Tell M. Milsand, with my love, that if I belonged to his country, I should feel very proud at this time.  As to the Emperor, he is sublime.  He will appear so to all when he comes out of this war (as I believe) with clean and empty hands....

Robert gives ten scudi a month (a little more than two guineas) to the war as long as it lasts, and Peni is to receive half a paul every day he is good at his lessons, that he also may give to the great cause.  I must write a word to the dear nonno.  May God bless both of you, says your

Affectionate Sister,
BA.

* * * * *

To Mr. Browning, Senior

[Same date.]

Yes, indeed, I missed the revolution in Tuscany, dearest Nonno, which was a loss—­but perhaps, in compensation (who knows?), I shall be in for an Austrian bombardment or brigandage, or something as good or bad.  But, after all, you are not to be anxious about us because of a jest of mine.  We have Tuscan troops on the frontier, and French troops in the city, and although the Duchess of Parma has graciously given leave, they say, to the Austrians to cross her dominions in order to get into Tuscany, we shall be well defended.  We are all full of hope and calm, and never doubt of the result.  If ever there was a holy cause it is this; if ever there was a war on which we may lawfully ask God’s blessing, it is this.  The unanimity and constancy of the Italian people are beautiful to witness.  The affliction of ten years has ripened these souls.  Never was a contrast greater than what is to-day and what was in ’48.  No more distrust, nor division, nor vacillation, and a gratitude to the French nation which is quite pathetic.

Peni is all in a glow about Italy, and wishes he was ‘great boy enough’ to fight.  Meantime he does his lessons for the fighters—­half a paul a day when he is good.

Mr. del Bene thought him much improved in his music, and I hope he gets on in other things, and that when we bring him back to you (crowned with Italian laurels), you will think so too.  Meanwhile think of us and love us, dearest Nonno.  I always think of your kindness to me.

Your ever affectionate Daughter,
BA.

* * * * *

To Mr. Ruskin

Casa Guidi:  June 3, [1859].

My dear Mr. Ruskin,—­We send to you every now and then somebody hungry for a touch from your hand; we who are famished for it ourselves.  But this time we send you a man whom you will value perfectly for himself and be kind to from yourself, quite spontaneously.  He is the American artist, Page, an earnest, simple, noble artist and man, who carries his Christianity down from his deep heart to the point of his brush.  Draw him out to talk to you, and you will find it worth while.  He has learnt much from Swedenborg, and used it in his views upon art.  Much of it (if new) may sound to you wild and dreamy—­but the dream will admit of logical inference and philosophical induction, and when you open your eyes, it is still there.