Boyesen. I remember you gave me, in 1874, a letter of introduction to a Venetian friend of yours, named Brunetta, whom I failed to find.
Howells. Yes, Brunetta was the first friend I had in Venice. He was a distinctly Latin character—sober, well-regulated, and probity itself.
Boyesen. Do you call that the Latin character?
Howells. It is not our conventional idea of it; but it is fully as characteristic, if not more so, than the light, 7 mercurial, pleasure-loving type which somehow in literature has displaced the other. Brunetta and I promptly made the discovery that we were congenial. Then we became daily companions. I had a number of other Italian friends too, full of beautiful bonhomie and Southern sweetness of temperament.
W. D. HOWELLS, AFTER HIS RETURN FROM VENICE.
Boyesen. You must have acquired Italian in a very short time?
Howells. Yes; being domesticated in that way in the very heart of that Italy, which was then Italia irridente, I could not help steeping myself in its atmosphere and breathing in the language, with the rest of its very composite flavors.
Boyesen. Yes; and whatever I know of Italian literature I owe largely to the completeness of that soaking process of yours. Your book on the Italian poets is one of the most charmingly sympathetic and illuminative bits of criticism that I know.