The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Volume 2 of 2)

I had a visit a day ago from M. Carl Grün, a Prussian, with a letter of introduction from Dall' Ongaro. I feel a real regard and liking for Dall' Ongaro, and would welcome any friend of his. No—my Isa. I would prefer him as my translator to any 'young lady of twenty.' Heavens, never whisper it to the Marchesa, but I confide to you that my blood ran cold at that thought. I know what poets of twenty must in all probability be—Dall' Ongaro is a poet, and has a remarkable command of language.

To Miss I. Blagden

... Let me answer your questions concerning Non Pio V.E. Se non vero, ben trovato. Very happy, and I hope true. Probably enough it may be true, though I never heard it but from you. There was a banner with 'Viva Pio IX.' on one side, and 'Viva V.E. re d'Italia' on the other—that's true. And various devices we have had, miraculous rains of revolutionary placards among the rest. The French have taken to 'protect' our demonstrations here, half by way of keeping them under, perhaps—although the sympathy between the people and the troops (Gorgon apart) has been always undeniable. You know there was to be a gigantic demonstration to meet the declaration in the North. It was fixed to spread itself over three days. The French politely begged the 'papalini' to keep out of sight, and then they marched with the Roman demonstration for two days—twenty thousand Romans gathered together, I hear from those who were there, the greatest order observed—tricolors insinuated into the costume of all the women. After a certain time, French officer turns round and addresses the populace 'Gioventù Romana, basta cosí. Adesso bisogna andare a casa, poichè mi farebbe grandissimo dispiacere d' aprire ad alcuno la strada delle carceri.' The last words said smiling—as words to the wise. 'Grazie, grazie, grazie' were replied on all sides, and the people dispersed in the best humour possible. Yesterday (San Giuseppe) we were to have had it repeated, but it rained hard, which was fortunate, perhaps; and I hear something of cannons being placed in evidence, and of Gorgon saying 'de haute voix' that he couldn't allow it to go on. But everybody understands Gorgon. He has certainly, up to a point, Papal sympathies, and is as tender as he dares be to the Holy Father, and the irritation and wrath of the priestly party is naturally great. On the other hand, the whole body of French troops and their officers are as much vexed by Gorgon as Gorgon can vex me, and there's fraternisation with the Romans to an extraordinary degree.

Pantaleone is exiled—ordered to go in eight days, three of which are passed. He is still in hopes of gaining more time, but the Pope is said to be resolutely set against him. I am very sorry, not surprised. He told Robert yesterday, that nothing can be surer than that Napoleon has been throughout a true friend to Italy. Which is a good deal for a man to admit who began with all the irritation against Napoleon of a Roman of 1849. Even after the war, through Villafranca, the bad feeling returned, and as he lives so much among the English, it was only natural that he should receive certain influences. He is with Odo Russell (who calls him Pant) nearly every day, and Mr. Cartwright is very intimate with him besides. But P. is above all things Italian, and the Italian of the most incisive intellect I ever talked with. He praises Lord John.

To Miss Browning

As to age—no! it's cruel of you to talk so. Robert's beard was tolerably white when he was in Paris last, and, in fact, his moustache is less so than the rest, therefore there can't be, and isn't in this respect, so rapid a 'decline and fall' in his appearance. The clipping of the side whiskers, which are very grey, is an advantage, and as to the hair, it is by no means cut short. 'Like an épicier?' No indeed. The épicier is bushy and curly about the ears (see an example in 'Galignani'), and moreover will keep the colour of the curl 'if he dyes for it'—an extremity to which Robert and I will never be driven—having too much the fear of attentive friends and affectionate biographers before our eyes—as suggested by poor Balzac's. But Robert is looking remarkably well and young—in spite of all lunar lights in his hair. Though my hair keeps darker with a certain sprinkle however, underneath which forces its way outwards, I would willingly change on the whole with him, if he were not my own Robert. He is not thin or worn, as I am—no indeed—and the women adore him everywhere far too much for decency. In my own opinion he is infinitely handsomer and more attractive than when I saw him first, sixteen years ago—which does not mean as much as you may suppose, that I myself am superannuated and wholly anile, and incompetent therefore for judgment. No, indeed, I believe people in general would think the same exactly. And as to the modelling—well, I told you that I grudged a little the time from his own particular art—and that is true. But it does not do to dishearten him about his modelling. He has given a great deal of time to anatomy with reference to the expression of form, and the clay is only the new medium which takes the place of drawing. Also, Robert is peculiar in his ways of work as a poet. I have struggled a little with him on this point—for I don't think him right—that is to say, it wouldn't be right for me—and I heard the other day that it wouldn't be right for Tennyson. Tennyson is a regular worker, shuts himself up daily for so many hours. And we are generally so made that a regular hour is good, even for so uncertain an influence as mesmerism. But Robert waits for an inclination—works by fits and starts—he can't do otherwise he says.[98] Then reading hurts him. As long as I have known him he has not been able to read long at a time—he can do it now better than in the beginning of time. The consequence of which is that he wants occupation and that an active occupation is salvation to him with his irritable nerves, saves him from ruminating bitter cud, and from the process which I call beating his dear head against the wall till it is bruised, simply because he sees a fly there, magnified by his own two eyes almost indefinitely into some Saurian monster. He has an enormous superfluity of vital energy, and if it isn't employed, it strikes its fangs into him. He gets out of spirits as he was at Havre. Nobody understands exactly why—except me who am in the inside of him and hear him breathe. For the peculiarity of our relation is, that even when he's displeased with me, he thinks aloud with me and can't stop himself. And I know ultimately that whatever takes him out of a certain circle (where habits of introvision and analysis of fly-legs are morbidly exercised), is life and joy to him. I wanted his poems done this winter very much—and here was a bright room with three windows consecrated to use. But he had a room all last summer, and did nothing. Then, he worked himself out by riding for three or four hours together—there has been little poetry done since last winter, when he did much. He was not inclined to write this winter. The modelling combines body-work and soul-work, and the more tired he has been, and the more his back ached, poor fellow, the more he has exulted and been happy—'no, nothing ever made him so happy before'—also the better he has looked and the stouter grown. So I couldn't be much in opposition against the sculpture—I couldn't, in fact, at all. He has the material for a volume, and will work at it this summer, he says. His power is much in advance of 'Strafford,' which is his poorest work of all. Oh, the brain stratifies and matures creatively, even in the pauses of the pen.

I have been meditating, Sarianna, dear, whether we might not make our summer out at Fontainebleau in the picturesque part of the forest. It would be quiet, and not very dear. And we might dine together and take hands as at Havre—for we will all insist on Robert's doing the hospitality. I confess to shrinking a good deal about the noise of Paris—we might try Paris later. What do you say? The sea is so very far—it is such a journey—it looks so to me just now. And the south of France is very hot—as hot as Italy—besides making you pay greatly 'for your whistle.' Switzerland would increase both expenses and journey for everybody. Fontainebleau is said to be delicious in the summer, and if you don't mind losing your sea bathing, it might answer. Arabel wants me to go to England, but as I did not last year my heart and nerves revolt from it now. Besides, we belong to the nonno and you this summer. Arabel can and, I dare say, will join us. And Milsand? You say 'once in three years.' Not quite so, I think. In any case, it has been far worse with some of mine. All the days of the three times of meeting in fourteen years, can only be multiplied together into three weeks; and this after a life of close union! Also, it was not her fault—she had not pecuniary means. I am bitter against myself for not having gone to England for a week or two in the Havre year. I could have done it, Robert would have let me. But now, no more. It was the war the year before last, and my unsteadiness of health last year, which kept us from our usual visit to you. This time we shall come.

To Mrs. Martin

I had a letter from George yesterday with good news of dearest Mrs. Martin. May it be true. But I can't understand whether you have spent this winter in Devonshire or Worcestershire, or where. The thick gloom of it is over now, yet I find myself full of regrets. It's so hard to have to get out into the workday world, daylight, open air and all, and there's a duty on me to go to France, that Robert may see his father. You would pity me if you could see how I dread it. Arabel will meet me, and spend at least the summer with us, probably in the neighbourhood of Paris, and after just the first, we—even I—may be the happier. Don't tell anyone that I feel so. I should like to go into a cave for the year. Not that I haven't taken to work again, and to my old interests in politics. One doesn't quite rot in one's selfishness, after all. In fact, I think of myself as little as possible; it's the only way to bear life, to throw oneself out of the personal.

We remain here (where we have had the mildest of winters) till somewhat late in May, when we go to Florence for a week or two on our way to Paris.

You see my Emperor is 'crowning the edifice';[99] it is the beginning. Sir John Bowring says that the more liberty he can give, the better he will like it. He told Sir John so.

Is it right and loyal meanwhile of Guizot and his party to oppose the Empire by upholding the enemies of Italy? I ask you. Such things I hear from Paris! Guizot corrected Keller's speech with his own hand.

May God bless you! Pen's love and gratitude. If Robert were here he would be named. Love me and think of me a little.

Your ever affectionate and grateful

Ba.

To Miss Browning

Your account of the dearest nonno was very pleasant on the whole, only, of course, you will be very careful with him. And then, dearest Sarianna, you yourself have not been well. The grippe seems to have been bitter against you. This is the time of year when it generally rages, and even Pen has had a small cough, which makes me austere about hours. In fact, the weather in the north has reverberated here, and we have paid for our mild winter by a considerable lingering of cold wind, from snow on the mountains, they say. As for me, it's much to my disadvantage in getting air and strength. I hope you are quite well again, as is Pen, and that the loved nonno is as strong as he ever was. Do you get good wine for him? The vintages are said to have suffered (which grieves me for poor dear Milsand) from the frost. We hear of travellers in snowstorms through England, where the cold has been great, and that in Paris, too, there has been snow. I do hope the opening summer will not copy the last.

The Duchesse de Grammont (French Embassy) sent us a card for Penini—'matinée d'enfants'—and he went, and was rather proud of being received under a full-length portrait of Napoleon, who is as dear as ever to him. It was a very splendid affair, quite royal. Pen wore a crimson velvet blouse, and was presented to various small Italian princes, Colonnas, Dorias, Piombinos, and had the honor of talking ponies and lessons and playing leap-frog with them. The ambassador's own boy, the little Grammont, has a pony 'tale quale' like Pen's, only superannuated rather, which gives us the advantage....

Robert has brought me home a most perfect copy of a small torso of Venus—from the Greek—in the clay. It is wonderfully done, say the learned. He says 'all his happiness lies in clay now'; that was his speech to me this morning. Not a compliment, but said so sincerely and fervently, that I could not but sympathise and wish him a life-load of clay to riot in. It's the mixture of physical and intellectual effort which makes the attraction, I imagine. Certainly he is very well and very gay.

The incident alluded to in the last paragraph deserves fuller mention, for the credit it does to both parties concerned in it. The letters that passed between Thackeray and Mrs. Browning on the subject have been given by Mrs. Richmond Ritchie in the 'Cornhill Magazine' for July 1896, from which I am allowed to quote them. Mrs. Browning, in reply to a request from Thackeray for contributions to the then newly established 'Cornhill,' had sent him, among other poems, 'Lord Walter's Wife,'[100] of which, though the moral is unimpeachable, the subject is not absolutely virginibus puerisque. The editor, in this difficulty, wrote the following admirable letter:—

W.M. Thackeray to Mrs. Browning.

Mrs. Browning's answer follows.

Our friend Mr. Story has just finished a really grand statue of the 'African Sybil.' It will place him very high.

Before leaving Florence, however, the following letter was written to Mr. Thackeray, which I quote from the same article by Mrs. Ritchie. The poem alluded to must, however, be 'The North and the South,'[101] Mrs. Browning's last poem, written with reference to Hans Andersen's visit to Rome; not 'A Musical Instrument,' as Mrs. Ritchie suggests, which had been written some time previously.

To W.M. Thackeray

Rome, 126 Via Felice: [May 21, 1861].

Dear Mr. Thackeray,—I hope you received my note and last poem. I hope still more earnestly that you won't think I am putting my spite against your chastening hand into a presumptuous and troublesome fluency.

But Hans Christian Andersen is here, charming us all, and not least the children. So I wrote these verses—not for 'Cornhill' this month, of course—though I send them now that they may lie over at your service (if you are so pleased) for some other month of the summer.

We go to Florence on the first of June, and lo! here is the twenty-first of May.

With love to dear Annie and Minny,

I remain, most truly yours,

Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

To Miss I. Blagden

Ever dearest Isa,—Now that Robert's letter is gone, I am able for shame to write. His waiting did not mean a slackness of kindness, but a tightness of entanglement in other things; and then absolutely he has got to the point of doing without reading. Nothing but clay does he care for, poor lost soul. But you will see, I hope, from what he has written (to judge by what he speaks), that he is not so lost as to be untouched by Agnes.[102]...

I send you, dear, two more translations for Dall' Ongaro. You will have given him my former message. I began that letter to him, and was interrupted; and then, considering the shortness of our time here, would not begin another. You will have explained, and will make him thoroughly understand, that in sending him a verbal and literal translation I never thought of exacting such a thing from him, but simply of letting him have the advantage of seeing the raw, naked poetry as it stands. In fact, my translation is scarcely Italian, I know very well. I mean it for English rather. Conventional and idiomatical Italian forms have been expressly avoided. I have used the Italian as a net to catch the English in for the use of an Italian poet! Let him understand.

We shall be soon in our Florence now. I am rather stronger, but so weak still that my eyes dazzle to think of it. Povera me!

Tell Dall' Ongaro that his friend M. Carl Grün had enough of me in one visit. He never came again, though I prayed him to come. I have not been equal to receiving in the evening, and perhaps he expected an invitation. I go to bed at eight on most nights. I'm the rag of a Ba. Yet I am stronger, and look much so, it seems to me. Mr. Story is doing Robert's bust, which is likely to be a success.[103] Hatty brought us a most charming design for a fountain for Lady Marion Alford. The imagination is unfolding its wings in Hatty. She is quite of a mind to spend the summer with you at Florence or elsewhere. The Storys talk of Switzerland....

Andersen (the Dane) came to see me yesterday—kissed my hand, and seemed in a general verve for embracing. He is very earnest, very simple, very childlike. I like him. Pen says of him, 'He is not really pretty. He is rather like his own ugly duck, but his mind has developed into a swan.'

That wasn't bad of Pen, was it? He gets on with his Latin too. And, Isa, he has fastened a half-franc to his button-hole, for the sake of the beloved image, and no power on earth can persuade him out of being so ridiculous. I was base enough to say that it wouldn't please the Queen of Spain! And he responded, he 'chose her to know that he did love Napoleon'!

Isa, I send these two last poems that Dall' Ongaro may be aware of my sympathy's comprehending more sides than one of Italian experience.

We have taken no apartment yet!!!

To Miss Browning

I can't let Robert's disagreeable letter go alone, dearest Sarianna, though my word will be as heavy as a stone at the bottom of it. I am deeply sorry you should have had the vain hope of seeing Robert and Pen. As for me, I know my place; I am only good for a drag chain. But, dear, don't fancy it has been the fault of my will. In fact, I said almost too much at Rome to Robert, till he fancied I had set my selfwill on tossing myself up as a halfpenny, and coming down on the wrong side. Now, in fact, it was not at all (nearly) for Arabel that I wished to go, only I did really wish and do my best to go. He, on the other hand, before we left Rome, had made up his mind (helped by a stray physician of mine, whom he met in the street) that it would be a great risk to carry me north. He (Robert) always a little exaggerates the difficulties of travelling, and there's no denying that I have less strength than is usual to me even at the present time. I touched the line of vexing him, with my resistance to the decision, but he is so convinced that repose is necessary for me, and that the lions in the path will be all asleep by this time next year, that I yielded. Certainly he has a right to command me away from giving him unnecessary anxieties. What does vex me is that the dearest nonno should not see his Peni this year, and that you, dear, should be disappointed, on my account again. That's hard on us all. We came home into a cloud here. I can scarcely command voice or hand to name Cavour.[104] That great soul, which meditated and made Italy, has gone to the Diviner country. If tears or blood could have saved him to us, he should have had mine. I feel yet as if I could scarcely comprehend the greatness of the vacancy. A hundred Garibaldis for such a man. There is a hope that certain solutions had been prepared between him and the Emperor, and that events will slide into their grooves. May God save Italy! Dear M. Milsand had pleased me so by his appreciation, but there are great difficulties. The French press, tell him, has, on the whole, done great service, except that part of it under the influence of the ultramontane and dynastic opposition parties. And as to exaggerated statements, it is hard, even here, to get at the truth (with regard to the state of the south), and many Italian liberals have had hours of anxiety and even of despondency. English friends of ours, very candid and liberal, have gone to Naples full of hope, and returned hoping nothing—yet they are wrong, unless this bitter loss makes them right—

Of the last scene no other account need be asked or wished for than that given by Mr. Browning himself in a letter to Miss Haworth, dated July 20, 1861.[105]

My dear Friend,—I well know you feel, as you say, for her once and for me now. Isa Blagden, perfect in all kindness to me, will have told you something, perhaps, and one day I shall see you and be able to tell you myself as much as I can. The main comfort is that she suffered very little pain, none beside that ordinarily attending the simple attacks of cold and cough she was subject to, had no presentiment of the result whatever, and was consequently spared the misery of knowing she was about to leave us: she was smilingly assuring me that she was 'better,' 'quite comfortable, if I would but come to bed,' to within a few minutes of the last. I think I foreboded evil at Rome, certainly from the beginning of the week's illness, but when I reasoned about it, there was no justifying fear. She said on the last evening 'It is merely the old attack, not so severe a one as that of two years ago; there is no doubt I shall soon recover,' and we talked over plans for the summer and next year. I sent the servants away and her maid to bed, so little reason for disquietude did there seem. Through the night she slept heavily and brokenly—that was the bad sign; but then she would sit up, take her medicine, say unrepeatable things to me, and sleep again. At four o'clock there were symptoms that alarmed me; I called the maid and sent for the doctor. She smiled as I proposed to bathe her feet, 'Well, you are determined to make an exaggerated case of it!' Then came what my heart will keep till I see her again and longer—the most perfect expression of her love to me within my whole knowledge of her. Always smilingly, happily, and with a face like a girl's, and in a few minutes she died in my arms, her head on my cheek. These incidents so sustain me that I tell them to her beloved ones as their right: there was no lingering, nor acute pain, nor consciousness of separation, but God took her to Himself as you would lift a sleeping child from a dark uneasy bed into your arms and the light. Thank God! Annunziata thought, by her earnest ways with me, happy and smiling as they were, that she must have been aware of our parting's approach, but she was quite conscious, had words at command, and yet did not even speak of Peni, who was in the next room. The last word was, when I asked, 'How do you feel?' 'Beautiful.'...

It is with words adapted from this memorial that her husband, seven years later, closed his own great poem, praying that the 'ring,' to which he likens it, might but—

INDEX

• Abd-el-Kader, i. 388
• Aberdeen, Lord, ii. 109
• About, E., ii. 226
• Æschylus, i. 118, 168, 210;
• Translation of his 'Prometheus Bound,' i. 244
• Agassiz, Miss, i. 458, 467, 468
• Alexander, Sir William, i. 106
• America, literary piracy in, i. 451;
• appreciation of Mrs. Browning's poetry, i. 118, 120, 131, 177, 178, 218, ii. 253, 364, 387;
• of Robert Browning, ii. 436;
• the slavery question, ii. 111, 411, 417, 419, 439
• Anacreon, translation from, i. 263
• Ancona, i. 381
• Andersen, Hans Christian, ii. 446, 448
• Andrea del Sarto, i. 121
• Appleton, Mr., ii. 133
• Apuleius, translations from, i. 249, 250
• Arnold, Dr. Thomas, i. 206, 207
• Arnold, Matthew, i. 429
• Arnould, Mr., ii. 16
• Arqua, ii. 9
• 'Athenæum,' the, i. 37, 64, 69, 71, 91, 93, 95, 117, 120, 133, 180, 193, 207, 227, 256, 446, 469, ii. 171, 242, 243, 334, 366
• 'Atlas,' the, i. 64, 69, 181, 194, 199, ii. 370
• Austen, Jane, ii. 217
• Austria, war with France and Italy, ii. 305 ff.
• Azeglio, Massimo d', ii. 308, 312, 389

• Baillie, Joanna, i. 230
• Balzac, H. de, i. 319, 363, 375, 428, 442, 462, ii. 71
• Barnes, William, i. 223
• Barrett, Alfred, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 20, 121, ii. 18;
• marriage, ii. 207
• Barrett, Arabel, sister of E.B.B., i. 2, 10, 19, 20, 39, 52, 70, 71, 76, 77, 81, 82, 124, 242, 270, 294, ii. 12, 18, 172, 180, 210, 235, 237, 264, 292
• Barrett, Charles John ('Stormie'), brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 29, 86, 121, 151, 152, 189, 242, 251
• Barrett, Edward ('Bro'), brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 11, 14, 29, 42, 47, 53, 55, 74, 76, 77;
• his death, 83
• Barrett, Edward Moulton, father of E.B.B., i. 1, 2, 11, 27, 76, 82, 86, 179, 291, 407, 435, 438, 439, ii. 18, 20, 178, 180, 237;
• death, 263 ff.
• Barrett, afterwards Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, birth, i. 1;
• childhood and youth at Hope End, 3-6;
• removal to Sidmouth, 10;
• to London (74 Gloucester Place), 31;
• failure of health, ib.;
• removal to 50 Wimpole Street, 56;
• publication of 'The Seraphim,' ib. 63;
• breaking of a blood-vessel, ib.;
• removal to Torquay, 74;
• death of her brother Edward, 83;
• return to London, 91;
• publication of the 'Poems' of 1844, 180-188, 193 ff.;
• proposed journey to Italy in 1845, 266 ff.;
• love and marriage, 280 ff.;
• departure from England, ib.;
• at Pisa, 302 ff.;
• Florence, 325;
• expedition to Vallombrosa, 332 ff.;
• settlement at Casa Guidi, 365, 372;
• birth of a son, 395;
• her name suggested for the Laureateship, 449, 452;
• illness, 456, 458;
• travels, ii. 1 ff.;
• publication of 'Casa Guidi Windows,' 2;
• visit to England, 13 ff.;
• residence in Paris, 22 ff.;
• the Coup d'état in France, 30 ff.;
• second visit to London, 76;
• verses by, 81;
• return to Paris, 89;
• to Florence, 91;
• first visit to Rome, 146;
• severe illness, 202;
• visit to England, 205 ff.;
• to Paris, 215 ff.;
• last visit to England, 235 ff.;
• publication of 'Aurora Leigh,' 240;
• carnival in Florence, 256 ff.;
• visit to Bagni di Lucca, 267 ff.;
• last visit to France, 280 ff.;
• winter in Rome, 292 ff.;
• the war with Austria, 305 ff.;
• summer at Siena, 319 ff.;
• severe illness, 325;
• winter in Rome, 352 ff.;
• publication of 'Poems before Congress,' 363;
• last summer at Siena, 400;
• last winter in Rome, 408 ff.;
• death, 450 ff.
• Portraits:
• by Reade, ii. 144;
• by Miss Fox, ii. 151;
• by Leighton, ii. 310;
• by Field Talfourd, ii. 404;
• bust by Story, ii. 448 note.
• Her knowledge of Greek literature, i. 101, 102, 242;
• opinions on religion, i. 115, 127, 159, 247, ii. 156, 420 ff.;
• on Roman Catholicism, ii. 5;
• on versification, i. 140, 156, 183;
• on female poets, i. 229-233;
• on Greek scholarship, i. 260;
• on mesmerism, i. 255-259;
• on marriage, i. 339, ii. 72, 73, 222 ff.;
• on communism, i. 363;
• on socialism, i. 467;
• protest against publication of juvenile performances, i. 454, 455, ii. 139;
• views on spiritualism, ii. 92, 104, 117, 125, 157 ff. (and see s.v.);
• on women's work and position, ii. 189, 254, 255;
• on poetry and the public, ii. 200;
• on slavery, ii. 220;
• on growing old, ii. 140;
• on death, ii. 177, 289, 291;
• on English self-satisfaction, ii. 351.
• Works:
• 'Aurora Leigh,' ii. 91, 195, 205, 228, 229, 240 ff., 302;
• 'Battle of Marathon,' i. 3, 5;
• 'Bertha in the Lane,' i. 247;
• 'Casa Guidi Windows,' i. 348, ii. 1-3, 5, 7, 12, 13;
• 'Catarina to Camoens,' ii. 200;
• 'Chaucer Modernised,' i. 84, 88;
• 'Child's Death at Florence,' i. 437;
• 'Crowned and Buried,' i. 82, 161, 222;
• 'Cry of the Children,' i. 153, 156;
• 'Cry of the Human,' i. 120, 125;
• 'Curse for a Nation,' ii. 364, 366, 378 ff.;
• 'Dead Pan,' i. 109, 127-131, 136, 177;
• 'De Profundis,' ii. 414;
• 'Drama of Exile,' i. 164, 168, 170, 171, 177, 181, 185, 186;
• 'English Poets,' i. 97, 105-107;
• 'Essay on Mind,' i. 4, 5, 70, 94, 187;
• 'Flush,' i. 153;
• 'Greek Christian Poets,' i. 96-105;
• 'Hector in the Garden,' i. 123;
• 'House of Clouds,' i. 89, 153, 462;
• 'The Island,' i. 49;
• 'Isobel's Child,' i. 73, 200;
• 'Lady Geraldine's Courtship,' i. 177, 181, 199, 201, 204, 211;
• 'Lay of the Brown Rosary,' i. 149, 150, 161;
• 'Lay of the Rose,' i. 82;
• 'Lord Walter's Wife,' ii. 443;
• 'Lost Bower,' i. 124, 195, 200;
• 'A Musical Instrument,' ii. 377, 406;
• 'My Doves,' i. 461;
• 'New Spirit of the Age,' i. 163;
• 'North and the South,' ii. 446;
• 'Poems,' of 1844, i. 164, 165, 180;
• 'Poems,' collected edition, i. 427, 436;
• 'Poems before Congress,' ii. 356, 361, 362, 363 ff., 368, 374, 399;
• 'Poet's Vow,' i. 36-39, 43, 49;
• 'A Portrait,' i. 190;
• 'Prometheus Bound,' i. 16, 18, 21, 135, 188;
• 'Psyché Apocalypté,' i. 84;
• 'Rhyme of the Duchess May,' i. 186, 247;
• 'Romance of the Ganges,' i. 52;
• 'Romaunt of Margret,' i. 36, 49, 64;
• 'Romaunt of the Page,' i. 61, 62;
• 'Runaway Slave,' i. 315, 462;
• 'Seamew,' i. 38, 461;
• 'The Seraphim,' i. 38, 39, 44, 45, 49, 56, 62-73, 110, 185, 188, 193;
• 'Song for the Ragged Schools,' ii. 185;
• 'Sonnets from the Portuguese,' i. 316, 317;
• 'Sounds,' i. 73;
• 'Stanzas on Mrs. Hemans,' i. 33;
• 'Tale of Villafranca,' ii. 333 ff.;
• 'Vision of Poets,' i. 157;
• 'Wine of Cyprus,' i. 178, 183
• Barrett, George, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 29, 32, 33, 35, 37, 78, 151, 166, 242, ii. 19, 263, 264
• Barrett, afterwards Cook, Henrietta, sister of E.B.B., i. 2, 15, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 28, 33, 41, 46, 52, 53, 55, 75, 76, 77, 242, 294, 338, 443 ff., ii. 18, 207, 210, 239, 376, 400;
• illness and death, ii. 401, 405, 414 ff.
• Barrett, Henry, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 27, 55, 189, 242, ii. 18
• Barrett, Octavius, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 8, 15, 20, 173, 271, 275, ii. 18
• Barrett, Septimus ('Sette'), brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 11, 14, 20, ii. 18
• Bate, Miss Gerardine (Mrs. Macpherson), i. 285, 310
• Bayley, Miss, i. 262, 362, ii. 232, 233, 240
• Bellosguardo, ii. 125, 259
• Béranger, ii. 49, 230, 231
• 'Blackwood's Magazine,' i. 181, 210, 213, ii. 253, 255, 387;
• poems by Mrs. Browning in, i. 304, 307, 314
• Blagden, Miss Isa, i. 456, ii. 266, 267;
• letters to, i. 456, 467, ii. 3, 98, 124, 144, 243, 283, 290, 302, 308, 320, 339, 365, 371, 373, 375, 389, 411, 414, 418, 428, 431, 447
• Bowring, Sir John, ii. 410, 412, 440
• Boyd, Hugh Stuart, i. 9, 17, 20;
• death, i. 368;
• letters to, i. 23, 24, 29, 32, 37, 38, 39, 44, 45, 57, 60, 61, 68, 69, 70, 72, 73, 77, 79, 81, 88, 89, 91, 93, 95-107, 109, 114-120, 124, 125, 138-142, 152, 154, 171, 173, 175, 176, 179, 183, 184, 192, 200, 225, 242, 246, 250, 264, 270, 279, 314, 330
• Boyd, Mrs. H.S., letter to, i. 8;
• death, i. 29
• Boyle, Miss, i. 347, 352
• Bracken, Miss A., ii. 267, 271
• Braun, Dr., ii. 195
• Braun, Mdme., see Thomson
• Brizieux, Auguste, ii. 101
• Brontë, Charlotte, her 'Jane Eyre,' i. 360, 384, 432, 435;
• 'Shirley,' i. 429, 430, 442;
• 'Villette,' ii. 139, 142
• Brotherton, Mrs., medium, ii. 157
• Browning, Miss, ii. 121;
• letters to i. 321, 369, 396, 397, 402, 408, 432, 477, ii. 93, 142, 161, 167, 179, 202, 239, 241, 250, 256, 267, 268, 294, 295, 297, 307, 310, 313, 317, 319, 341, 352, 368, 396, 433, 440, 448
• Browning, Mrs., senior, her death, i. 396 ff.
• Browning, R., senior, ii. 162, 314
• Browning, Robert, i. 2, 5, 84, 104, 131, 133, 143, 150, 161, 163, 214, 236, 238, 246, 254, 275, 278 and passim thereafter;
• letters from, i. 334, 356, 379, 417, 423, 470, ii. 263, 267, 295, 302, 450;
• portrait, by Reade, ii. 143;
• by Fisher, ii. 160, 163;
• by Page, ii. 171, 233, 316;
• by Leighton, ii. 310;
• bust by Story, ii. 448;
• early engraving, i. 335;
• American appreciation of his work, ii. 436;
• want of appreciation in England, ii. 370.
• Works:
• 'Bells and Pomegranates,' i. 320;
• 'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon,' i. 391, 393;
• 'Christmas Eve and Easter Day,' i. 427, 432, 446, 449;
• 'Colombe's Birthday,' i. 264, ii. 91, 103, 112, 115, 116, 119;
• 'A Guardian Angel,' i. 380;
• 'In a Balcony,' ii. 121;
• Introduction to Shelley's 'Letters,' ii. 52;
• 'Men and Women,' ii. 205, 209, 218;
• 'Pippa Passes,' i. 264;
• 'Poems,' new edition, 1849, i. 361, 391;
• 'Sordello,' i. 264, ii. 228;
• 'Strafford,' ii. 436
• Browning, Robert Wiedeman Barrett ('Penini'), i. 5, 395, and passim thereafter
• Brunnyng, Robert, i. 371
• Bulwer, Edward Lytton, afterwards first Lord Lytton, i. 16, 17, 36, 212, ii. 103, 145, 207
• Burges, George, i. 102, 168
• Byron, Lord, his poetry, i. 113, 115

• Calvinism, thoughts on, i. 115
• Carlyle, Thomas, i. 99, 136, 194, 199. 315, 338, ii. 16, 25, 27, 210
• Carlyle, Mrs., ii. 78
• Cartwright, W.C., ii. 346
• Casa Guidi, i. 365, 372
• Castellani, ii. 354
• Cavour, ii. 360, 384;
• death, ii. 449
• Chalmers, Dr., i. 53
• Chambers, Dr., i. 57, 61, 68, 69, 71, 72, 269
• Chasles, M. Philaret, ii. 43
• Chaucer, Geoffrey, i. 128
• Chorley, H.F., i. 71, 180, 187, 207, 307, 311, 320, 453-455, ii. 137, 173, 183;
• his 'Pomfret,' i. 271;
• 'Roccabella,' ii. 350;
• letters to, i. 191, 229, 230, 234, 255, 257, 271, 375, 393, 420, 432, 446, ii. 79, 127, 334, 350, 378, 380
• Clive, Mrs. Archer, ii. 154
• Clough, A.H., i. 426, 429
• Cobbe, Miss, ii. 377, 398
• Cobden, R., i. 223, 327, ii. 356, 387
• Cocks, Lady Margaret, i. 43
• Coleridge, S.T., i. 110, 141
• Coleridge, Mrs., i. 145
• Commeline, Miss, letters to, i. 7, 26, 53, 240
• Como, ii. 9
• Cook, Surtees, i. 338, 443
• Cook, Mrs. Surtees, see Barrett, Henrietta
• 'Cornhill Magazine,' ii. 377, 423, 443 ff.
• Corn Law League, i. 220, 223, 239, 240
• Correggio, ii. 9
• Crimea, war in the, ii. 179, 181, 183, 186, 189, 203
• Crosse, Andrew, i. 72
• Crystal Palace, the, ii. 24
• Cumming, Dr., ii. 194
• Cushman, Miss, i. 320, ii. 90, 128
• Cyprus, wine of, i, 175, 179, 248, 250, 315

• Dacre, Lady, i. 51, 68, 72
• 'Daily News,' the, i. 275
• Dall' Ongaro, ii. 374, 375, 430, 447
• Da Vinci, Leonardo, ii. 9
• Dawson, Mr., ii. 429
• De Quincey, i. 161
• Dickens, Charles, i. 121, 123, 275, ii. 32, 229, 395
• Dilke, C.W., editor of the 'Athenæum,' i. 97, 107, 117, 134, 228, 446
• Disraeli, Benjamin, his 'Coningsby,' i. 203, 205
• Dryden, John, i. 107, 110
• 'Dublin Review,' the, i. 242
• Dumas, Alexandre, i. 2, 319, 357, 419, 425, 462, ii. 40, 64, 86, 99, 182;
• his 'Monte Cristo,' ii. 301, 304
• Dumas, A., fils, 'La Dame aux Camélias,' ii. 66, 106

• Eagles, Mr., i. 201, 211
• Eastlake, Lady, ii. 27
• Eckley, Mrs., ii. 150, 296, 298
• Elgin, Lady, ii. 24, 26, 221, 286, 290, 368
• Eliot, George, ii. 338, 388, 400
• England, politics in, ii. 278, 316
• 'Essays and Reviews,' ii. 427
• Eugénie, Empress, ii. 101
• 'Examiner,' the, i. 64, 70, 180, 199, 204
• Exhibition of 1851, the, i. 466

• Fano, i. 380
• Fanshawe, Miss, i. 464
• Faraday, Professor, on spiritualism, ii. 122 ff., 128, 247
• Faucit, Helen (Lady Martin), ii. 103, 119
• Fauveau, Mdlle. de, i. 360, 378
• Ferdinando IV., Duke of Tuscany, ii. 340
• Ferucci, Professor, i. 303
• 'Finden's Tableaux,' i. 52, 61
• Fisher, A., artist, ii. 160, 163
• Flaubert, G., 'Madame Bovary,' ii. 151, 304
• Florence, i. 326, 331, 343, ii. 96;
• the Tuscan National Guard, i. 344, 346;
• revolutions, i. 400 ff., 405
• Flush, Miss Barrett's dog, i. 100, 105, 107, 149, 154, 155, 207, 224, 298, 307, 324, 342, 346, 357, 382
• Forster, John, i. 180, 204, 329, ii. 16, 186, 286;
• letter to, ii. 383
• Fox, Miss, ii. 151
• France, the Coup d'état, ii. 32 ff.;
• politics in, i. 363, 368, 374, 383, 386, 389, 400, ii. 42, 48, 61, 70, 230;
• war with Austria, 305 ff.
• Fuller, Margaret (Mme. Ossoli), i. 428, 445;
• death, i. 459 ff.;
• her character, ii. 59

• Gaeta, siege of, ii. 413, 418
• Garibaldi, Giuseppe, ii. 318, 338, 398, 402, 416, 441
• Gaskell, Mrs., ii. 259;
• her 'Mary Barton,' i. 471, 472;
• 'Ruth,' ii. 139, 141
• Genoa, ii. 94, 95
• Ghirlandaio, i. 448
• Gibson, J., artist, ii. 148
• Girardin, Emile de, ii. 30, 38
• Goethe, i. 474
• Graham-Clarke (afterwards Barrett), Mary,
• mother of E.B.B., i. 2, 6, 7
• Gregory Nazianzen, i. 45, 92, 94, 97, 98, 100, 104, 146;
• his 'De Virginitate,' i. 78, 92
• Gresonowsky, Dr., ii. 321, 326, 341, 355
• 'Guardian,' the, ii. 13
• Guercino, i. 380, 441

• Hanford, Mrs., i. 33, 87
• Harding, Dr., i. 401, 458, 462, ii. 183
• Havre, ii. 287 ff.
• Haworth, Miss E.F., i. 322, ii. 21, 242;
• letters to, ii. 21, 118, 135, 149, 222, 234, 266, 272, 273, 281, 285, 322, 348, 354, 386, 393, 405, 408, 420, 424, 450
• Hawthorne, Nathaniel, ii. 132, 304, 307, 310
• Haydon, B.R., i. 146;
• his portrait of Wordsworth, i. 112;
• suicide, i. 278, 279;
• biography, ii. 161
• Hazard, Mr., ii. 355
• Heaton, Miss, ii. 150, 151
• Hedley, Mr., i. 359
• Hemans, Mrs., i. 232, 234
• Hesiod, translations from, i. 262
• Hillard, Mr., i. 378
• Homer, i. 118, 125
• Hook, Theodore, i. 44, 161, 253
• Hope End, home of Mrs. Browning, i. 3
• Horne, R. II., i. 3, 5, 36, 74, 78, 80, 81, 84, 85, 104, 133, 153, 174, 182, 199, 214, 308, 339, 345, 353, 368, 431, 452, ii. 31;
• his 'Orion,' i. 145, 148, 150;
• 'The New Spirit of the Age,' i. 163
• Hosmer, Miss, ii. 166, 168, 344, 388, 392
• Howe, Mrs., ii. 166, 170
• Howitt, Mary, i. 320
• Howitt, William, i. 216, ii. 403, 406
• Hugo, Victor, i. 123, ii. 90, 230, 260-262
• Hume (al. Home), spiritualistic medium, ii. 196, 201, 226, 266, 280
• Hunt, Leigh, i. 84, 216, 452, ii. 253

• Italian Literature, i. 309, 312
• Italy, politics in, i. 348, 357, 359, 373, 383, 386, 388, 400, 409, 416, 439, ii. 96, 114, 311, 326 ff., 340, 346, 361, 367, 372, 382, 389, 402, 413

• Jameson, Mrs., i. 104, 194, 199, 216, 217, 226, 238, 239, 284, 285, 296, 298, 299, 301, 307, 326, 327, ii. 16, 196;
• her 'Legends of the Monastic Orders,' i. 440;
• death, ii. 365;
• letters to, i. 227, 273, 328, 354, 376, 414, 421, 440, 448, ii. 32, 57, 65, 80, 107, 109, 146, 187, 208, 220, 227, 228, 232, 236, 245, 251, 258, 269, 270, 345, 360, 364
• Jerrold, Douglas, i. 203, 239
• Jewsbury, Miss, i. 465, ii. 27
• John Mauropus, i. 103
• John of Damascus, i. 97
• John of Euchaita, i. 104

• Keats, John, i. 188
• Kemble, Fanny (Mrs. Butler), i. 466, ii. 16, 154, 158, 159, 167, 196
• Kenyon, John, i. 2, 32, 51, 58, 67, 68, 102, 104, 112, 121, 153, 166, 172, 173, 202, 203, 205, 233, 265, 288, 290, 295, 297, 308, 310, 311, 353, 375, 420, 426, ii. 16, 77, 87, 197, 223, 224, 232, 233, 235, 238, 239;
• death, ii. 241, 245;
• legacy to Mr. and Mrs. Browning, ii. 241, 246, 248;
• letters to, i. 58, 59, 108, 127, 129, 136, 143, 145, 167-169, 187, 203, 207, 209, 211, 223, 239, 245, 248, 249, 361, ii. 7, 52, 89, 95, 115
• Kinglake, A.W., ii. 186, 210, 429;
• his 'E[=o]then,' i. 216
• Kingsley, Charles, ii. 83, 85, 86, 134
• Kinney, Mr. W.B., ii. 126
• Kinney, Mrs. W.B., letter to, ii. 244
• Kirkup, Mr., i. 440, 448, ii. 253, 395
• Knowles, Sheridan, i. 43, 47, 48
• Kossuth, ii. 115

• Lamartine, i. 375, 425, ii. 30, 57, 64, 71, 133
• Lamoricière, General, ii. 368, 372, 377, 393
• Landon, L.E., i. 232
• Landor, Walter Savage, i. 43, 47, 55, 117, 137, ii. 78, 186, 286, 323, 324, 336, 343, 349, 353, 395, 397, 403;
• verses to Robert Browning, i. 275
• Langland, W. (Piers Plowman), i. 105
• Leighton, Frederic, ii. 197, 210, 233, 452
• Lever, Charles, i. 413, 417, 465, 473
• Lockhart, J.G., ii. 154, 159, 163
• London, residence of the Barretts in, i. 31-56 (74 Gloucester Place), 56-74, 91-279 (50 Wimpole Street)
• Longfellow, H.W., i. 454
• Louis Philippe, King of the French, i. 203, 206
• Lowell, J.R., i. 251
• Lucca, Bagni di, ii. 121 ff., 267 ff., 411 ff.
• Lucerne, ii. 10
• Luther, ii. 426
• Lynch, Miss, ii. 144
• Lytton, Sir Edward, see Bulwer
• Lytton, Robert, ii. 97, 99, 103, 113, 125, 126, 142, 145;
• illness, ii. 267 ff.

• Macauley, T.B., i. 209, 408
• Maclise, D., i. 119
• Macpherson, James, and Ossian, i. 118, 126
• Macready, W., ii. 229, 393
• MacSwiney, Mr., i. 9, 73
• Mahony, F., see Prout
• Manning, Dr. (afterwards Cardinal), ii. 410
• Mario, Jessie (née White), ii. 277, 321, 338, 347, 442
• Marlowe, Christopher, i. 107
• Marsh, Mr., American Minister at Constantinople, ii. 102, 105
• Martin, James, letters to, i. 122, 219. (See also Martin, Mrs., letters to)
• Martin, Mrs. James, letters to, i. 6, 10, 13, 16, 18, 21, 27, 33, 41, 46, 50, 75, 85, 86, 110, 120, 137, 143, 147, 165, 189, 193, 196, 202, 205, 215, 216, 221, 236, 237, 251, 266, 267, 274, 276, 277, 286, 300, 325, 335, 371, 387, 404, 437, 475, ii. 13, 17, 19, 34, 41, 74, 83, 113, 140, 180, 184, 192, 211, 212, 225, 236, 248, 254, 263, 264, 277, 324, 357, 400, 415, 438
• Martineau, Harriet, i. 59, 151, 161, 169, 194, 196, 199, 200, 202, 205, 212, 217, 219, 220, 225, 227, 256, 276, 352, 355, 387, ii. 403
• Mathew, Mrs., i. 25
• Mathews, Cornelius, letters to, i. 132, 198, 213
• Maurice, F.D., ii. 177
• Maynooth, the grant question, i. 252
• Mazzini, G., ii. 78, 109, 115, 277, 279
• Mesmerism, i. 196, 200, 202, 205, 212, 217, 219, 220, 236, 238, 255-259
• 'Metropolitan Magazine,' the, i. 243, 245, 248
• Milan, ii. 9
• Mill, John Stuart, i. 467
• Milnes, Monckton, i. 217, 308, ii. 79, 84, 134, 230, 376
• Milsand, M. Joseph, ii. 29, 43, 108, 173, 242, 250, 275, 284, 314, 399, 449
• Mitford, Miss M.R., i. 32, 43, 46, 47, 50, 51, 52, 55, 66, 78, 83, 104, 108, 111, 131, 137, 153, 154, 161, 167, 205, 220, ii. 12;
• death, ii. 191;
• character and genius, ii. 216, 217;
• her 'Otto,' i. 47, 48;
• 'Recollections,' i. 453, 464, ii. 43, 45 ff., 58, 60;
• 'Atherton,' ii. 165, 171, 173, 175;
• dramas, ii. 175;
• letters to, i. 67, 297, 304, 311, 318, 339, 345, 349, 356, 358, 365, 373, 379, 384, 399, 410, 423, 427, 430, 434, 443, 450, 453, 458, 463, 470, ii. 5, 25, 28, 38, 45, 49, 62, 69, 76, 77, 84, 87, 100, 105, 122, 132, 152, 159, 164, 169, 171, 174, 176
• Mohl, Mme., ii. 24, 42, 66, 221
• Montgomery, Robert, i. 265
• Moore, Thomas, ii. 102, 141
• Mulock, Miss, letters to, ii. 44, 67, 72; ii. 79
• Murray, Miss, i. 253
• Musset, Alfred de, ii. 64, 100

• Napoleon, Louis (Napoleon III.), i. 375, 386, 389, 400, 406, 419, 428, 429, ii. 22, 30, 33 ff., 51, 54, 90, 110, 114, 181, 219, 230, 276, 306, 307, 309, 317, 323, 326, 327, 331, 335, 339, 373, 383 ff., 393, 413, 429, 433, 440;
• letter to, ii. 261
• Napoleon, Prince, ii. 437
• Napoleon Buonaparte (Napoleon I.), i. 82
• Newman, J.H., i. 210
• 'New Monthly Magazine,' i. 36, 37, 40, 44, 49
• 'New Quarterly,' the, i. 229
• Nightingale, Florence, ii. 188
• Nonnus, translations from, i. 261
• 'North American Review,' i. 109
• Novara, battle of, i. 409

• O'Connell, Daniel, i. 50, 195
• Ogilvy, Mr. and Mrs., i. 440, 445, ii. 4
• Orsay, Count d', i. 222
• Orsini, his attempt on Napoleon III., ii. 276 ff.
• Ossian, i. 117-120, 125, 126
• Ossoli, Mme., see Fuller

• Padua, ii. 9
• Page, W., artist, ii. 128, 148, 155, 171, 307, 315, 388
• Pantaleonie, Diomed, ii. 389, 432
• Paris, i. 299, ii. 11, 23, 65, 281, 284, 285
• Parker, Theodore, ii. 355, 388
• Patmore, Coventry, ii. 112, 134, 138, 184, 255
• Paulus Silentiarius, i. 103, 104
• Petrarch, ii. 9
• Phelps, S., i. 391, 393
• Phillpotts, Henry, Bishop of Exeter, i. 50, 74
• Pisa, i. 302, 330
• Pisida, George, i. 103
• Pius IX., Pope, i. 344, 391, 392, 420
• Plato, i. 101, 119, 170
• Poe, E.A., i. 249
• Pope, Alexander, i. 107
• Powers, Hiram, sculptor, i. 334, 347, 378, ii. 97, 120, 131
• Procter, Mr. (Barry Cornwall), ii. 16
• Prout, Father, i. 355, 385, 392, ii. 286
• 'Punch,' i. 203

• 'Quarterly Review,' i. 65
• Quinet, Edgar, ii. 101

• Ravenna, i. 381
• Reade, Charles, ii. 271, 357
• Reynolds, Mrs., i. 351
• Ristori, Mme., ii. 228
• Rogers, Samuel, i. 190, 221, 222, ii. 16
• Romagnoli, Ferdinando, ii. 208, 251
• Rome, ii. 154, 165, 352 ff.
• Rossi, Count Pellegrino, i. 392
• Rousseau, J.J., ii. 293
• Ruskin, John, i. 384, 386, ii. 87, 169, 170, 210, 253, 268, 414;
• letters to, ii. 190, 198, 214, 216, 299, 302, 315
• Russell, Lord John, ii. 109
• Russell, Odo, ii. 309, 332, 339, 359, 376

• Ste.-Beuve, C.A., ii. 101
• Salvini, ii. 319
• Sand, George, i. 233, 357, 363, 425, 428, ii. 26, 29, 39, 50, 51, 55-57, 59, 60, 63, 66, 70, 76, 222, 230
• Sardinia, war with Austria, i. 374, 409
• Sartoris, Mrs. (Adelaide Kemble), ii. 154, 159, 167, 179, 182
• 'Saturday Review,' ii. 365, 375, 387, 403
• Sayers, Tom, ii. 365, 387, 400
• Scott, Sir Walter, i. 126
• Scully, Dr., i. 76, 86, 87, 90, 111
• Seward, Anna, i. 231
• Sewell, Miss, ii. 429, 430
• Sidmouth, residence of the Barretts at, i. 10-30
• Siena, i. 456 ff., ii. 319 ff., 342
• Sigourney, Mrs., i. 251
• Slavery, abolition of, in West Indies, i. 21, 23
• Smith, Alexander, ii. 112, 120, 134, 138, 161
• Soulié, Frédéric, i. 387, 466;
• his 'Saturnin Fichet,' i. 318
• Southey, Mrs., i. 138
• Southey, Robert, i. 170
• Spiritualism, ii. 92, 99, 102, 117, 120, 121, 122, 125, 133, 137, 149, 157, 158, 193, 247, 356, 395, 421 ff.
• Stanhope, Lord, ii. 79
• Story, Mr. and Mrs. W.W., ii. 130, 132, 143, 294, 334, 411, 446;
• death of their child, ii. 147, 152
• Stowe, Mrs. Beecher, ii. 107, 110, 183, 258, 408, 409, 421, 424
• Stuart, Mr., i. 416, 422, 441, 448
• Sue, Eugène, ii. 31, 40, 41
• Sumner, Charles, ii. 286
• Swedenborg, ii. 21, 145, 156, 424
• Synesius, i. 96, 100, 104

• Talfourd, Serjeant, i. 133, 197, 393, ii. 31;
• his 'Ion,' i. 43, 47, 48
• Tennyson, Alfred, i. 84, 150, 157, 160, 161, 215, 264, 324, 339, 345, 434, 456, ii. 15, 84, 86, 88, 205, 213, 419;
• his 'Poems,' of 1842, i. 108, 109;
• 'Locksley Hall,' i. 204;
• 'The Princess,' i. 361, 367, 429, 431;
• 'In Memoriam,' i. 453, 465, 471, 472;
• 'Maud,' ii. 209, 213
• Tennyson, Frederick, ii. 99, 112, 113, 123, 125, 126
• Terni, ii. 152, 295, 296
• Teynham, Lord, i. 243
• Thackeray, W.M., ii. 148, 154, 253, 377, 391, 408;
• his 'Vanity Fair,' i. 401;
• letters from, ii. 444, 446;
• letter to, ii. 445
• Thierry, M., ii. 75
• Thiers, M., ii. 33
• Thomson, Miss (Mme. Braun) i. 58, 431;
• letters to, i. 260, 261, ii. 195, 288
• 'Times,' the, ii. 279, 317, 319, 329
• Tommaséo, N., inscription in honour of Mrs. Browning, ii. 452
• Torquay, Miss Barrett's residence at, i. 74-90
• Trollope, Anthony, ii. 377, 391
• Trollope, Mrs., i. 17, 476, ii. 173, 177, 226
• Tyndal, Mrs. Acton, i. 351

• Vallombrosa, i. 332 ff.
• Vaucluse, i. 285, 323
• Venice, ii. 6, 8
• Ventnor, ii. 236, 239
• Viardot, Mme., ii. 75, 76
• Victoria, Queen, i. 222, 253
• Villafranca, conference of, ii. 319, 320, 323, 324, 330

• Wales, H.R.H. the Prince of, ii. 309, 312
• Ware, Mr., i. 378
• Webbe, General W., i. 451
• Wellington, Duke of, ii. 163
• 'Westminster Review,' the, i. 194, 199, 215
• Westwood, Thomas, i. 94, 473;
• letters to, i. 94, 114, 149, 150, 157. 159, 160, 162, 174, 175, 185, 190, 224, 244, 253, 264, 323, 342, 468, ii. 138, 155
• Wetherell, Elizabeth, her 'Queechy,' ii. 134
• Wilde, Mr., ii. 344
• Wilson, Mrs. Browning's maid, i. 283, 319, &c.
• Wiseman, Mrs., i. 380
• Wordsworth, William, i. 43, 47, 55, 60, 84, 160, 161, 252, 253, 267;
• death, i. 449;
• letter from, i. 113;
• his poetry, i. 110, 113, 119, 138, 141, 201;
• his portrait by Haydon, i. 112, 113;
• Miss Barrett's sonnet on it, i. 113