_Rome, Oct_. 1847.--I arrived in Rome again nearly a fortnight ago,
and all mean things were forgotten in the joy that rushed over me like
a flood. Now I saw the true Rome. I came with no false expectations,
and I came to live in tranquil companionship, not in the restless
impertinence of sight-seeing, so much more painful here than anywhere
else.
I had made a good visit to Vicenza; a truly Italian town, with much to
see and study. But all other places faded away, now that I again saw
St. Peter's, and heard the music of the fountains.
The Italian autumn is not as beautiful as I expected, neither in the
vintage of Tuscany nor here. The country is really sere and brown; but
the weather is fine, and these October feasts are charming. Two days I
have been at the Villa Borghese. There are races, balloons, and, above
all, the private gardens open, and good music on the little lake.