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You say your letter is egotistic. It you used to play on dear old Gibson, is its greatest merit. Real friends wish and his tortoises, and my adventures at for such letters only. I know nobody Poli in the midst of the brigands with else in Rome but Gibson and Miss Iron- Mary Graham, née Dundas, afterwards sides. Oh, yes, little Ewing, if he is Lady Callcott. Lord and Lady Norstill alive ? All our little clique are dis- nanby were a good deal here and had persed, and the greatest part of them in grown detestable, — he with his black the land of spirits, freed from this tem- ringlets, and she a porpoise; and detestaporary exile called life, which leaves bly he has signalized his hatred of Itanot a wreck behind, or a few pictures ly. The Jockey Club of Florence has to be soon destroyed by cleaners, etc. ! expelled him, and his prating twaddle Vanitas vanitatum! Alas, poor Titian, goes on in that House of Humbug, temetc.!

poral and spiritual. I don't know any person alive who We have the King here at the Pitti. can even remember either of my grand- I expect to see Sir J. Hudson. He genfathers, and they were remarkable men. erally comes here with the King. One One was the first Latin scholar in Eng- can't judge from portraits, but I should land, and the other had a museum of think that our new princess will wear arts and antiquities, — all dispersed and the breeches.

the breeches. The Guelph face is not gone, like their dust. But we never real- promising, — jowl and goggle eyes; but ly die; twenty minutes of insensibility our Queen has been an exception to the in a trance is all. We awake and find vile race. The melancholy sight of her ourselves in the midst of our dearest old at the marriage would have given me friends. The bad man avoids them more pain than the pleasure of all that from an instinct of shame, and seeks his procession. I suppose she was not actequals, by whom he is persecuted until ing a part. There is many a waitinghe is saved and relieved by good spirits. woman knows more than we do. She We are all sons of God, even the worst does not part with her son as she was assassin. We are not responsible for obliged to do with her daughters. That our constitutions or our education, and was one comfort for her. there are no eternal pitchforks, brim- Trelawny used to say,

66 There are but stone, or hell, nor any such successful two passions of love, the mother's and rival to God as Monseigneur le Diable. the lover's. By God, they 'll go through This rests on better authority than any fire for you; all the rest is humbug.” book. It is curious that Moses, in all My affection for my little girl is much his books, never says one word about a increased. She is nine and a half, and future state. Of what use is religion

more of a friend.

At first she was only without it?

a baby. You have had more experience. I am writing you a sermon instead They want me to send her to England, of a letter. A nap will do you good. but I won't part with her, and she knows Do you remember Dean Swift's pews, not a word of the language. She would in his Baucis and Philemon ? - and I be as bad as deaf and dumb, and with often laugh at the remembrance of Den- none but strange faces, troppo trista ! nis Brulgruddery, the pew-opener, who I want to secure her here with a good was turned away because he snored so guardian after me. She goes to school loud that he woke all the congregation. daily. I care less for learning than hap

I remember how that old Westmacott piness. used to retail his good things at Rome, Adieu, my dear old friend. is he always the same ? — and you at

S. KIRKUP. Torlonia's masquerades, and the farces

1 John Gibson, the sculptor.

a

Yours ever,

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VI. FROM THE SAME.

friend of hers lately came to see me. FLORENCE, PONTE VECCHIO 2, Miss Ironsides was gifted as a medium, June 23, 1864.

but her weak vulgar mother extinguished MY DEAR SEVERN, Your last let her, and encouraged her in commonter was answered so long ago that I place studies under the direction of snobs don't remember what it contained. I when she might have been a painter of should have written again, but supposed the imagination, like my old friend Wilthat you were so engaged in diplomacy liam Blake, who I thought was mad, that you would find me troublesome. I though I don't think so now. wanted to recommend to you my friend Flaxman, Stothard, and Fuseli were Daniel Home, but I was sure if he all suspected, and so were Danby, Varwanted protection he would be sure to ley, and even Martin. Anyhow they find it in you, who have done so much were original, and showed mind; and good to your countrymen and others, and even old West was sometimes a mystic, I foresaw he would need it to defend and Barry and Loutherburg. him against the Jesuits and priests, who After I proved the truth of Spiritualare, of course, omnipotent in Rome ; and ism, which I scouted for a long time, I so it turned out, and I saw from the was induced to follow up my experiments newspapers that you had done all you in hopes of some day seeing something could for him. I can answer for his be- worthy to paint. I longed for a good ing neither an impostor nor a sorcerer vision, and do still, but I am not enough (which is absurd), and I have found him of a medium. I have only seen, heard, a man of honor, by actions, not by words and felt enough to be sure of the existof his or hearsay of others, and I know ence of spirits. Neither books nor men him to be very generous though poor, were enough for me, and I sought witand good-hearted. All which is in his nesses of my experience, and would not favor, and so likewise are the phenomena rely on my own impressions alone, which that spontaneously accompany him, and might have been effects of imagination, of which I have had sufficient experience waking dreams ! in my own house, watched and guarded But when half a dozen people were with the most suspicious incredulity, present, they could not all be dreamwhich is stronger with me than with ing of the same thing. A lady wrote to most people, as perhaps you may remem me the other day that Home had been ber, for I was always so.

raised in the air a hundred times since My own proofs of our existence after he came to London, and had been seen death are entirely independent of Home, by a thousand people. Basta! you have and began before I knew him or the doubtless heard enough about it, and I works of Judge Edmonds, which con have seen enough in my own house. firmed them, and they settled my creed, What are you doing in painting? very far from a canonical one, either Bible subjects are worn out, and were Roman or Calvinistic, which, entre nous, never interesting to me. I have an Italare about equally blasphemous and Jew- ian book that says the Madonna ought ish. But I will not write all I could, to be painted ugly, as she was sixty for fear this should never reach you. I when she died. Young John lived to a doubt if all your letters have come to hundred, and was buried, but never died; me, and the one I have just received his grave moves. He is waiting for the was left for me (I was out) by a priest! last day to fulfill the prophecies. Read

I know the Frescobaldis and Mr. Sir John Mandeville's travels in the East Hart.

in 1345,- an orthodox Englishman ! Do you ever see Miss Ironsides ? A

I have been long an admirer of Dante,

room.

If you

VII. FROM THE SAME.

but I think Shakespeare a greater poet. his friends. It was a perfect surprise Dante has been much with me in this to me, always the same poor devil of a

His

poem is not true, and Bea- painter, on which account I only call trice was not a Portinari, as it has myself chevalier. I am not rich enough proved. The Pope has forbid the title to live in baronial state. Poor knights of “ La Divina Commedia.”

are common enough, even at Windsor ! Here is too long a yarn for a busy Painters never get beyond the rank of man like

you. I wonder if you could knight, - Sir Peter Paul, Sir Anthony, get for me the report of a trial in Rome, Sir Peter, Sir Godfrey, down to Sir printed about fifteen years ago, of a Joshua, etc., etc. Count Alberti, for forging and selling In Paris I knew three painters in some manuscripts of Tasso.

1816 whom Napoleon I. had created could secure me a copy, I will take care barons, David, Gros, and Gérard, whose to repay you and let you have the read- sons are now senators, diplomats, etc. ing of it before you send it me, either Marochetti, who lately died in Engby the post or private hand. It is very land, was an Italian baron, and there curious and would amuse you.

Tasso is a landscape painter, whose name I was in favor with good spirits like Soc- forget. rates. Adieu, dear Severn.

I have no

news to tell you. The Yours affectionately,

government and the chambers are all S. KIRKUP. engrossed by the reform of the finances.

They have a difficult task, and have

neglected it too long. If they don't FLORENCE, 2, PONTE VECCHIO, succeed now it will soon be too late. primo po, April 4, 1868.

What think you of Bonaparte's dodge MY DEAR SEVERN, — The sight of to keep Italy divided, by offering the your handwriting gave me great plea- Venetians their ancient republic, and

I knew it again directly. After their refusal of it in order to join Italy? so many years that I have known you, We live in strange times. I have alabout fifty, I think! How strange it is ways observed Monseigneur Bonaparte, that the writing and the mind remain now his Eminence, next his Sanctity. the same, though our carcasses have been That is what they are aiming at. Beentirely changed and renewed above sides that, a king of Rome is looming sixteen times in that period ! So says in the distance, and at one time a King Liebig, the greatest physiologist of the Murat was in view for Naples. A age. I have been following that study friend of yours said the other day, You lately, having been too long engrossed have only changed masters, - French by that of psychology, and I have found instead of Germans. Basta! one must them both full of wonders.

not talk politics to you. Your position Have you heard that the King has is delicately neutral, and you have made me a knight and a baron ? For enough to do in your official capacity some discoveries I made in Florence with

your benevolence. respecting Dante, so I suppose ; all that I was very sorry to hear of Miss Ironis said in my diploma and other papers sides' death. Her mother came to me is, “ In considerazione di particolari bene- on her way to England. I showed her merenze.” I never knew more, and the a drawing of a vision she (Miss I.) minister who recommended me to him had drawn in my house, which vision died of the cholera in Sicily. He was she saw in a crystal ball. The mother a Sicilian, and I had never heard his kissed it and shed tears. It was rename till then (Natoli), or knew

any

of morse for taking her from Florence to

sure.

Rome, to paint vulgar, worn-out Bible free. They are both mediums, the forsubjects that nobody cares for any long mer ever since she was two years old. er, they are so commonplace in Catholic If you have ever been photographed, churches, and excluded in Protestant send me one. I shall value it. Adieu, ones ;

whilst the Catholics forbid the my dear old friend. Bible, of which they are afraid, and Yours very sincerely, perhaps ashamed, like our poor friend

SEYMOUR KIRKUP. Charles Brown, whose son is, I believe, alive. Do you know? I heard a long Seymour Kirkup first met Severn at time ago that he was very prosperous in the interment of Shelley's ashes in the New Zealand. Brown had been a good old cemetery of Monte Testaccio, in friend of Keats. They wrote a tragedy Rome, and he died before his friend together (Otho).

was laid beside the other great poet I hear that Keats's monument is al- with whom his name is so closely assoready in ruin. The English in Rome ciated. Charles Brown, who died at might subscribe a trifle to restore it. Taranaki, New Zealand, in 1842, was Shelley's is in fine preservation. We not “ashamed” of the Bible ; but he were together at his funeral. I should was a deist, and to the last refused to have attended Keats’s, but I was in bed have anything to do with official expowith the fever. Old Morgan died here nents of Christianity. Though he died not long ago. He was near ninety, Lan at that then remote settlement, his burial dor ditto, and one old English painter, was attended by two men of a differGiacomo Smith, one hundred and six- ent stamp from his fellow pioneer-coloteen.

nists : John George Cooke, an intimate If you see Mrs. Trelawny, remember friend of Trelawny's, and the late Alfred me to her. She is a very superior woman, Domett, so much better known, doubtand her daughter a fine creature. Is less, by the name of " Waring,” conDesoulavy alive and in Rome? An ex ferred upon him by Robert Browning. cellent fellow, sincere and unaffected. Among the Severn manuscripts is a long What became of Ewing, Evans, Lane, letter from Mr. Domett, in which he Renny, McDonald, Tenerani, Agricola, states that he purchased at Buffalo, Minardi, Snetz, and all the Frenchmen? N. Y., so long ago as 1826, an American I met Madame Terlink the other day, edition of Keats's and Shelley's poems. and the Genoese miniature-painter, whose This was about the same time that the name I forget. I think he married youthful poet Browning tried in vain to Moschi's sister.

obtain a copy of Shelley's writings in his I am living now with a little daughter. part of London, where no booksellers She is now fourteen. Her maid is an kept such an ansalable book as the

poems ex-nun, very good, and glad to be of unknown John Keats.

William Sharp. 1 I have come across more than one state Son (written in great part during his stay with ment to this effect. But the mistaken idea is Brown in Florence) were from Brown's and probably due to the fact that Trelawny used Keats's drama, Otho.” The manuscript beto say that most of the mottoes heading his longed to Brown after Keats's death, but he chapters in The Adventures of a Younger was not joint author.

LONDON AND OXFORD: THREE SONNETS.

I.

Fog.
LIKE bodiless water passing in a sigh,
Thro' palsied streets the fatal shadows flow,
And in their sharp disastrous undertow
Suck in the morning sun and all the sky;
The towery acres sink upon

the

eye
As if they heard the Hebrew bugles blow,
Sullen and black; nor could the founders know
How what was built so bright could daily die.

Thy heart with man's is broken and blent in,
City of Stains ! and ache of thought doth drown
The natural light in which thy life began :
Great as thy dole is, smirchëd with our sin,
Greater and elder yet the love of man
Full in thy look, tho' the dark visor 's down.

II.

Rooks in New College Gardens.
THRO' rosy cloud and over thorny towers,
Their wings with all the autumn distance filled,
From Isis’ valley border hundred-hilled
The rooks are crowding home as evening lowers.
For their coequal session and for ours
By battled walls did lovely Wykeham build
These dewy spaces early sown and stilled,
These dearest inland melancholy bowers.

Blest birds! A book held open on the knee
Below is all they know of Adam's blight.
With surer art the while, and simpler rite,
They live and learn in some monastic tree,
Where breathe against their innocent breasts by night
The scholar's star, the star of sanctity.

III.

On First Entering Westminster Abbey. THABOR of England ! since my light is short And faint, oh, rather by the sun anew

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