cheated
to the uttermost with all the subtlety of Italy and to the full
extent of our ignorance; think what _that_ must have been! Our present
apartment, with the hire of a grand piano and music, does not cost us
so much within ever so many francisconi. Oh, and you don't frighten me
though we are on the north side of the Arno! We have taken our rooms
for two months, and may be here longer, and the fear of the heat was
stronger with me than the fear of the cold, or we might have been in
the Pitti and 'arrostiti' by this time. We expected dear Mrs.
Jameson on Saturday, but she came on Friday evening, having suddenly
remembered that it was Shakespeare's birthday, and bringing with her
from Arezzo a bottle of wine to 'drink to his memory with two other
poets,' so there was a great deal of merriment, as you may fancy, and
Robert played Shakespeare's favorite air, 'The Light of Love,' and
everybody was delighted to meet everybody, and Roman news and Pisan
dullness were properly discussed on every side. She saw a good deal
of Cobden in Rome, and went with him to the Sistine Chapel. He has no
feeling for art, and, being very true and earnest, could only do his
best to _try_ to admire Michael Angelo; but here and there, where he
understood, the pleasure was expressed with a blunt characteristic
simplicity. Standing before the statue of Demosthenes, he said:
'That man is persuaded himself of what he speaks, and will therefore
persuade others.' She liked him exceedingly. For my part, I should
join in more admiration if it were not for his having _accepted
money_, but paid patriots are no heroes of mine. 'Verily they have
their reward.' O'Connell had arrived in Rome, and it was considered
that he came only to die. Among the artists, Gibson and Wyatt were
doing great things; she wishes us to know Gibson particularly. As to
the Pope he lives in an atmosphere of love and admiration, and 'he is
doing _what he can_,' Mrs. Jameson believes. Robert says: 'A dreadful
situation, after all, for a man of understanding and honesty! I pity
him from my soul, for he can, at best, only temporise with truth.'
But human nature is doomed to pay a high price for its opportunities.
Delighted I am to have your good account of dear Mr. Martin, though
you are naughty people to persist in going to England so soon. Do
write to me and tell me all about both of you. I will do what I
can--like the Pope--but what can I do? Yes, indeed, I mean to enjoy
art and