out a new book of poems, a ‘Day at Tivoli,’ and others; and he talks energetically of coming to Florence this autumn.  Also, we have hopes of Mr. Chorley.  I congratulate you on the going away of Madame.  Coming and going bring very various associations in this life of ours.  Why, if you were to come we should appreciate our fortune, and you should have my particular chair, which Robert calls mine because I like sitting in a cloud; it’s so sybaritically soft a chair.  Now I love you for the kind words you say of him, who deserves the best words of the best women and men, wherever spoken!  Yes, indeed, I am happy.  Otherwise, I should have a stone where the heart is, and sink by the weight of it.  You must have faith in me, for I never can make you thoroughly to understand what he is, of himself, and to me—­the noblest and perfectest of human beings.  After a year and ten months’ absolute soul-to-soul intercourse and union, I have to look higher still for my first ideal.  You won’t blame me for bad taste that I say these things, for can I help it, when I am writing my heart to you?  It is a heart which runs over very often with a grateful joy for a most peculiar destiny, even in the midst of some bitter drawbacks which I need not allude to farther....

May God bless you continually, even as I am

Your affectionate
BA.

[Footnote 179:  The insurrection of Lombardy against Austrian rule had taken place in March, and was immediately followed by war between Sardinia and Austria, in which the Italians gained some initial successes.  Fighting continued through the summer, and was temporarily closed by an armistice in August.]

To Mrs. Jameson Palazzo Guidi:  July 15, [1848].

Now at last, my very dear friend, I am writing to you, and the reproach you sent to me in your letter shall not be driven inwardly any more by my self-reproaches.  Wasn’t it your fault after all, a little, that we did not hear one another’s voice oftener?  You are so long in writing.  Then I have been putting off and putting off my letter to you, just because I wanted to make a full letter of it; and Robert always says that it’s the bane of a correspondence to make a full letter a condition of writing at all.  But so much I had to tell you! while the mere outline of facts you had from others, I knew.  Which is just said that you may forgive us both, and believe that we think of you and love you, yes, and talk of you, even when we don’t write to you, and that we shall write to you for the future more regularly, indeed.  Your letter, notwithstanding its reproach, was very welcome and very kind, only you must be fagged with the book, and saddened by Lady Byron’s state of health, and anxious about Gerardine perhaps.  The best of all was the prospect you hold out to us of coming to Italy this year.  Do, do come.  Delighted we shall be to see you in Florence, and wise it will be in you to cast behind your back both the fear of Radetsky and as much English