_Florence, July_ 1, 1847.--I do not wish to go through Germany in
a hurried way, and am equally unsatisfied to fly through Italy; and
shall, therefore, leaving my companions in Switzerland, take a servant
to accompany me, and return hither, and hence to Rome for the autumn,
perhaps the winter. I should always suffer the pain of Tantalus
thinking of Rome, if I could not see it more thoroughly than I have
as yet even begun to; for it was all _outside_ the two months, just
finding out where objects were. I had only just begun to know them,
when I was obliged to leave. The prospect of returning presents many
charms, but it leaves me alone in the midst of a strange land.
I find myself happily situated here, in many respects. The Marchioness
Arconati Visconti, to whom I brought a letter from a friend of hers
in France, has been good to me as a sister, and introduced me to many
interesting acquaintance. The sculptors, Powers and Greenough, I have
seen much and well. Other acquaintance I possess, less known to fame,
but not less attractive.
Florence is not like Rome. At first, I could not bear the change; yet,
for the study of the fine arts, it is a still richer place. Worlds of
thought have risen in my mind; some time you will have light from all.
* * * * *
_Milan, Aug_. 9, 1847.--Passing from Florence, I came to Bologna. A
woman should love Bologna, for there has the intellect of woman been
cherished. In their Certosa, they proudly show the monument to Matilda
Tambreni, late Greek professor there. In their anatomical hall, is the
bust of a woman, professor of anatomy. In art, they have had Properzia
di Rossi, Elisabetta Sirani, Lavinia Fontana, and delight to give
their works a conspicuous place. In other cities, the men alone have
their Casino dei Nobili, where they give balls and conversazioni.
Here, women have one, and are the soul of society. In Milan, also, I
see, in the Ambrosian Library, the bust of a female mathematician.