“And I am neither god nor beast, if you please—­only a

“BA.”

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[Footnote 1:  These dots do not indicate any hiatus.  They exist in the MS. as here given.]

It seems that she certainly imagined me to be the critic; but must have been subsequently undeceived.  I will not venture to say a word on the question of the marring or making of a man which results from the creation of a poet; but if my brother had known Mrs. Browning as well as I knew her, he would not have written that he could “hardly believe that she herself believes in the doctrine that her fancy has led her to illustrate.”  At all events, the divine afflatus had not so marred the absolutely single-minded truthfulness of the woman in her as to make it possible that she should, for the sake of illustrating, however appositely, any fancy however brilliant, put forth a “doctrine” as believing in it, which she did not believe.  It may seem that this is a foolish making of a mountain out of a molehill; but she would not have felt it to be so.  She had so high a conception of the poet’s office and responsibilities that nothing would have induced her to play at believing for literary purposes any position, or fancy, or imagination, which she did not in her heart of hearts accept.

There was one subject upon which both my wife and I disagreed in opinion with Mrs. Browning; and it was a subject which sat very near her heart, and was much occupying all minds at that time—­the phases of Italy’s struggle for independence, and especially the part which the Emperor Napoleon the Third was taking in that struggle, and his conduct towards Italy.  We were all equally “Italianissimi,” as the phrase went then; all equally desirous that Italy should accomplish the union of her disjecta membra, throw off the yoke of the bad governments which had oppressed her, make herself a nation, and do well as such.  But we differed widely as to the ultimate utility, the probable results, and, above all, as to the motives of the Emperor’s conduct.  Mrs. Browning believed in him and trusted him.  We did neither.  Hence the following interesting and curious letter, written to my wife at Florence by Mrs. Browning, who was passing the summer at Siena.  Mrs. Browning felt very warmly upon this subject—­so indeed did my wife, differing from her toto coelo upon it.  But the difference not only never caused the slightest suspension of cordial feeling between them, but never caused either of them to doubt for a moment that the other was with equal sincerity and equal ardour anxious for the same end.  The letter was written, as only the postmark shows, on September 26th, 1859, and was as follows:—­

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“MY DEAR MRS. TROLLOPE,—­I feel doubly ungrateful to you ... for the music (one of the proofs of your multiform faculty) and for your kind and welcome letter, which I have delayed to thank you for.  My body lags so behind my soul always, and especially of late, that you must consider my disadvantages in whatever fault is committed by me trying to forgive it.