“During my above-mentioned studies of horticulture, I became dissatisfied with the Linnaean, Jussieuan, and Everybody-elseian arrangement of plants, and have accordingly arranged a system of my own; and unbound my botanical book, and rebound it in brighter green, with all the pages through-other, and backside foremost—­so as to cut off all the old paging numerals; and am now printing my new arrangement in a legible manner, on interleaved foolscap.  I consider this arrangement one of my great achievements of the year.  My studies of political economy have induced me to think also that nobody knows anything about that; and I am at present engaged in an investigation, on independent principles, of the natures of money, rent, and taxes, in an abstract form, which sometimes keeps me awake all night.  My studies of German metaphysics have also induced me to think that the Germans don’t know anything about them; and to engage in a serious enquiry into the meaning of Bunsen’s great sentence in the beginning of the second volume of the ‘Hippolytus,’ about the Finite realization of Infinity; which has given me some trouble.

“The course of my studies of Navigation necessitated my going to Deal to look at the Deal boats; and those of geology to rearrange all my minerals (and wash a good many, which, I am sorry to say, I found wanted it).  I have also several pupils, far and near, in the art of illumination; an American young lady to direct in the study of landscape painting, and a Yorkshire young lady to direct in the purchase of Turners,—­and various little bye things besides.  But I am coming to see you.”

The tone of humorous exaggeration of his discoveries and occupations was very characteristic.  But he was then growing into the habit of leaving the matter in hand, as he often did afterwards, to follow side issues, and to take up new studies with a hasty and divided attention; the result of which was seen in his sub-title for the third volume of “Modern Painters”—­“Of Many Things”; which amused his readers not a little.  But that he still had time for his friends is seen in the account of a visit to Denmark Hill, written this year by James Smetham.

“I walked there through the wintry weather, and got in about dusk.  One or two gossiping details will interest you before I give you what I care for; and so I will tell you that he has a large house with a lodge, and a valet and footman and coachman, and grand rooms glittering with pictures, chiefly Turner’s, and that his father and mother live with him, or he with them....  His father is a fine old gentleman, who has a lot of bushy gray hair, and eyebrows sticking up all rough and knowing, with a comfortable way of coming up to you with his hands in his pockets, and making you comfortable, and saying, in answer to your remark, that ‘John’s’ prose works are pretty good.  His mother is a ruddy, dignified, richly dressed old gentlewoman