The Dall’ Ongaro here spoken of was an old friend of ours—­of my wife’s, if I remember right—­before our marriage.  He was a Venetian, or rather to speak accurately, I believe, a Dalmatian by birth, but all his culture and sympathies were Venetian.  He had in his early youth been destined for the priesthood, but like many another had been driven by the feelings and sympathies engendered by Italy’s political struggles to abandon the tonsure for the sake of joining the “patriot” cause.  His muse was of the drawing-room school and calibre.  But he wrote very many charming little poems breathing the warmest aspirations of the somewhat extreme gauche of that day, especially some stornelli after the Tuscan fashion, which met with a very wide and warm acceptance.  I remember one extremely happy, the refrain of which still runs in my head.  It is written on the newly-adopted Italian tricolour flag.  After characterising each colour separately in a couplet, he ends:—­

  “E il rosso, il bianco, e il verde,
  E un terno che si giuoca, e non si perde.”

The phrase is borrowed from the language of the lottery.  “And the red, and the white, and the green, are a threefold combination” [I am obliged to be horribly prosaic in order to make the allusion intelligible to non-Italian ears!] “on which we may play and be sure not to lose!”

I am tempted to give here another of Mrs. Browning’s letters to my first wife, partly by the persuasion that any letter of hers must be a matter of interest to a very large portion of English readers, and partly for the sake of the generously appreciative criticism of one of my brother’s books, which I also always considered to be one of his best.  I must add that Mrs. Browning’s one bit of censure coincides as perfectly with my own judgment.  The letter as usual is dateless, but must have been written very shortly after the publication of my brother’s novel called The Three Clerks.

“My dear Mrs. Trollope,—­I return The Three Clerks with our true thanks and appreciation.  We both quite agree with you in considering it the best of the three clever novels before the public.  My husband, who can seldom get a novel to hold him, has been held by all three, and by this the strongest.  Also it has qualities which the others gave no sign of.  For instance, I was wrung to tears by the third volume.  What a thoroughly man’s book it is!  I much admire it, only wishing away, with a vehemence which proves the veracity of my general admiration, the contributions to the Daily Delight—­may I dare to say it?

“I do hope you are better.  For myself, I have not suffered more than was absolutely necessary in the late unusual weather.

“I heard with concern that Mrs. Trollope” [my mother] “has been less well than usual.  But who can wonder, with such cold?

“Most truly yours,

“Elizabeth Barrett Browning.