was taken at Milan and shot. A noble man, though incompetent, I think,
to his own aspiration; but a man who personally has my sympathies
always. The state of things here is cruel, the people are one groan. God
deliver us all, I must pray, and by almost any means.

As to your Ministry, I don't expect very much from it. Lord Aberdeen,
'put on' to Lord John, is using the drag uphill. They will do just as
little as they can, be certain.

Think of my submitting at last to the conjugal will and cod's liver
oil--yes, and think of its doing me good. The cough was nearly, if not
quite, gone because of the climate, before I took the oil, but it does
me good by making me gain in flesh. I am much less thin, and very well,
and dearest Robert triumphant.

* * * * *


_To Mrs. Jameson_

Florence: April 12, [1853].

The comfort is, my ever loved friend, that here is spring--summer, as
translated into Italy--if fine weather is to set you up again. I shall
be very thankful to have better news of you; to hear of your being out
of that room and loosened into some happy condition of liberty. It seems
unnatural to think of you in one room. _That_ seems fitter for _me_,
doesn't it? And the rooms in England are so low and small, that they
put double bars on one's captivity. May God bring you out with the
chestnut trees and elms! It's very sad meanwhile.