[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.