Rome, January, 1848. — As one becomes domesticated here, ancient and modern Rome, at first so jumbled together, begin to separate. You see where objects and limits anciently were. When this happens, one feels first truly at ease in Rome. Then the old kings, the consuls, the tribunes, the emperors, the warriors of eagle sight and remorseless beak, return for us, and the toga-clad procession finds room to sweep across the scene; the seven hills tower, the innumerable temples glitter, and the Via Sacra swarms with triumphal life once more.
Rome, Jan. 12, 1848. — In Rome, here, the new Council
is inaugurated, and the elections have given tolerable
satisfaction. Twenty-four carriages bad been lent by the
princes and nobles, at the request of the city, to convey
the councillors. Each deputy was followed by his target
and banner. In the evening, there was a ball given at
the Argentine. Lord Minto was there, Prince Corsini,
now senator, the Torlonias, in uniform of the Civic
Guard, Princess Torlonia, in a sash of their colors given
her by the Civic Guard, which she waved in answer to
their greetings. But the beautiful show of the evening
was the Trasteverini dancing the Saltarello in their
most beautiful costume. I saw them thus to much
greater advantage than ever before. Several were nobly
handsome, and danced admirably. The saltarello
enchants me; in this is really the Italian wine, the Italian
sun.
The Pope, in receiving the councillors, made a speech, intimating that he meant only to improve, not to reform, and should keep things safe locked with the keys of St. Peter.
