mocracy, he was quite indifferent to this manifestation on this
consecrated spot. Passing the winter in Rome to study art, he was
insensible to the artistic beauty of the scene,--insensible to this
new life of that spirit from which all the forms he gazes at
in galleries emanated. He "did not see the use of these popular
demonstrations."

Again I must mention a remark of his, as a specimen of the ignorance
in which Americans usually remain during their flighty visits to these
scenes, where they associate only with one another. And I do it the
rather as this seemed a really thoughtful, intelligent man; no vain,
vulgar trifler. He said, "The people seem only to be looking on; they
take no part."

What people? said I.

"Why, these around us; there is no other people."

There are a few beggars, errand-boys, and nurse-maids.

"The others are only soldiers."

Soldiers! The Civic Guard! all the decent men in Rome.

Thus it is that the American, on many points, becomes more ignorant
for coming abroad, because he attaches some value to his crude
impressions and frequent blunders. It is not thus that any seed-corn
can be gathered from foreign gardens. Without modest scrutiny, patient
study, and observation, he spends his money and goes home, with a
new coat perhaps, but a mind befooled rather than instructed. It
is necessary to speak the languages of these countries, and know
personally some of their inhabitants, in order to form any accurate
impressions.

The flight of the Grand Duke of Tuscany followed. In imitation of
his great exemplar, he promised and smiled to the last, deceiving
Montanelli, the pure and sincere, at the very moment he was about to
enter his carriage, into the belief that he persevered in his assent
to the liberal movement. His position was certainly very difficult,
but he might have left it like a gentleman, like a man of honor. 'T
was pity to destroy so lightly the good opinion the Tuscans had of
him. Now Tuscany meditates union with Rome.

Meanwhile, Charles Albert is filled with alarm. He is indeed betwixt
two fires. Gioberti has published one of his prolix, weak addresses,
in which, he says, that in the beginning of every revolution one must
fix a limit beyond which he will not go; that, for himself, he has
done it,--others are passing beyond his mark, and he will not go any
farther. Of the want of thought, of insight into historic and all
other truths, which distinguishes the "illustrious G