Friday, Jan. 8.—A quiet evening. We were all rather piano at the end of an episode which had been thoroughly delightful. When Mr. G. bade me good-night, he said with real feeling, “More sorry than I can say that this is our last evening together at Biarritz.” He is painfully grieved to lose the sound of the sea in his ears.
Saturday, Jan. 9.—Strolled about all the forenoon. “What a time of blessed composure it has been,” said Mr. G. with a heavy sigh. The distant hills covered with snow, and the voice of the storm gradually swelling. Still the savage fury of the sea was yet some hours off, so we had to leave Biarritz without the spectacle of Atlantic rage at its fiercest.
Found comfortable saloon awaiting us at Bayonne, and so under weeping skies we made our way to Pau. The landscape must be pretty, weather permitting. As it was, we saw but little. Mr. G. dozed and read Max Müller's book on Anthropological Religions.
Arrived at Pau towards 5.30; drenching rain: nothing to be seen.
At tea time, a good little discussion raised by a protest against Dante being praised for a complete survey of human nature and the many phases of human lot. Intensity he has, but insight over the whole field of character and life? Mr. G. did not make any stand against this, and made the curious admission that Dante was too optimist to be placed on a level with Shakespeare, or even with Homer.
Then we turned to lighter themes. He had once said to Henry Taylor, “I should have thought he was the sort of man to have a good strong grasp of a subject,” speaking of Lord Grey, who had been one of Taylor's many chiefs at the Colonial Office. “I should have thought,” replied Taylor slowly and with a dreamy look, “he was the sort of man to have a good strong nip of a subject.” Witty, and very applicable to many men.
Wordsworth once gave Mr. G. with much complacency, as an example of his own readiness and resource, this story. A man came up to him at Rydal and said, “Do you happen [pg 489] to have seen my wife.” “Why,” replied the Sage, “I did not know you had a wife!” This peculiarly modest attempt at pointed repartee much tickled Mr. G., as well it might.
Tuesday, Jan. 12.—Mr. G. completely recovered from two days of indisposition. We had about an hour's talk on things in general, including policy in the approaching session. He did not expect a dissolution, at the same time a dissolution would not surprise him.
At noon they started for Périgord and Carcassonne, Nismes, Arles, and so on to the Riviera full of kind things at our parting.