_Rome, May 27, 1848._--This is my last day at Rome. I have been
passing several days at Subiaco and Tivoli, and return again to the
country to-morrow. These scenes of natural beauty have filled my
heart, and increased, if possible, my desire that the people who have
this rich inheritance may no longer be deprived of its benefits by bad
institutions.
The people of Subiaco are poor, though very industrious, and
cultivating every inch of ground, with even English care and
neatness;--so ignorant and uncultivated, while so finely and strongly
made by Nature. May God grant now, to this people, what they need!
An illumination took place last night, in honor of the "Illustrious
Gioberti." He is received here with great triumph, his carriage
followed with shouts of "_Viva Gioberti, morte ai Jesuiti!_" which
must be pain to the many Jesuits, who, it is said, still linger
here in disguise. His triumphs are shared by Mamiani and Orioli,
self-trumpeted celebrities, self-constituted rulers of the Roman
states,--men of straw, to my mind, whom the fire already kindled will
burn into a handful of ashes.
I sit in my obscure corner, and watch the progress of events. It is
the position that pleases me best, and, I believe, the most favorable
one. Everything confirms me in my radicalism; and, without any desire
to hasten matters, indeed with surprise to see them rush so like a
torrent, I seem to see them all tending to realize my own hopes.
My health and spirits now much restored, I am beginning to set down
some of my impressions. I am going into the mountains, hoping there to
find pure, strengthening air, and tranquillity for so many days as to
allow me to do something.