one day in a visit to Torre dei Schiavi and the neighborhood, and another on Monte Mario, both Rome and the Campagna-day golden in the mellowest lustre of the Italian sun. * * * But to you I may tell, that I always go with Ossoli, the most congenial companion I ever had for jaunts of this kind. We go out in the morning, carrying the roast chestnuts from Rome; the bread and wine are found in some lonely little osteria; and so we dine; and reach Rome again, just in time to see it, from a little distance, gilded by the sunset.
This moon having been so clear, and the air so warm, we have visited, on successive evenings, all the places we fancied: Monte Cavallo, now so lonely and abandoned, — no lights there but moon and stars, — Trinità de’ Monti, Santa Maria Maggiore, and the Forum. So now, if the rain must come, or I be driven from Rome, I have all the images fair and fresh in my mind.
About public events, why remain ignorant? Take a daily paper in the house. The Italian press has recovered from the effervescence of childish spirits; — you can now approximate to the truth from its reports. There are many good papers now in Italy. Whatever represents the Montanelli ministry is best for you. That gives the lead now. I see good articles copied from the “Alba.”
TO MADAME ARCONATI.
Rome, Feb. 5, 1849. — I am so delighted to get your letter, that I must answer on the instant. I try with all my force to march straight onwards, — to answer the claims of the day; to act out my feeling as seems right at the time, and not heed the consequences; — but in
