, nor any of their pictures, among which were originals
by several of the greatest masters, nor their rich cabinets, nor
miniatures on agate, nor carving in wood and ivory. They only showed
me their things, and their family archives of more than a hundred
volumes, (containing most interesting documents about Poland, where
four of their ancestors were nuncios,) manuscript letters from Tasso,
and the like. With comments on these, and legendary lore enough to
furnish Cooper or Walter Scott with a thousand romances, they enriched
me; unhappily, I shall never have the strength or talent to make due
use of it. I was sorry to leave them, for now I have recrossed the
frontier into the Roman States. I will not tell you where,--I know
not that I shall ever tell where,--these months have been passed. The
great Goethe hid thus in Italy; "Then," said he, "I did indeed feel
alone,--when no former friend could form an _idea_ where I was." Why
should not ---- and I enjoy this fantastic luxury of _incognito_ also,
when we can so much more easily?

I will not name the place, but I will describe it. The rooms are
spacious and airy; the loggia of the sleeping room is rude, but it
overhangs a lovely little river, with its hedge of willows. Opposite
is a large and rich vineyard; on one side a ruined tower, on the other
an old casino, with its avenues of cypress, give human interest to the
scene. A cleft amid the mountains full of light leads on the eye to a
soft blue peak, very distant. At night the young moon trembles in the
river, and its soft murmur soothes me to sleep; it needs, for I have
had lately a bad attack upon the nerves, and been obliged to stop
writing for the present. I think I shall stay here some time, though I
suppose there are such sweet places all over Italy, if one only looks
for one's self. Poor, beautiful Italy! how she has been injured of
late! It is dreadful to see the incapacity and meanness of those to
whom she had confided the care of her redemption.

I have thus far passed this past month of fine weather most
delightfully in revisiting my haunts of the autumn before. Then, too,
I was uncommonly well and strong; it was the golden period of my Roman
life. The experience what long confinement may be expected after, from
the winter rains, has decided me _never_ to make my hay when the sun
shines: _i.e._, to give no fine day to books and pens.

The places of interest I am nearest now are villas Albani and
Ludovisi,