceva,
between Nocera and Salerno, about four miles from the
latter, and on the mountain-side, I suppose . . see a map,
my Ba !) – or else Lucera, (which looks very like the word . .
and which lies at about sixty miles to the N.E. of Naples, in
a straight line over the mountains and roadless country, but
perhaps twice as far by the mainway through Avellino, Ariano,
Bovino, and Savia – (exactly 120 Italian miles now that I
count the posts). So that there would be somewhat of a
formidable journey to undertake after the sea voyage. I
daresay at Ceva there is abundance of quietness, as the few
who visit Salerno do not go four miles inland, – can you
enquire into this ?

How inexpressibly charming it is to me to have a pretext
for writing thus . . about such approaches to the real event
these business-b’ke words, and names of places ! If at the
end you should bring yourself to say ‘ But you never
seriously believed this would take place – ‘what should I
answer, I wonder?

Let me think on what is real, indisputable, however . .
the improvement in the health as I read it on the dear, dear
cheeks yesterday. This morning is favourable again . . you
will go out, will you not ?

Mr. Kenyon sends me one of his kindest letters to ask
me to dine with him next week – on Wednesday. I feel his
kindness, just as you feel in the other case, and in its lesser
degree, I feel it, and then I know, dare think I know
whether he will be so sorry in the end, – loving you as he
does. I will send his letter that you may understand here as
elsewhere.

I think my head is dizzy with reading the debates this
morning – Peel’s speech and farewell. How exquisitely absurd,
it just strikes me, would be any measure after Miss Marti-
neau’s own heart, which should introduce women to Parlia-
ment as we understand its functions at present how essen
tially retrograde a measure ! Parliament seems no place for
originating, creative minds but for second-rate minds
influenced by and bent on working out the results of these
– and the most efficient qualities for such a purpose are
confessedly found oftener with men than with women –
physical power having a great deal to do with it beside. So
why shuffle the heaps together which, however arbitrarily
divided at first, happen luckily to lie pretty much as one
would desire, – here the great flint stones, here the pebbles
– and diamonds too. The men of genius knew all this, said
more than all this, in their way and proper place on the
outside, where Miss M. is still saying something of the kind
– to be taken up in its time by some other Mr. Cobden and
talked about, and beleaguered. But such people cannot or
will not see where their office begins and advantageously
ends ; and that there is such a thing as influencing the
influencers, playing the Bentham to the Cobden, the Barry
to a Commission for Public Works, the Lough to the three
or four industrious men with square paper caps who get
rules and plummets and dot the blocks of marble all over as
his drawings indicate. So you and I will go to Salerno or
L– – (not to the L– akes, Heaven forefend !) and if we
‘ let sail winged words, freighted with truth from the throne
of God ‘ – we may be sure –

Ah, presumption all of it ! Then, you shall fill the
words with their freight, and I will look on and love you, –
is that too much ? Yes – for any other – No – for one you
[know] is yours –

Your very own.

For the quick departing yesterday our day was not
spoken of . . it is Saturday, is it not ?

[Postmark: June 30, 1846]

Tuesday Morning.

The gods and men call you by your name, but I never
do – never dare. In case of invocation, tell me how you
should be called by such as I ? not to be always the ‘ inex-
pressive He ‘ which I make of you. In case of courage for
invocation ! –

Dearest . . (which is a name too) read on the paper in-
side what I have been studying about Salerno since we
parted yesterday. Forsyth is too severe in his deductions,
perhaps, from the apothecaries, but your Naples book will
not help me to contradict him, saying neither the one thing
nor the other. The word we could not read in the letter
yesterday, was La Cava – and La Cava is a town on the way
between Naples and Salerno, which Mrs. Stark describes as
‘ a large town with porticoes on each side of the High Street,
like those at Bologna.’ To which the letter adds, remember
‘ enchantingly beautiful, very good air and no English
Then there is Vietri, mentioned by Forsyth, between La Cava
and Salerno, and on the bay. It is as well to think of all
three. Were you ever at either ? Amalfi itself appears to
be very habitable. Oh – and your Naples book says of
Salerno, that it is illuminated by fireflies, and that the
chanting of frogs covers the noises of the city. You will like
the frogs, if you don’t the apothecaries, and I shall like the
fireflies if I don’t the frogs – but I do like frogs, you know,
and it was quite a mistake of yours when you once thought
otherwise.

Now I am going out in the carriage, to call on Mr.
Kenyon, and perhaps to see Mr. Boyd. Your flowers are
more beautiful than they were yesterday, if possible : and
the fresh coolness helps them to live, so, that I hope you
may see some of them on Saturday when you come. On
Saturday ! What a time to wait ! if not for them, yet for
me. Of the two, it is easier for them, certainly. They only
miss a little dew and air.

I shall write again to-night, – but I cannot be more then
than now, nor less ever than now

Your own

BA.

Here is a coincidence. Hardly had you left me, when,
passing near the table at the end of the room, I saw a parcel
there. Remember your question about the ‘Year of the
World’ Precisely that ! With a note, the counterpart of
yours – desiring an opinion !

May God bless you, dear, dear ! – Did I ever think I
should live to thank God that I did not die five years ago ?
– Not that I quite, quite dare to do it yet. I must be sure
first of something.

Which is not your love, my beloved – it is a something
still dearer and of more consequence.

SALERNO.

‘ Though placed between the beauties of sea and land, of
cultivated and rude nature, the city is so unhealthy that its
richer inhabitants remove to Vietri during the hot months.
In proof of its bad air, I remark here a number of apothe-
caries ! ‘ FORSYTH.

‘ Its white houses curving round the haven at the water’s
brink, the mountains crowding close behind the city, the
ruins of its Gothic castle on the olive-covered hill above,
together mirrored on the waveless water, itself alternate shine
and shadow – ’tis a noble sight.

‘ The view from Salerno is one of the loveliest pictures in
Italy. A clear-complexioned, open-eyed, and bright-faced
city is modern Salerno, – and its streets and piazza were all
astir.’ Letters from Naples.

‘ This town, the approach to which is enchanting, boasts
a tolerably good inn !!’ MRS. STARKE.