28 Via del Tritone:
Monday and Tuesday [April 1860].

Ever dearest Isa,--I send you under this enclosure an abstract of some
papers given to me by somebody who can't be named, with a sketch of
Antonelli. I wasn't allowed to copy; I was only to abstract. But
everything is in. The whole has been verified and may be absolutely
relied on, I hear. So long I have waited for them. Should I have
translated them into Italian, I wonder? Or can Dall' Ongaro get to the
bottom of them so? Dates of birth are not mentioned, I observe. From
another quarter I may get those. About has the character of romancing a
little.

Not a word do you say of your health. Do another time. Remember that
your previous letter left you in bed.

Dearest Isa, how it touched me, your putting away the 'Saturday Review'!
But dear, don't care more for me than I do for myself. That very
Review, lent to us, _we_ lent to the Storys. Dear, the abuse of the
press is the justification of the poems; so don't be reserved about
these attacks. I was a little, little vexed by a letter this morning
from my brother George; but _pazienza_, we must bear these things.
Robert called yesterday on Odo Russell, who observed to him that the
article in the 'Saturday Review' was infamous, and that the general tone
of the newspaper had grown to be so offensive, he should cease to take
it in. (Not on my account, observe.) 'But,' said Mr. Russell, 'it's
extraordinary, the sensation your wife's book has made. Every paper I
see has something to say about it,' added he; 'it is curious. The
offence has been less in the objections to England than in the praise of
Napoleon. Certainly Monckton Milnes said a good thing when he was asked
lately in Paris what, after all, you English wanted. "_We want_" he
answered, "_first, that the Austrians should beat you French thoroughly;
next, we want that the Italians should be free, and then we want them to
be very grateful to us for doing nothing towards it._" This, concluded
Russell, 'sums up the whole question.' Mark, he is very English, but he
can't help seeing what lies before him, having quick perceptions,
moreover. Then men have no courage. Milnes, for instance, keeps his
sarcasm for Paris, and in England supports his rifle club and all
Parliamentary decencies.

Mind you read 'Blackwood.' Though I was rather vexed by George's letter
(he is awfully vexed) I couldn't help laughing at my sister Henrietta,
who accepts the interpretation of the 'Athenaeum' (having read the poems)
and exclaims, 'But, oh, Ba, such dreadful curses!'...

Mrs. Apthorp has arrived, but I have not seen her nor received the
paper. Pins were right, though I should have liked some smaller.
'Monitores' arrived up at the 12. Beyond, nothing. I hear that Mr.
Apthorp was struck with the 'brilliant conversation between you and
Miss Cobbe.' You made an impression too, on Mrs. Apthorp.

Oh, Isa, how I should like to be with you in our Florence to-day. Yes,
yes, I think of you. Here the day is gloomy, and with a sprinkling now
and then of rain. I trust you may have more sun. God bless the city and
the hills, and the people who dwell therein!

I have just sent a lyric to Thackeray for his magazine.[85] He begged me
for something long ago. Robert suggested that _now_ he probably wanted
nothing from such profane hands. So I told him that in that case he
might send me back my manuscripts. In the more favorable case it may be
still too late for this month. The poem is 'meek as maid,' though the
last thing I wrote--no touch of 'Deborah'--'_A Musical Instrument_.' How
good this 'Cornhill Magazine' is! Anthony Trollope is really superb.[86]
I only just got leave from Robert to send something: he is so averse to
the periodicals as mediums....

Lamoriciere's arrival produces a painful sensation among the people
here; and the withdrawal of the French troops has become most unpopular.
I am anxious. If the Emperor has consented to his coming, it was pure
magnanimity, and very characteristic; but the _cost of this_ should be
paid by France and not Italy, we must feel besides. I am content about
Savoy.

Dearest Isa, you and your 'Saturday Reviewer' shall have Robert's
portrait. Are you sure he didn't ask for _mine_? How good you are to us
and Landor! God bless you, says

Your tenderly loving
BA.