I fear I never shall.

My boy may, perhaps.

Red tape has garrotted this political generation....
I persist in being in high hopes for my Italy.
Ever affectionately yours ELIZABETH B.BROWNING.
* * * * * Early in December the move to Rome took place, and they found rooms at 28 Via del Tritone.

During the winter Mrs.Browning was preparing for the press her last volume, the 'Poems before Congress,' while her husband, in a fit of disinclination to write poetry, occupied himself by trying his hand at sculpture.
* * * * * _To Miss Browning_ [Rome: December 1859.] Dearest Sarianna,--Robert will have told you of the success of our journey, which the necessities of Mr.Landor very nearly pushed back into the cold too late.

We had even resolved that if the wind changed before morning we would accept it 'as a sign' and altogether give up Rome.