I am improved in lumbago, but still, less upright than Aristides. Our house is full of beef, beer, young children, newspapers, libels, and mince-pies, and life goes on very well, except that I am often reminded I am too near the end of it. I have been trying ——’s ‘Lectures on the French Revolution,’ which I could not get on with, and am reading Thiers, which I find it difficult to lay down. —— is long and feeble; and though you are tolerably sure he will be dull, you are not equally sure he will be right. We are covered with snow, but utterly ignorant of what cold is, as are all natural philosophers.
What a remarkable woman she must be, that Mrs. Grote! she uses the word “thereto.” Why use antiquated forms of expression? Why not wear antiquated caps and shoes? Of all women living, you least want these distinctions.
I join you sincerely in your praise of ——; she is beautiful, she is clear of envy, hatred, and malice, she is very clear of prejudices, she has a regard for me.
It will be a great baronet season,—a year of the Bloody Hand. I know three more baronets I can introduce you to, and four or five knights; but, I take it, the mock-turtle of knights will not go down. I see how it will end; Grote will be made a baronet; and if he is not, I will. The Ministers, who would not make me a bishop, can’t refuse to make me a baronet. I remain always your attached friend,
