From Lady Smith
Lowestoft, July 9th.
Dear Mr. Reeve,—In one of your friendly letters to me, after the decease of our valued friend Emily Taylor, you kindly hinted that you would occasionally favour me with a note; but, knowing the demands upon your pen, I should not have reminded you of this kindness but for an incident which occurred last evening when my niece, Ina Reeve, came in to me, saying she had read such a severe and bitter review of your late publication as quite surprised her. As she brought the 'Saturday Review' with her, she read it to me, and perhaps, dear friend, you may have read it, and perhaps guess its author. To me it seems he is not so angry with your books as with yourself. Mr. Reeve floats uppermost in almost every line, and 'tis you he hates. I perceive he cannot endure you, and makes use of your books only to insult you. I hope you will take care how you come in his way, for I am sure he will do you a mischief. Beware of the evil eye! He talks of your ignorance of the New Testament. I could not help thinking how little he is acquainted with its spirit.
I also read with much concern of the treatment by Mr. Ayrton of that admirable Curator at the Kew Gardens—Dr. Hooker. Cruel it will be to science and the public if he is driven from the position he is so competent to fill with good results.
I have read at present only a part of your first volume, which I much enjoyed. Sir James was in Paris about two or three years before the Great Revolution began, but the fermentation was beginning. 'Tis time to relieve you from my imperfect writing, for my sight is not very perfect, and by candlelight I can neither see to read or write. About two months go I completed my ninety-ninth year; but I have health and a new source of happiness in my nephew James and his dear daughter, who are come to reside at Lowestoft. She is a daily friend to me, a second self; as our taste in literature, in poetry, and in morals agree. Only think, the Dean of Norwich sent me his defence of St. Athanasius' Creed!
I am your dear friend,
P. SMITH.
The next entry in the Journal introduces us to the place—a site on the Southbourne estate already spoken of—where, two years afterwards, Reeve built the house in which so much of the last twenty years of his life was passed. It will be seen that for some time he hesitated between this and the neighbourhood of Ascot where, in the autumn, he inherited a small property.
July 13th.—To Christchurch, with Parker and Cockerell, [Footnote: Frederick Pepys Cockerell, one of a family of distinguished architects, and himself of a high reputation. He died at the age of 45, in 1878.] about the house at Foxholes.
17th.—Dined at Duke of Argyll's. 20th, three days at Strawberry Hill. 27th, party at Aldermaston: Otway, Layards, H. Bruce.