, precisamente come la medicina--_nux_ (tale quale).' She (Lady
Juliana) had just been presented to the Pope, just before his illness,
and was much touched, when at the close of the reception of
indiscriminately Catholics and Protestants, he prayed a simple prayer in
French and gave them all his benediction, ending in a sad humble voice,
'_Priez pour le pape._'

It _was_ touching--was it not? Poor old man! When you feel the human
flesh through the ecclesiastical robe, you get into sympathy with him at
once.

Miss Sewell will come and see me again, she promised, and then I shall
talk with her more. I couldn't get at her through the people yesterday.
She is very nice, gentle-looking, cheerful, respectable sort
of--single-womanish person (decidedly single) of the olden type; very
small, slim, quiet, with the nearest approach to a poky bonnet possible
in this sinful generation. I, in my confusion, did not glance at her
petticoats, but, judging _a priori_, I should predicate a natural
incompatibility with crinoline. But really I liked her, liked her. There
were gentleness, humility, and conscience--three great gifts. Of course
we can touch only on remote points; but I hope (for my own sake) we may
touch on these, and another day I mean to try. She said one thing which
I liked. Speaking of convents, she 'considered that women must
deteriorate by any separation from men.' Now that's not only true, but
it is not on the surface of things as seen from her standpoint.

I had a visit a day ago from M. Carl Gruen, 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.

I have tried my hand at turning into literal Italian prose (only marking
the lines) a lyric on Rome sent lately to America; and I may show it to
you one of these days.

Now I must send off this. In tender love.

Your BA.

* * * * *

_To Miss I. Blagden_

[Rome,] 126 Via Felice: March 20, [1861].

... Let me answer your questions concerning _Non Pio V.E._ Se non vero,
ben trovato. Very happy, and I hope true. Probably enough it ma