As to political affairs, I will use the word of Penini’s music-master when asked the other day how they went on—­’Divinamente,’ said he.  Things are certainly going divinamente.  I observe that, while politicians by profession, by the way, have various opinions, and hope and fear according to their temperaments, the people here are steadily sanguine, distrusting nobody if it isn’t a Mazzinian or a codino, and looking to the end with a profound interest, of course, but not any inquietude. ‘Divinamente’ things are going on.

There is an expectation, indeed, of fighting, but only with the Pope’s troops (and we all know what a ‘soldato del papa’ means), or with such mongrel defenders as can be got up by the convicts of Modena or Tuscany to give us an occasion of triumph presently.  The expected outburst in Sicily and the Neapolitan States will simply extend the movement.  That’s our way of thinking and hoping.  May God defend the right!

Mr. Probyn, a Liberal M.P., has come out here to appreciate the situation, and said last night that, after visiting the north of Italy and speaking with the chiefs, he is full of hope.  Not quite so is Cartwright, whom you know, and who came to us at Siena.  But Mr. Cartwright exceeds Dr. Cumming in the view of Napoleon, who isn’t Antichrist to him, but is assuredly the devil.  I like Mr. Cartwright, observe, but I don’t like his modes of political thinking, which are ‘after the strictest sect’ and the reddest-tape English.  He and his family are gone to Rome, and find the whole city ‘to be hired.’  Family men in general are not likely to go there this winter, and we shall find the coast very clear.  And you—­dearest friend, you seem to have given up Italy altogether this winter.  Unless you come to Rome, we shall not be the better for your crossing the Alps.  The Eckleys have settled in Florence till next year.  The Perkinses also.  Isa Blagden is at her villa, which, if she lets, she may pay Miss Cushman a visit in Rome towards the spring, but scarcely earlier.

After the dreary track of physical discomfort was passed, I enjoyed Siena much, and so did Robert, and the next time we have to spend a summer in Tuscany we shall certainly turn our faces that way.  When able to drive, I drove about with Robert and enjoyed the lovely country; and once, on the last day, I ventured into the gallery and saw the divine Eve of Sodoma for the second time.  But I never entered the cathedral—­think of that!  There were steps to be mounted.  But I have the vision of it safe within me since nine years ago.  The Storys, let me remember to tell you gratefully, were very kind and very delicate, offering all kindnesses I could receive, and no other....