our last in Florence, and we were all bachelors together there, and I
made tea, and we ate strawberries and cream and talked spiritualism
through one of the pleasantest two hours that I remember. Such a view!
Florence dissolving in the purple of the hills; and the stars looking
on. Mr. Tennyson was there, Mr. Powers, and M. Villari[25], an
accomplished Sicilian, besides our young host and ourselves. How we 'set
down' Faraday for his 'arrogant and insolent letter,' and what stories
we told, and what miracles we swore to! Oh, we are believers here, Isa,
except Robert, who persists in wearing a coat of respectable
scepticism--so considered--though it is much out of elbows and ragged
about the skirts. If I am right, you will none of you be able to
disbelieve much longer--a, new law, or a new development of law, is
making way everywhere. We have heard much--more than I can tell you in a
letter. Imposture is absolutely out of the question, to speak generally;
and unless you explain the phenomena by 'a personality unconsciously
projected' (which requires explanation of itself), you must admit the
spirit theory. As to the simpler forms of the manifestation (it is all
one manifestation), the 'turning-tables,' I was convinced long before
Faraday's letter that _many_ of the amateur performances were from
involuntary muscular action--but what then? These are only imitations of
actual phenomena. Faraday's letter does not meet the common fact of
tables being moved and lifted without the touch of a finger. It is a
most arrogant letter and singularly inconclusive. Tell me any facts you
may hear. Mr. Kinney, the American Minister at the Court of Turin, had
arrived at Florence a few days before we quitted it, and he and his wife
helped us to spend our last evening at Casa Guidi. He is cultivated and
high-minded. I like him much; and none the less that he brings hopeful
accounts of the state of Piedmont, of the progress of the people, and
good persistency of the King. It makes one's heart beat with the sense
that all is not over with our poor Italy.