“Hôtel De Minerva, Rome, Feb. 24, 1852.
“As to the tale for the Magazine. If left entirely to myself as to place, &c., I could begin about the June or July No., but as yet my ideas are in anything but a story-telling vein. My head is actually whirling with its sound of odd and incongruous associations—the ancient Rome of statues and temples jostling with the modern one of bonbons and confetti,—for it is the height of the Carnival, and the population has gone clean mad with tomfoolery.
“Old Rome is infinitely grander than I looked for,—the Colosseum and the Pantheon far beyond all I could conceive.
“We stay only a few days and then on to Naples—to see that (e poi?)t then back to Florence, for the expense is ruinous. The hotels are crammed; and as we are all here, and what with ciceroni, carriage hire, &c, every day is like a week of common living.
“This would do very well if I could afford it. There is everything to make this a place of intense interest, but one defect as a place of residence is insuperable—it cannot be inhabited in the summer months.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Casa Capponi, Florence, April 3, 1852.
“I write to know in case of need whether the Guardian Office would advance me a sum of £300 to £500 on my policy for £1500, the annual payments being now completed? I have received certain offers from America—on a literary point—which might, or might not, be worth serious consideration, but they all entail the necessity of residence in the States, and consequently a degree of preliminary expense of a serious amount. I am very far from wishing for any arrangement which as a necessary step includes banishment, and this America is, in my estimation. But in my position, and with my prospects, bread is the first requisite.
“I submitted, through O’Sullivan, a plan of a serial to M’Glashan, but have not yet received a reply.
“Do not mention to any one my American project, as nothing but direst stress of circumstances would induce me to think of it.”