sphere of my destiny so difficult, that
I, at present, see no way out, except through the gate of death. It
is useless to write of it; you are at a distance and cannot help
me;--whether accident or angel will, I have no intimation. I have no
reason to hope I shall not reap what I have sown, and do not. Yet how
I shall endure it I cannot guess; it is all a dark, sad enigma. The
beautiful forms of art charm no more, and a love, in which there is
all fondness, but no help, flatters in vain. I am all alone; nobody
around me sees any of this. My numerous friendly acquaintances are
troubled if they see me ill, and who so affectionate and kind as Mr.
and Mrs. S.?

TO MADAME ARCONATI.

_Rome, Jan_. 14, 1848.--What black and foolish calumnies are these
on Mazzini! It is as much for his interest as his honor to let things
take their course, at present. To expect anything else, is to suppose
him base. And on what act of his life dares any one found such an
insinuation? I do not wonder that you were annoyed at his manner
of addressing the Pope; but to me it seems that he speaks as he
should,--near God and beyond the tomb; not from power to power, but
from soul to soul, without regard to temporal dignities. It must be
admitted that the etiquette, Most Holy Father, &c., jars with this.

TO R.W.E.

_Rome, March_ 14, 1848.--Mickiewicz is with me here, and will remain
some time; it was he I wanted to see, more than any other person, in
going back to Paris, and I have him much better here. France itself
I should like to see, but remain undecided, on account of my health,
which has suffered so much, this winter, that I must make it the
first object in moving for the summer. One physician thinks it will of
itself revive, when once the rains have passed, which have now lasted
from 16th December to this day. At present, I am not able to leave the
fire, or exert myself at all.

* * * * *

In all the descriptions of the Roman Carnival, the fact has been
omitted of daily rain. I felt, indeed, ashamed to perceive it, when no
one else seemed to, whilst the open windows caused me convulsive cough
and headache. The carriages, with their cargoes of happy women dressed
in their ball dresses and costumes, drove up and down, even in the
pouring rain. The two handsome _contadine_, who serve me, took off
their woollen gowns, and sat five hours at a time, in the street, in
white cambric dresses, and s