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.

* * * * *

To Mr. Chorley

28 Via del Tritone, Rome:  April 13, [1860].

My dear Mr. Chorley,—­It is always better to be frank than otherwise; sometimes it is necessary to be frank—­that is when one would fain keep a friend, yet has a thing against him which burns in one.  I shall put my foot on this spark in a moment; but first I must throw it out of my heart you see, and here it is.

Dearest Mr. Chorley, you have not been just to me in the matter of my ‘Poems before Congress.’  Why have you not been just to me?  You are an honest man and my friend.  Those two things might go together.  Your opinions, critical or political, are free from stress of friendship.  I never expected from you favor or mercy because you were my friend (it would have been unworthy of us both) but I did expect justice from you, although you were my friend.  That is reasonable.