e at Casa Guidi: from R.H. Stoddart, Bayard
Taylor, Nathaniel Hawthorne, George Stillman Hillard, and W.W. Story. I
can find room, however, for but one excerpt:--

"Those who have known Casa Guidi as it was, could hardly enter the
loved rooms now, and speak above a whisper. They who have been so
favoured, can never forget the square anteroom, with its great
picture and pianoforte, at which the boy Browning passed many an
hour--the little dining-room covered with tapestry, and where hung
medallions of Tennyson, Carlyle, and Robert Browning--the long
room filled with plaster-casts and studies, which was Mrs.
Browning's retreat--and, dearest of all, the large drawing-room
where _she_ always sat. It opens upon a balcony filled with
plants, and looks out upon the iron-grey church of Santa Felice.
There was something about this room that seemed to make it a
proper and especial haunt for poets. The dark shadows and subdued
light gave it a dreary look, which was enhanced by the
tapestry-covered walls, and the old pictures of saints that looked
out sadly from their carved frames of black wood. Large bookcases
constructed of specimens of Florentine carving selected by Mr.
Browning were brimming over with wise-looking books. Tables were
covered with more gaily-bound volumes, the gifts of brother
authors. Dante's grave profile, a cast of Keats's face and brow
taken after death, a pen-and-ink sketch of Tennyson, the genial
face of John Kenyon, Mrs. Browning's good friend and relative,
little paintings of the boy Browning, all attracted the eye in
turn, and gave rise to a thousand musings. A quaint mirror,
easy-chairs and sofas, and a hundred nothings that always add an
indescribable charm, were all massed in this room. But the glory
of all, and that which sanctified all, was seated in a low
arm-chair near the door. A small table, strewn with
writing-materials, books, and newspapers, was always by her
side.... After her death, her husband had a careful water-colour
drawing made of this room, which has been engraved more than once.
It still hangs in his drawing-room, where the mirror and one of
the quaint chairs above named still are. The low arm-chair and
small table are in Browning's study--with his father's desk, on
which he has wri