e at
Florence in a week, and add--in the imperative--that they must be in
London in three! _Vedremmo!_ These cases--may they end well--are sure,
meanwhile, to be somewhat tedious in their progress; and besides, were
there none such, two motives have we for always lingering the last in
Rome: the one, to avoid the importunity of many indiscreet
acquaintance, who would else be sure at this season to plague us with
some trifling commission, on purpose to open a sudden correspondence,
in the hope of learning all about the heat, the fever, the mosquitoes,
the fare and the accommodation of Castellamare and Sorrento, thinking
themselves, meanwhile, perfect Talleyrands in diplomacy, in employing
a ruse which it is impossible not to see through; the other and more
important, to secure the necessary quiet while we linger about
favourite haunts, and refresh our memory with sites and scenes
endeared by long and intimate acquaintance. To describe people or
places accurately, requires a long and attentive familiarity, but to
do so feelingly and with effect, we should trust principally to first
and last impressions: either will be more likely to furnish a lively
representation, as far as it goes, than when too great intimacy with
details leads us to forget what is characteristic, and to dwell
without emphasis, or with equal and tedious emphasis, upon all alike.
New scenes, owing, perhaps, part of their charm to that circumstance,
may occasionally betray us into exaggeration; but the records of a
last _coup-d'oeil_, when we dwell with sad complacency upon every
feature, as upon those of a friend from whom we are about to part, are
characterised at once by an equal freshness, and by more truth,
feeling, and discrimination. We might proceed to exemplify this, from
a long series of first and last views in Italy: with some of them the
reader may be familiar, for we have frequently met in Maga's pages;
with others he will--should it so please him--become acquainted, when,
leaving the company of our present agreeable associates, we stand
forth an author of "Travels," and have more ample scope for our
egotism. We confine ourselves now to a few valedictory visits in and
about Rome.

THE VILLA BORGHESE.

It was on 15th April, 1843, seven A. M., when we went to take farewell
of the Borghese. In passing up the Via Babuino on our way thither, our
ears catch some of the well-known street cries. These generally
attract a momentary attentio