Chapter XXII: Letter XXI: Gabriele Rossetti to Dante Rossetti

(Translation.)

The _Arpa Evangelica_ was a volume of religious lyrics by my father, then recently published.

“My friend Di Negro” was the Marchese Gian Carlo di Negro, a Genoese patrician of good literary standing--known to my father by correspondence, not in person.

Frome.
4 October 1853.

My dearest Gabriel,

For some while past I have been feeling a strong impulse to
write to you, my dearly beloved son; and to-day I will obey this
imperious inner voice.

I am glad that you have undertaken to read the _Arpa
Evangelica_.... You should, however, always bear in mind that
this book is the outcome of only three months’ work, and was
written with the intention of its being amenable to every grade
of intelligence.

I am extremely pleased at the progress which you are making in
your beautiful art, and at some profits which you are earning
from it to maintain yourself with decorum in society. Remember,
my dearly loved son, that you have only your abilities to rely
upon for your welfare. Remember that you were born with a
marked propensity, and that, from your earliest years, you made
us conceive the brightest hopes that you would become a great
painter. And such you will be, I am certain.

At this moment I have received a letter from Genoa, from my
friend Di Negro. He rejoices at the arrival of the _Arpa_.... He
says that throughout Piedmont, and in Liguria and Sardinia, it is
well received and generally admired; but that in the other parts
of Italy the governments prohibit its entry, on account of the
author’s name, which has become a veritable scarecrow to Kings.
If you had to go to Italy, I would recommend you, my dear son,
always to call yourself Dante Rossetti. But, before a time comes
for that, I trust that affairs will have changed.

I beg you to go frequently to visit your worthy grandfather. What
an excellent old man!...

Good-bye, my most lovable Gabriel, and believe in the constant
affection of

Your affectionate father,
GABRIELE ROSSETTI.

P.S.--I perceive I have not spoken to you at all about the state
of my health. And what can I say of it? It is the same as it was
in London; betwixt life and death, but more tending to the latter
than the former.