ELEVENTH STATION.
In Rome—First impression—First rambles in old and new Rome—The Pope—The last Judgment—Church Festivals—Drawing-room Life—Popular Life—Faith in Miracles—The Catacombs—A Poetess—Christmas-day in the Vatican—Child preachings—S. Paulo fuori de Mure—Attempt at Conversion—A little of Everything—Close of the year 1857.
Rome, December.—“It is singular!” exclaimed the pleasant voice of Jenny, “but the first feeling which I experience in Rome is hunger.”
“And I confess that I am looking forward with the greatest satisfaction to a cup of coffee,” said our traveling companion in the coupé, a young Englishman, and a gentleman.
I acknowledge, that I wished for nothing more than a cup of tea!
These were our first feelings in the eternal city, where we sat waiting in the diligence on the Piazza del Popolo, after having given up our passports at the city gate. It was late in the evening. Before us, three long streets opened fan-like, glimmering with light; on the square just before us, rose an obelisk like a huge shadow; at a little distance gleamed forth two cupolas; and above the square, and above us, Jupiter shone brightly in the sky. After half an hour's delay, we drove to La Dagano; escaped having our luggage opened, in consideration of a small fee,
