ands thee well,--who knew thee no
less when an object of popular fear than now of idolatry,--and who, if
the pen be not held too feebly, will help posterity to know thee too!

* * * * *

TO HER SISTER, MRS. E.K. CHANNING.

Rome, June 19, 1849.

As was Eve, at first, I suppose every mother is delighted by the birth
of a man-child. There is a hope that he will conquer more ill, and
effect more good, than is expected from girls. This prejudice in favor
of man does not seem to be destroyed by his shortcomings for ages.
Still, each mother hopes to find in hers an Emanuel. I should like
very much to see your children, but hardly realize I ever shall.
The journey home seems so long, so difficult, so expensive. I should
really like to lie down here, and sleep my way into another sphere of
existence, if I could take with me one or two that love and need me,
and was sure of a good haven for them on that other side.

The world seems to go so strangely wrong! The bad side triumphs; the
blood and tears of the generous flow in vain. I assist at many saddest
scenes, and suffer for those whom I knew not before. Those whom I knew
and loved,--who, if they had triumphed, would have opened for me an
easier, broader, higher-mounting road,--are everyday more and more
involved in earthly ruin. Eternity is with us, but there is much
darkness and bitterness in this portion of it. A baleful star rose on
my birth, and its hostility, I fear, will never be disarmed while I
walk below.

* * * * *

TO W.H. CHANNING.

July, 1849.

I cannot tell you what I endured in leaving Rome, abandoning the
wounded soldiers,--knowing that there is no provision made for them,
when they rise from the beds where they have been thrown by a noble
courage, and have suffered with a noble patience. Some of the poorer
men, who rise bereft even of the right arm,--one having lost both the
right arm and the right leg,--I could have provided for with a small
sum. Could I have sold my hair, or blood from my arm, I would have
done it. Had any of the rich Americans remained in Rome, they would
have given it to me; they helped nobly at first, in the service of the
hospitals, when there was far less need; but they had all gone. What
would I have given could I but have spoken to one of the Lawrences,
or the Phillipses! They could and would have saved this misery. These
poor men are left helpless in the power o