illusions when she saw L'inconnu take—a pinch of snuff!
The Moccoli-day did not end for us in Mrs. Grant's elegant drawing-room, but in an Osteria near the Palazzo Borghese, where we, this evening, were to witness a scene of popular life. It was gay, harmless, and picturesque, the dancers and the costumes similar to those at the model's ball, but less beautiful. The fumes of tobacco and the crowd compelled us soon to leave the place, and we are now paying the penalty of our Carnival-pleasure in a severe attack of influenza. But two-thirds of the inhabitants of Rome are in the same condition—not a very agreeable result of the Carnival.
To-day—Ash Wednesday—the official newspaper, Giornale di Roma, the only large newspaper published in Rome, contains a solemn proclamation which commences with a high-flown glorification of the happiness of belonging to “the only true and saving church, which is alone infallible and immovable.” After this a great deal is said about the solicitude of his holiness the Pope, for his flock—particularly that of Rome, and that this solicitude has induced him to appoint this fast-day as a special jubilee, which shall be celebrated with preaching in all the churches and by an Indulgenza plenaria[1] to all such as will conform to certain conditions which will be further made known in the churches. This pompous proclamation concludes with a detailed bill of fare as to what people
- ↑ That is to say, forgiveness of all sins, hitherto committed.—Author's Note.
