o the complimentary farewell
dinner our Lord Mayor gave to Mr. Phelps which nobody could be excused
from attending. We all grieved at the loss, especially of Mrs. Phelps,
who endeared herself to everybody. Both of them were sorry to go from
us....

The next letter reveals anew Browning's always thoughtful courtesy in
bespeaking kindness for mutual friends, as he writes:

"There is arranged to be a sort of expedition [to Venice] of young
Toynbee Hall men, headed by Alberto Ball, the son of our common
friend, for the purpose of studying, not merely amusing, themselves
with,--the beloved city. Well as the Balls are entitled to say that
they know you, still, the young and clever Ball chooses to wish me to
beg your kind notice; and I suppose that his companions are to be
noticed also,--of what really appears to be a praiseworthy effort
after self-instruction. Will you smile on him when he calls on you?
for his father's sake, who is anxious about the scheme's success? I
have bespoken Pen's assistance, and he will do the honors of the
Rezzonico with alacrity, I have no doubt."

[Illustration: MISS EDITH BRONSON,

(NOW CONTESSA RUCELLAI)

From a Water-Color by Passini, Venice, 1883.]

In almost every life that is strongly individualized those who look back
after it has passed from visible sight cannot but recognize how rhythmic
are the sequences that have characterized its last months on earth. If the
person in question had actually known the day on which he should be called
away, he would hardly have done other than he did. It is as if the spirit
had some prescience, not realized by the ordinary consciousness, but still
controlling its conduct of the last time allotted here. With this last
year of Robert Browning's life, this unseen leading is especially obvious.
In the spring he had revised his poetic work; he had passed Commemoration
week at Oxford, as he loved to do; he had passed much of the time with his
friend, the Master of Balliol, and among his last expressions on leaving
Oxford was "Jowett knows how I love him." He was also in Cambridge, and
Edmund Gosse has charmingly recalled the way in which he dwelt,
retrospectively, on his old Italian days.

In June, also, he paid his usual visit to Lord Albemarle (the last
survivor of those who fought at Waterloo), and in that month he wrote to
Professor Knight, who was about to exchange the Chair of Philo