penitent, doomed to penance), and, grinning with sharp teeth,
observes: "He speaks in my way now." In the background a young
Republican holds ready the match for a barrel of gunpowder, but looks
at his watch, waiting the moment to ignite it.

A happy New Year to my country! may she be worthy of the privileges
she possesses, while others are lavishing their blood to win
them,--that is all that need be wished for her at present.

LETTER XXVII.

ROME.--THE CARNIVAL: THE MOCCOLETTI.--THE ROMAN CHARACTER.--THE
POPE'S FLIGHT.--THE ASSEMBLY.--THE PEOPLE.--THE POPE'S MISTAKE.--HIS
MANIFESTO: ITS TONE AND EFFECT.--DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPORAL DOMINION
OF THE CHURCH.

Rome, Evening of Feb. 20, 1849.

It is said you cannot thoroughly know any place till you have both
summered and wintered in it; but more than one summer and winter of
experience seems to be needed for Rome. How I fretted last winter,
during the three months' rain, and sepulchral chill, and far worse
than sepulchral odors, which accompanied it! I thought it was the
invariable Roman winter, and that I should never be able to stay here
during another; so took my room only by the month, thinking to fly so
soon as the rain set in. And lo! it has never rained at all; but there
has been glorious sun and moon, unstained by cloud, always; and these
last days have been as warm as May,--the days of the Carnival, for I
have just come in from seeing the _Moccoletti_.

The Republican Carnival has not been as splendid as the Papal, the
absence of dukes and princes being felt in the way of coaches and
rich dresses; there are also fewer foreigners than usual, many having
feared to assist at this most peaceful of revolutions. But if
less splendid, it was not less gay; the costumes were many and
fanciful,--flowers, smiles, and fun abundant.

This is the first time of my seeing the true _Moccoletti_; last year,
in one of the first triumphs of democracy, they did not blow oat the
lights, thus turning it into an illumination. The effect of the swarms
of lights, little and large, thus in motion all over the fronts of
the houses, and up and down the Corso, was exceedingly pretty and
fairy-like; but that did not make up for the loss of that wild,
innocent gayety of which this people alone is capable after childhood,
and which never shines out so much as on this occasion. It is
astonishing the variety of tones, the lively satire and taunt of which
the words _Senza moccolo_,