s on the
25th February, and came, _via_ Chalons, Lyons, Avignon, (where I waded
through melting snow to Laura's tomb,) Arles, to Marseilles; thence,
by steamer, to Genoa, Leghorn, and Pisa. Seen through a cutting wind,
the marble palaces, the gardens, the magnificent water-view of Genoa,
failed to charm. Only at Naples have I found _my_ Italy. Between
Leghorn and Naples, our boat was run into by another, and we only just
escaped being drowned.

ROME.

_Rome, May_, 1847.--Of the fragments of the great time, I have now
seen nearly all that are treasured up here. I have as yet nothing of
consequence to say of them. Others have often given good hints as
to how they _look_. As to what they _are_, it can only be known by
approximating to the state of soul out of which they grew. They are
many and precious; yet is there not so much of high excellence as
I looked for. They will not float the heart on a boundless sea of
feeling, like the starry night on our Western Prairies. Yet I love
much to see the galleries of marbles, even where there are not many
separately admirable, amid the cypresses and ilexes of Roman villas;
and a picture that is good at all, looks best in one of these old
palaces. I have heard owls hoot in the Colosseum by moonlight, and
they spoke more to the purpose than I ever heard any other voice on
that subject. I have seen all the pomps of Holy Week in St. Peter's,
and found them less imposing than an habitual acquaintance with the
church itself, with processions of monks and nuns stealing in, now and
then, or the swell of vespers from some side chapel. The ceremonies of
the church have been numerous and splendid, during our stay, and they
borrow unusual interest from the love and expectation inspired by the
present pontiff. He is a man of noble and good aspect, who has set his
heart on doing something solid for the benefit of man. A week or
two ago, the Cardinal Secretary published a circular, inviting
the departments to measures which would give the people a sort of
representative council. Nothing could seem more limited than this
improvement, but it was a great measure for Rome. At night, the
Corso was illuminated, and many thousands passed through it in a
torch-bearing procession, on their way to the Quirinal, to thank the
Pope, upbearing a banner on which the edict was printed.

TO W.H.C.

_Rome, May_ 7, 1847.--I write not to you about these countries, of the
famous people I see, of