nstant to those moments in which he has
been truly human, not brutal, not mechanical, is on the sure path to
his perfection, and to effectual service of the universe.

It is to the youth that hope addresses itself; to those who yet burn
with aspiration, who are not hardened in their sins. But I dare not
expect too much of them. I am not very old; yet of those who, in
life's morning, I saw touched by the light of a high hope, many have
seceded. Some have become voluptuaries; some, mere family men, who
think it quite life enough to win bread for half a dozen people,
and treat them, decently; others are lost through indolence and
vacillation. Yet some remain constant;

"I have witnessed many a shipwreck,
Yet still beat noble hearts."

I have found many among the youth of England, of France, of Italy,
also, full of high desire; but will they have courage and purity to
fight the battle through in the sacred, the immortal band? Of some
of them I believe it, and await the proof. If a few succeed amid the
trial, we have not lived and loved in vain.

To these, the heart and hope of my country, a happy new year! I do
not know what I have written; I have merely yielded to my feelings
in thinking of America; but something of true love must be in these
lines. Receive them kindly, my friends; it is, of itself, some merit
for printed words to be sincere.

LETTER XIX.

THE CLIMATE OF ITALY.--REVIEW OF FIRST IMPRESSIONS.--ROME IN ITS
VARIOUS ASPECTS.--THE POPE.--CEMETERY OF SANTO SPIRITO.--CEREMONIES AT
THE CHAPELS.--THE WOMEN OF ITALY.--FESTIVAL OF ST. CARLO BORROMEO.--AN
INCIDENT IN THE CHAPEL.--ENGLISH RESIDENTS IN THE SEVEN-HILLED
CITY.--MRS. TROLLOPE A RESIDENT OF FLORENCE.--THE POPE AS HE
COMMUNICATES WITH HIS PEOPLE.--THE POSITION OF AFFAIRS.--LESSER
POTENTATES.--THE INAUGURATION OF THE NEW COUNCIL.--THE CEREMONIES
THERETO APPERTAINING.--THE AMERICAN FLAG IN ROME.--A BALL.--A FEAST,
AND ITS REVERSE.--THE FUNERAL OF A COUNCILLOR.

Rome, December 17, 1847.

This 17th day of December I rise to see the floods of sunlight
blessing us, as they have almost every day since I returned to
Rome,--two months and more,--with scarce three or four days of rainy
weather. I still see the fresh roses and grapes each morning on my
table, though both these I expect to give up at Christmas.

This autumn is _something like_, as my countrymen say at home. Like
_what_, they do not say; so I always supposed they meant like their