height, strong in the shoulders, but slender at the waist, and his movements expressed a combination of vigor and elasticity. He was, I should judge, about thirty-seven years of age, but his dark hair was already streaked with gray about the temples." Such was he to look upon, and already he was recognized as one of the greatest English poets, yet destined never to be popular. Taylor had called to see the Brownings, and tells us that when Mrs. Browning entered the room her husband "ran to meet her with a boyish liveliness. She was slight and fragile in appearance with a pale, wasted face, shaded by masses of soft chestnut curls, which fell on her cheeks, and serious eyes of bluish gray. Her frame seemed to be altogether disproportionate to her soul. This at least was the first impression: her personality, frail as it appeared, soon exercised its power and it seemed a natural thing that she should have written the 'Cry of the Children,' or 'Lady Geraldine's Courtship.' I also understood how these two poets, so different both intellectually and physically, should have found their complements in each other. They appear to be—and are—perfectly happy in their wedded life." Later in the evening after the poets had discussed with good humor whether a republican form of government is favorable to the fine arts, another Browning appeared on the scene. "Their child, a blue-eyed, golden-haired boy of two years old, was brought into the room. He stammered Italian sentences only; he knew nothing, as yet, of his native tongue." The boy afterwards exhibited a remarkable genius for music and drawing.
The Brownings had made their home at Florence, "The flower of all cities, and city of all flowers." Here, in the grand and gloomy Casa Guidi, which her genius has immortalized, husband and wife lived and wrote for more than twenty years. She used chiefly the large drawing-room, which opened on a balcony filled with plants, and
