who, with his head crowned with vine-leaves and everlasting flowers, presents the wine-cup to humanity, whilst he says, “Enjoy the gift of the Immortals, but do not abuse it!”
Gibson agreed with me, that the highest object of art, is to present the ideals of life in beautiful forms.
Miss Hosmer was not at home. She has given me a good photograph of her little Puck, which I shall take with me to Sweden.
I have now told you so much about Roman affairs, churches, priests, artists, &c., that you will have patience to hear a little about my own private life. You may, perhaps, have observed that I now say we. The reason of this is, that I have frequently made my little excursions in company with my friendly countryman Mr. S——, that I have made some acquaintance in my lofty abode on the Tarpeian Rock, where, for some weeks, have been living two agreeable young ladies, now my friends. The one is a blonde, with an exterior and bearing as proud as if she were Queen Elizabeth of England, but with the heart and disposition of the gentlest woman. The other is a German, a charming brunette, an actual Psyché-form, with chestnut-brown locks falling around a child-like, pretty, but pale countenance, with an expression of melancholy and goodness, and beautiful eyes, with a wonderfully deep glance. This young lady is distinguished amongst her friends by a multitude of names, “Puss,” “Puck,” “Psyché,” &c. I call her, the little Tedesca, because, the deep romantic spirit of her father-land lives in her. She is father and motherless, and has come to Italy for the restoration of her health, and
