“Why, these around us; there is no other people.”

There are a few beggars, errand-boys, and nurse-maids.

“The others are only soldiers.”

Soldiers!  The Civic Guard! all the decent men in Rome.

Thus it is that the American, on many points, becomes more ignorant for coming abroad, because he attaches some value to his crude impressions and frequent blunders.  It is not thus that any seed-corn can be gathered from foreign gardens.  Without modest scrutiny, patient study, and observation, he spends his money and goes home, with a new coat perhaps, but a mind befooled rather than instructed.  It is necessary to speak the languages of these countries, and know personally some of their inhabitants, in order to form any accurate impressions.

The flight of the Grand Duke of Tuscany followed.  In imitation of his great exemplar, he promised and smiled to the last, deceiving Montanelli, the pure and sincere, at the very moment he was about to enter his carriage, into the belief that he persevered in his assent to the liberal movement.  His position was certainly very difficult, but he might have left it like a gentleman, like a man of honor.  ’T was pity to destroy so lightly the good opinion the Tuscans had of him.  Now Tuscany meditates union with Rome.

Meanwhile, Charles Albert is filled with alarm.  He is indeed betwixt two fires.  Gioberti has published one of his prolix, weak addresses, in which, he says, that in the beginning of every revolution one must fix a limit beyond which he will not go; that, for himself, he has done it,—­others are passing beyond his mark, and he will not go any farther.  Of the want of thought, of insight into historic and all other truths, which distinguishes the “illustrious Gioberti,” this assumption is a specimen.  But it makes no difference; he and his prince must go, sooner or later, if the movement continues, nor is there any prospect of its being stayed unless by foreign intervention.  This the Pope has not yet, it is believed, solicited, but there is little reason to hope he will be spared that crowning disgrace.  He has already consented to the incitement of civil war.  Should an intervention be solicited, all depends on France.  Will she basely forfeit every pledge and every duty, to say nothing of her true interest?  It seems that her President stands doubtful, intending to do what is for his particular interest; but if his interest proves opposed to the republican principle, will France suffer herself again to be hoodwinked and enslaved?  It is impossible to know, she has already shown such devotion to the mere prestige of a name.