Napoleon’s position in France is hard enough of itself.  Forty thousand priests, with bishops of the colour of Mon. d’Orleans and company, having, of course, a certain hold on the agricultural population which forms so large a part of the basis of the imperial throne.  Then add to that the parties the ‘Liberals’ (so called) and others, who use this question as a weapon simply.  In the Senate and Legislative Body they haven’t forgotten how to talk, have they—­these French?  The passion and confusion seem to have been extreme.  After all, we shall get a working majority, I do hope and trust, for all the intelligent supporters of the Government are with us, and the Chamber will be dissolved at need.  There is talk of it already in Rome....

At last we see your advertisement. Viva ’Agnes Tremorne’![89] We find it in ‘Orley Farm.’  How admirably this last opens!  We are both delighted with it.  What a pity it is that so powerful and idiomatic a writer should be so incorrect grammatically and scholastically speaking!  Robert insists on my putting down such phrases as these:  ’The Cleeve was distant from Orley two miles, though it could not be driven under five.’ ‘One rises up the hill.’ ‘As good as him.’  ’Possessing more acquirements than he would have learned at Harrow.’ Learning acquirements! Yes, they are faults, and should be put away by a first-rate writer like Anthony Trollope.  It’s always worth while to be correct.  But do understand through the pedantry of these remarks that we are full of admiration for the book.  The movement is so excellent and straightforward—­walking like a man, and ‘rising up-hill,’ and not going round and round, as Thackeray has taken to do lately.  He’s clever always, but he goes round and round till I’m dizzy, for one, and don’t know where I am.  I think somebody has tied him up to a post, leaving a tether.  Dearest Isa, the day before yesterday I had two letters from Madame M——­ to ask us to take rooms.  He is coming directly to Rome.  She says he has much to tell me, and it’s evident, of course, that an Italian senator, native to the Roman States, wouldn’t come here just now without mission or permission.  I am full of expectation, but will say no more.

Dearest Isa, have I been long in writing indeed?  You see, I let so many letters accumulate which I hadn’t the heart to reply to, that, on taking up the account, I had over much to do in writing letters.  Then I have been working a little at some Italian lyrics.  Three more are gone lately to the ‘Independent,’ and another is ready to go.  All this, with helping Pen to prepare for the Abbe, has filled my hands, and they are soon tired, my Isa, nowadays.  When the sun goes down, I am down.  At eight I generally am in bed, or little after.  And people will come in occasionally in the day, and annul me.  I had a visit from Lady Annabella Noel lately, Lord Byron’s granddaughter.  Very quiet, and very intense, I