3286. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 19, 333–342.
Florence.
Saturday. Sunday, Monday– [12–14] Nov. [1853] [1]
My ever beloved Arabel, at last I have a letter from you. One in two months! And you pretend to justify yourself! For my own part, though you hear from me three times as often, I confess myself guilty of a certain laxity of correspondence lately, which arises however a good deal from your previous guiltiness. You dont keep up the ball—& so it falls .. and I get too lazy to stoop & pick it up. Then I have had a shadow turning about me concerning you .. whether your silence meant perhaps that you were unwell! The longed for letter relieved me partly of this apprehension—though you are not after all well—no,—that horrible inconvenience remains with you still. Take care of yourself my beloved, this winter. To do so is the matter of the clearest & simplest duty. Oh– how excellent it would be for you (and me) to come out to Rome this winter—to come through Marseilles to Civita Vecchia by sea & spend the cold months with us? George, dearest George, I appeal to you– Is it impossible to manage it? Could’nt Occy, on grounds of architecture, come out to Italy for a few months & bring Arabel with him– Lizzy being about to be in Ireland, there’s no obstacle in Lizzy. [2] The expence is slight– Less than eight pounds cover the expence to Marseilles, and in Rome we are there! A warm climate is a specific for certain affections, & a winter in the south would set all to rights. Could you not say, George, that Arabel had been pressed to go to Rome—without naming me—Papa wd understand .. and a permission of the sort would be a mezzo termine [3] between forgiveness & non-forgiveness .. a sign of toleration & goodwill which might be given after seven years– Do you not think it possible? Now dont shake your heads all of you—consider, rather—& try! We are going to Rome in a week.
Meanwhile we have been keeping open house here (at tea time) with droves of Americans & a few English passing in & out– It is expensive work, the consumption of coffee & cake being enormous,—fatiguing work too .. & I want some quiet evenings again. Think of our having in this room the other evening, the Cottrells, the Kinneys (American minister) Mr & Mrs Story, Mr & Mrs Shaw (American millionaires) [4] Miss Courtenay (a friend of Mr Kenyon’s) [5] Mr Lytton & Dr Pryme, a clergyman from New York. [6] Another evening, with most of the above, we had besides General Lodwick & Capt Eastwick [7] —an East Indian director, who came to us with introductions from England. It[’]s quite out of our way to be crowded upon so—out of mine, especially. And in the midst of all my poor dear Wilson lost her mother [8] as you may have heard, which quite saddened me for days together. Happily the terrible letter fell into our hands, & seeing at a glance what it meant, I was able to try to break it to her a little—but she was much shaken of course—such things always fall like thunderbolts, & no amount of human care will break the fall of a thunderbolt. Now she is better of course, & has begun to smile again & talk rather more cheerfully. The spirits do not go far from us, Arabel—and at the present time the apparent adamantine wall of partition has breaches in it.
Of that I am more & more sure. I have heard some strange things since I wrote last– I have even witnessed. Dearest, you said once that you would believe my personal experiences. Dearest, as surely as I write to you now, there have been communicating spirits in this room where I write—that at least is my conviction. Let me hasten however to tell you that no communication came to me– Our experiments were imperfect from various causes, & other spirits pressed in before mine came—or perhaps mine are in the interior Heavens, from whence there have been few communications hitherto. Let me tell you what passed. Mrs Shaw who has just come from Rome is a medium– One of the most interesting women, by the way, I ever saw .. a simple, sweet creature, spiritual in a good sense, looking at these matters reverently & religiously. She told me all her experiences, shewed me copies of the mystical papers produced at Rome … & after that first interview, we kissed one another, for my sympathies were drawn much to her, & you know, Arabel, I have a decided genius for kissing. Well, it was agreed that we should have a circle here one evening– She did not much like it, .. having a strong feeling against submitting these things to the curiosity & irreverence of sceptical people,—but to please me she yielded. There were Mr & Mrs Tweedy, [9] Americans, (believers in the phenomena) Mr & Mrs Shaw, Mr & Mrs Story, Mr Lytton, Mr Powers, & a Miss Silsbee, [10] a young girl of thirteen, whom Mrs Shaw brought with her on account of the power she had over the tables, & ourselves. Some of us assembled round a small four legged table (with a drawer in it) and after about a quarter of an hour, it moved. I never shall forget the heave it gave under my hand, like a living creature waking from a sleep. Then it turned upon itself, .. & swept us round & round till we were giddy. The motion being over we resumed our seats which had been scattered on all sides in the confusion, & Mrs Shaw asked in a dead silence, .. “If any of our friends are here will they signify it by tilting the table?” Instantly the table tilted from one side to the other. “Will the spirits give a communication tonight?” Tilting of the table– “To which of us will the spirits give a communication tonight. Ask, each of you.” We all asked one by one– My voice trembled when it came to my turn, as you may suppose.– But the table remained still at each question– “Will the spirits indicate by the alphabet the name of the person to whom they will communicate?” Strong tilting of the table. (You are to understand that only a few of us were sitting at the table & that Robert with the rest stood without.) Well—Mrs Shaw said the alphabet slowly—and at the letter R. the table tilted—at the letter O, the table tilted .. till Robert’s name was spelled– He observed that there were two Roberts in the room—& the spelling was therefore continued until Browning was spelled out. I was very much moved– As cold as stone my hands & feet were, but I felt no fear .. only gladness & conviction. You will wonder perhaps that believing as I did, there was not more painful excitement– I was rather moved than excited. Certainly I expected that his mother’s spirit wd be announced. Instead of her, came Eliza Flower, to whom Robert was once warmly attached .. you remember her relations with Mr Fox. Nobody in the room knew anything of her of course, & Robert himself was not at the table– Upon this however, it was asked whether he should come to the table. Table tilts in assent– (You are to understand that the tilting of the table means ‘yes’ always—& its remaining immoveable, ‘no’.) He sits at the table & asks if Eliza Flower will give him proof of her identity by telling him the second name of her sister Sarah. ‘Yes’– ‘Will she do it by tilting the table according to the alphabet.[’] ‘No’. Will she do it by the writing. ‘Yes.’ Will she use Mrs Shore’s [sic, for Shaw’s] mediumship for the writing? ‘Yes.’ Mrs Shore [sic, for Shaw] takes paper & pencil—her hand is convulsively moved—she writes a word—& another, evidently the same word, below it. Nobody can read what is written. Robert says it is wrong—upbraids the spirit as being untrue, & not giving the promised proof of identity. Confusion among the embodied. At first, observe, everybody had been awed in spite of themselves, but the impression wearing off there was a good deal of what I considered unseemly criticism– Mrs Shaw asked if the spirits wd meet us again– ‘Yes’. On Monday? ‘No’. On Tuesday? ‘no’. On wednesday? ‘Yes.’ Her husband took her away, & with her went Miss Silsbee, the other medium, & Mr & Mrs Tweedy. When they were gone Robert & Mr Story began examining the table & considering that it was “a great deal too easily moved”–
I proposed sitting down at the table we four, Mr & Mrs Story, Robert & I, to try whether we could get questions answered by ourselves,—taking care to touch with the fingers as lightly as was possible. We gave one another “words of honour” to be on our guard, & preserve the conditions sedulously– Then somebody asked if a communication would be given to any of us– Table tilted violently .. never tilted so violently before. “Is the communication to me?” each asked. ‘No’—till Robert spoke—then, a violent tilting as before. ‘Dear Eliza Flower’ said Robert, ‘give me proof of your identity. Will you give it?” “Yes.’[’] By the tilting?– ‘No.’ By the writing? Yes. “May Mr Story write?” No. “May my wife write?” ‘Yes.’ I took paper & pencil, but no effect ensued. Then I asked .. “Will you give any other communication to Robert?’[’] “Yes.” “By the alphabet?” Yes. The alphabet was called—and the phrase “Be earn” .. was spelt out .. (Mr Lytton writing down the letters at some distance from the table to prevent any misapprehension ..) on which it was exclaimed that of course ‘Be earnest’ must be intended. “Do you mean Be earnest” we asked of the spirit– Violent tilting of the table– Hereupon we ended the séance, the Storys & Mr Lytton all declaring that it was [a] most inappropriate exhortation to Robert. I differed from them all. I thought it appropriate to him in reference to the subject & occasion. Strange to say, when Robert looked at the mystical paper the next day he became all but convinced that the word he had asked for (that second name) was written really though imperfectly. I myself have no doubt of it. The medium was not equal to the demand made– We are to understand that no miracle properly so called, is performed in these communications—it is but law under a new development. There is as much difficulty on the other side of the veil as on this .. difficulty arising from our obtuseness of instrumentality.– On the wednesday we had another séance, with results on the whole perhaps less satisfactory– The table was much longer before it moved. It expressed itself then not by tilting but by pointing,—it ran with one corner & then drew itself back .. like a dog pointing .. accompanied with quivering & pulsation which were very curious. On that occasion, Mr Lytton received a communication .. the name spelled was Emily L .. when he stopped the operation by asking if the word was Lytton—‘Yes’. His sister’s name. Shall I have a communication? ‘Yes’. By the alphabet & the table? ‘Yes’. The first letter given was F___ on which he asked if Mrs Shaw might receive the rest of the communication for him– (I suppose he felt nervous) ‘Yes.’ But on Mrs Shaw’s taking up the alphabet, the next letter to F was given L .. & so Flower was spelled again—as if one spirit pressed in before another.– Much more was done, but all ended in a conflict & confusion of the Embodied, .. Mr Story taking down questions & answers like a reporter, Robert reproaching false spirits, & I inveighing against every person present who instead of trying these experiments with humility & reverence, played at sharp-shooting with the invisible world– So there our séânces ended. The impression on me was decisive. My previous belief was deepened into conviction– Robert would say [11] only that it was very curious—he could’nt account for it .. did’nt pretend .. was sure there was no false play on the part of anyone .. but .. but! Oh, how difficult to believe against preconceived opinions! I should have told you that on the name ‘Flower’ being spelled, Robert recurred to his test, and that the invisible intelligence acquiesced in his proposal to write the “second name” by Mrs Shaw .. that Mrs Shaw wrote accordingly, & that while she was writing (in a rapid sort of convulsion) Robert as well as myself was convinced by the movement of the hand, that the right name was written. The paper however being examined[,] the writing was extremely indistinct .. might stand for anything .. only a word of the same character was evidently repeated there. I am convinced that the effort towards writing the word was made,—but the medium was more imperfect than usual & failed in her part– Also, on somebody soliciting ‘raps’, we had raps– There was a sound like a cricket chirping, from the table– “Will the spirits give three raps more?” Three came. “Now, four more.” Four came. Then Mr Story began to insist that it was only the creaking of the table– (Quite a different thing, I say!) Great confusion. Mrs Shaw asked if the raps should be repeated in the case of our all taking off our hands? “Yes.” We took off our hands, & no rap ensued—which was inveighed against by some of the critics as a contradiction & a lie—and so we broke up. Mrs Shaw advised me to make no more experiments under such circumstances– She had begun, on entering the room, to predict that she would prove but a weak medium that night, as she had been in a frivolous & worldly state of mind all day .. (Emelyn Story could’nt understand what was meant by a ‘worldly state of mind,’ but you will) & nobody else was humble, patient, & reverent.– We were all ajar, somehow. If we had been otherwise minded & in a state of unity with ourselves, there is no saying what results we might have arrived at. As it was, everybody (after the first shock of awe & astonishment) was objecting to everybody, and aspiring in different directions– One person wanted ‘raps,’ & another declined the raps, & wd be satisfied only with table-tilting– Mr Lytton tells me that ever since that evening he has yearned after the communication which he lost perhaps by asking Mrs Shaw to take up the thread of it.–
Dearest darling Arabel we go to Rome on tuesday morning, & shall be seven days on the road, passing through Perugia, seeing Terni [12] & everything worth seeing. We go by vetturino, & are to pay for our whole household, for travelling, feeding, fires & beds at the best inns, the sum of twenty napoleons, sixteen pounds. Remember there are four of us besides Penini—we take Ferdinando—and we live for seven days. I expect to enjoy the journey much. The Storys pressed us very much to go with them, so that we should travel in their carriage & put the children & servants into the vettura—but they were forced to go ten days ago, and Wilson & I could’nt get ready. Also, to tell you the truth, I like liberty in a long journey, & the priveledge of silence when one is tired. We have not let our house here, and the apartments in Rome are exorbitantly dear .. dearer than in Paris. It really is rash to rush on such expenses with a nearly empty purse, but we cant go north without Rome & so we must have Rome. Penini is enchanted at the thoughts of the new journey. Such packings up of “mine desk” we have had for a fortnight past. “Ferdinando, you going to take your gun”? “No,” said Ferdinando, “no paura del papa.” [13] Penini suggests with a hand held up, .. “Alibel che mi ha dato questo vestito, (the famous green merino with buttons) dice che se si da un bacio al papa qui (pointing to his foot) non farà male”. [14] See how he has remembered & adapted to his new view of the papal terrors, your joke about kissing the pope’s toe. He remembers, I assure you. Only, when asked about Henrietta, he will persist in having it that she is his “tuzzin,” cousin. So I did’nt mention Penini, in my letter to George? That letter was abruptly cut off, & in the act was cut off Penini. We continue to be jealous of his passion for Ferdinando. He is a child subject to passions of the sort, like one of his parents you will suggest. Did I tell you what he said, (when asked once if he did’nt love Mama & Papa more than Ferdinando), with a magnificent evasion– “I love evellybody, .. Mama, Papa, Lily, Ferdinando, God, & Flush.” When he is what he calls “unhappy,” (fancy Penini’s being unhappy!) he cries out for Ferdinando, sometimes with sobs .. “I muss see mine Ferdinando! I muss love mine Ferdinando,” & when he sees him the child embraces his knees in a passionate way– Ferdinando has bewitched him I think. He was very interested about our seânces, & tried hard to keep his eyes open till eight oclock that he too might see. He lay on my sofa while I was dressing– “Oh– I velly tied. I aflaid I tant teep mine eyes open, dear Mama. Dear Mama, if you det (get) an angel, tell Papa to bwing him in to me, to mine bed–” I just answered & turned round to speak to him further, & there he was, dropped asleep in the very words, looking like an angel himself, with that seraphic face of his. You need’nt be afraid, Arabel. He heard very little, & what he did hear he took quite as a matter of course. He believes in a spiritual world, he at least, & would not be startled by any visible spirit or angel. He says [‘]‘he velly often hears the spinnets knotting” (knocking) but what frightens him is if the knocking is supposed to come from the judge [15] next door– Th<at>’s his only fear. So anxious he is to see “the least piece of wing” of an angel. He wd run in to the “dlawing loom” directly he says, to tell me. You cant think how fluent he is with his Italian– Its just the same as English to him, & he has left off mixing the languages. By the way, his reading English is curious, because of the imperfect articulation, and really he begins to read quite nicely. A book of stories in one syllable was given to him a fortnight ago & he has read it half through already—he reads a page a day, & we never miss a day of the reading on any pretext. Sometimes he brings me “God’s book”, as he always calls the bible, & makes me read to him—but the mode of expression is beyond him yet–
—Robert & I have been persecuted into sitting for our portraits to a painter & a sculptor .. the American poet & painter Mr Buchanan Read, [16] & Mr Wood [17] a young English sculptor who insisted on doing us in bas relief .. in separate medallions, a little smaller than life. The paintings are separate too .. in oilcolours, but cabinet pictures. Robert’s is not unpleasing, but null for expression,—& I am inclined to say the same of my own. The medallions are for Elkington [18] in London, & are to be done in bronze. You cant imagine the boredom of all this to me .. or rather you can. Mr Read paints well, & the pictures are good as pictures. He is to use them for his own profit of course. Mr Story is to do a bust of Robert in Rome, [19] I understand, if he does’nt change his mind. Mr Wood returns to England in December, & one of these days you may see the bronzes at Elkington’s shop.
Your & George’s merinos will answer for Penini all this winter, by lengthening the waists a little, in spite of his growth. I have bought for him besides only a plaid, which trimmed with broad black velvet, is a pretty dress, for the warmer days. His white hat is done up again & looks admirably with its white feather. Penini leads the child-fashion everywhere .. & I am thinking of publishing an infantine “journal des modes,” [20] my taste (& Wilson’s) is so much applauded generally.
Mrs Shaw is the wife of one of the merchant-princes of New York– [21] They are immensely rich, & in Italy for her health [22] —have been in Rome for the last year, & have come to Florence for the winter. So we just cross. You would think her very interesting—simple, direct, truthful to a charm, unspoilt by the world. Robert delights in her. She tells me that in Rome where some earnest & devout persons met periodically for the ‘circles’, the communications they received were most striking as well as satisfactory & relevant– For instance .. once when she was much depressed in spirits, not observably, she says, but consciously .. she received words of this kind .. “The Lord has said, Be not afraid.” [23] I could tell you much more .. but there is no space in a letter– When we meet, Arabel, we will try ourselves, .. shall we not? selecting our own circle. The mixed circles are foolish & wrong. You get nothing good by them. But you shall be convinced, when I come to England, if not before. As to producing the phenomena, you can all do it—it is in the power of nearly all.
What an interesting letter you sent me about your visit to dearest Henrietta, & your adventures on the road. My poor Arabel! to think of you, wandering in the dark in that state of exhaustion!– And how pleasant, on the other hand, to see our beloved Henrietta in your picture, with that glow of happy light on her face!——
Now write to me, I beseech you. Oh– I am anxious, anxious, anxious, this cholera time– [24] How do you find Papa looking? Tell me all. I hope my books will be found in Wimpole Street. [25] Of course Lizzie will go to Ireland directly. Consider, all of you, what I have said about Rome. Write to Rome. And take care that your letter be within (that is, under) a quarter of an ounce, & then we shall pay a moderate postage by the new arrangement, [26] arranged just in time for us. I do beseech you to write often, if ever you think of me or care for me. Direct posta restante, Rome.
Arabel, fancy my passing the evening before last with Mr Lytton, Signor Villeri, [27] & Mr Wood, .. Robert being out. We had been engaged to the Kinneys, & it was too cold for me to go, but Robert was forced to go, to prevent a moral storm. In the meantime in came my male visitors. We have tea & cigars—we talk literature & spiritualism– “A delightful evening”, said Mr Lytton at eleven oclock when we broke up. I think I shall send Robert out another time.
Last night there was a more general le<v>ee—everybody came to wish us goodbye. We know too many people in this Florence just now, & Mr Tennyson, who is worth a score, has not returned yet. Wish that we may be well out of the expedition to Rome. How we have lived this year, moving to & fro, & seeing much society in a quiet way, on less than three hundred a year is really astonishing. I am afraid of the Roman expenses, but we must hope & do as well as we can. By securing Rome we make a first step to Paris & London, & if we can let the house for a year, it will be excellent. Write & tell me of yourself, your health, my beloved .. & say how you find Trippy .. who never sends me a message– Shall you see Mr Hunter, I wonder. My love always, if you do– How is dear Minny? Tell me if you hear of Maddox. Wilson is anxious to hear from her sisters– God bless you all of you—. My tender thoughts are with you all. Speak of Henrietta & the children– Altham must be very forward for his age. Kisses & loves to dearest Trippy though she sends me no message. Robert’s love with those of
your very own Ba–
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 34–43.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Days and year provided by EBB’s mention of departing for “Rome on tuesday morning,” 15 November.
2. Who, in a letter dated 24 July 1853, had received permission from her father, George Goodin Barrett, to visit her maternal aunt Sarah Ryves (née Turner) in Dublin (see SD1668). In late December, Edward Moulton-Barrett writes to Lizzie’s father suggesting that she should stay in Dublin (copy at Eton).
3. “Compromise.”
5. Louisa Bithia Courtenay (1814–1904), for whose personal album EBB had contributed “The Sea-Mew,” at John Kenyon’s request (see letter 528).
6. Samuel Irenæus Prime (1812–85), Presbyterian minister and author of numerous religious books, including Thoughts on the Death of Little Children (New York, 1853), had been the editor of the New York Observer since 1840. In his Travels in Europe and the East (1855), he describes the Brownings as “charming persons—his is a warm, genial spirit, gushing over in his free and familiar conversation. She is intellectual, spiritual, one whom you recognize as holding communion with the unseen. I was greatly pleased with both of them” (II, 95).
7. Eastwick came with an introduction from Bryan Waller Procter (see letter 3211). Peter Lodwick (1784–1873), Lieutenant-General in the Bombay Infantry, was the second son of John Lodwick (1739–91), of South Shoebury, Essex, and his wife Elizabeth (née Kesterman, 1745–1824).
8. Mary Wilson (née Wallace, 1782–1853) died on 15 October at Retford, Nottinghamshire. Her death certificate lists the cause of death as “Bronchitis, 3 Months.”
9. Edmund Tweedy (1812–1901), retired New York merchant, and his wife Mary (née Temple, 1810–91). Married in 1850, the Tweedys had two children: Catherine (1851–59), born at Paris, and Francis (1853–59) born at Bagni di Lucca in June. The Tweedys settled in Newport, Rhode Island, where for a time they lived near the family of Henry James. Tweedy was a close friend of Henry James, Sr. and Mrs. Tweedy was indirectly related to the Jameses.
10. Mary Crowninshield Silsbee (afterwards Whitwell, 1840–1928), was the third daughter and fifth child of Nathaniel Silsbee, Jr. (1804–81), son of Nathaniel Silsbee, Sr., former U.S. senator from Massachusetts, and his wife Marianne Cabot (née Devereux, 1812–89).
11. Underscored three times.
12. An Umbrian town about midway between Perugia and Rome. “The great interest of Terni is derived from the Caduta delle Marmore, one of the wonders of Italy, and celebrated throughout Europe as the ‘Falls of Terni’” (Murray’s A Handbook for Travellers in Central Italy, 1853, part I, p. 257).
13. “I fear not the pope.”
14. “Alibel who gave me this suit, says that if you give a kiss to the pope here it won’t harm you.”
15. Unidentified.
16. These oil portraits by Thomas Buchanan Read (1822–72) are now at the Armstrong Browning Library. They are reproduced facing pp. 336 and 337.
17. Marshall Wood’s medallion of RB was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1854. The medallion of EBB was later engraved and published in the March 1857 issue of The National Magazine, p. 313 (see illustration facing p. 336). The present whereabouts of these medallions is unknown. That of EBB was evidently in the possession of Frederic Chapman as of 1 August 1863, the date of a letter to him from RB, in which the latter writes: “Will you oblige me by lending your Medallion Profile of E.B.B.—that executed by Marshall Wood—to Mr Leighton” (ms at ABL).
18. Elkington & Co., “electro platers & gilders,” a branch of the Birmingham firm, was located at 20 & 22 Regent Street and 45 Moorgate Street (Post Office London Directory, 1853).
19. Story’s bust of RB was not made until 1861.
20. “Fashion magazine.”
21. Mrs. Shaw’s father-in-law, Robert Gould Shaw (see letter 3262, note 12), had made the family fortune. His merchant operations and investments “extended all over the world. … The American consul to Genoa commented that ‘more than half the vessels entering this port have been owned by Robert Gould Shaw.’ … Boston merchant-shipowners such as Shaw grew rich through their cheap handling and distribution of China goods” (Lorien Foote, Seeking the One Great Remedy: Francis George Shaw and Nineteenth-Century Reform, Athens, Ohio, 2003, pp. 18–19). Shaw’s son, Francis George Shaw, chose a different path, however, retiring from the family business in 1841 at the age of 32 and devoting himself to the abolition of slavery and social reforms in which his wife joined him. “He could have been one of the richest men in New England, but he told a friend that ‘he has made money enough & he thinks a greater accumulation in his hands would be oppression & injustice to the poor’” (p. 30). In 1847 he moved his family from West Roxbury (then a rural area but now part of South Boston) to Staten Island, New York.
22. In the mid-1840’s Sarah Shaw began suffering from an eye ailment and a respiratory condition, which influenced the family’s move to Staten Island. In 1851, “lingering coughs” necessitated the trip abroad (see Seeking the One Great Remedy, pp. 60–61 and 63).
23. Matthew 14:27.
24. An article in The Times of 2 November 1853 reported an above average number of deaths in the Greater London area, mainly due to cholera, “the progress of which has been recorded during the last two months, and which has now attacked many parts of the metropolis, widely distant, between Hammersmith and Whitechapel” (p. 7). In the preceding week, most of the deaths occurred south of the Thames. Only one death was reported in the district of St. Marylebone, which included Wimpole Street.
25. Presumably EBB’s Poems (1853), two copies of which were to be sent to 50 Wimpole Street by the publisher (see letter 3260).
26. According to Murray’s A Handbook for Travellers in Central Italy (1856), “the postage on a single letter, not exceeding ¼ oz. in weight from England is 22 baiocchi [about 11 pence]” (part II, p. xiii).
27. Sic, for Villari.
___________________
