th and the next day burnt and melted, and that people couldn't be
healthy under such transitions. But all countries of the south are
subject to the same of course wherever there is a southern sun, and
mountains to retain snow. Even in Paris you complain of something a
little like it, because of the sun. We left Florence in a blaze of
sunshine accordingly, and there and everywhere found the country
transfigured back into summer, except for two days of April rain. Of the
kindness of our dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Eckley I am moved when I try
to speak. They humiliate me by their devotion. Such generosity and
delicacy, combined with so much passionate sentiment (there is no other
word), are difficult to represent. The Americans are great in some
respects, not that Americans generally are like these, but that these
could scarcely be English--for instance, that mixture of enthusiasm and
simplicity we have not. Our journey was delightful and not without some
incidents, which might have been accidents. We were as nearly as
possible thrown once into a ditch and once down a mountain precipice,
the spirited horses plunging on one side, but at last Mr. Eckley lent us
his courier, who sate on the box by the coachman and helped him to
manage better. Then there was a fight between our oxen-drivers, one of
them attempting to stab the other with a knife, and Robert rushing in
between till Peni and I were nearly frantic with fright. No harm
happened, however, except that Robert had his trousers torn. And we
escaped afterwards certain banditti, who stopped a carriage only the day
before on the very road we travelled, and robbed it of sixty-two scudi.

Here at Rome we are still fortunate, for with enormous prices rankling
around us we get into our old quarters at eleven pounds a month. The
rooms are smaller than our ambition would fain climb to (one climbs,
also, a little too high on the stairs), but on the whole the quiet
healthfulness and sunshine are excellent things, particularly in Rome,
and we are perfectly contented....

Rome is so full that I am proceeding to lock up my doors throughout the
day. I can't live without some use of life. Here must come the break.
May God bless you both! Pen's love with mine to the dear nonno and
yourself.

BA.

* * * * *

_To Mr. Ruskin_

Rome, 43 Bocca di Leone: January 1, 1859.

My dear Mr. Ruskin,--There is an impulse upon me to write to you, and as
it ought