Never feel any apprehensions for my safety from such causes.  There are those who will protect me, if necessary, and, besides, I am on the conquering side.  These events have, to me, the deepest interest.  These days are what I always longed for,—­were I only free from private care!  But, when the best and noblest want bread to give to the cause of liberty, I can just not demand that of them; their blood they would give me.

You cannot conceive the enchantment of this place.  So much I suffered here last January and February, I thought myself a little weaned; but, returning, my heart swelled even to tears with the cry of the poet:—­

  “O, Rome, my country, city of the soul!”

Those have not lived who have not seen Rome.  Warned, however, by the last winter, I dared not rent my lodgings for the year.  I hope I am acclimated.  I have been through what is called the grape-cure, much more charming, certainly, than the water-cure.  At present I am very well; but, alas! because I have gone to bed early, and done very little.  I do not know if I can maintain any labor.  As to my life, I think that it is not the will of Heaven it should terminate very soon.  I have had another strange escape.  I had taken passage in the diligence to come to Rome; two rivers were to be passed,—­the Turano and the Tiber,—­but passed by good bridges, and a road excellent when not broken unexpectedly by torrents from the mountains.  The diligence sets out between three and four in the morning, long before light.  The director sent me word that the Marchioness Crispoldi had taken for herself and family a coach extraordinary, which would start two hours later, and that I could have a place in that, if I liked; so I accepted.  The weather had been beautiful, but, on the eve of the day fixed for my departure, the wind rose, and the rain fell in torrents.  I observed that the river which passed my window was much swollen, and rushed with great violence.  In the night, I heard its voice still stronger, and felt glad I had not to set out in the dark.  I rose with twilight, and was expecting my carriage, and wondering at its delay, when I heard, that the great diligence, several miles below, had been seized by a torrent; the horses were up to their necks in water, before any one dreamed of the danger.  The postilion called on all the saints, and threw himself into the water.  The door of the diligence could not be opened, and the passengers forced themselves, one after another, into the cold water,—­dark too.  Had I been there I had fared ill; a pair of strong men were ill after it, though all escaped with life.