painted with a mitre upon his head, an
ornament proper to Women. He never had other Priests but Satyrs
and Women; because the latter had followed him in great Companies
in his Journeys, crying, singing, and dancing continually. Titus
Livius relates a strange story of the Festivals of Bacchus in
Rome. Three times in a year, the Women of all qualities met in a
Grove called Simila, and there acted all sorts of Villainies;
those that appeared most reserved were sacrificed to Bacchus; and
that the cries of the ravished Creatures might not be heard, they
did howl, sing, and run up and down with lighted Torches.'

The May and October Festivals in Rome, at present, are substituted for
the Bacchanalian orgies, and are, of course, not so objectionable, in
many particulars, as the ancient ceremonies; still, no stranger in Rome,
at these times, should neglect to attend them. Caper entered Rome at
night, during the October festival, and the carriage-loads of Roman
women, waving torches and singing tipsily, forcibly reminded him that
the Bacchante still lived, and only needed a very little encouragement
to revive their ancient rites in full.

Sentimental travelers tell you that the Romans are a temperate
people--they have never seen the people. They have never seen the
delight that reigns in the heart of the _plebs_, when they learn that
the vintage has been good, and that good wine will be sold in Rome for
three or four cents _la foglietta_, (about a pint, American measure.)
They have never visited the _spacii di vini_, the wine-shops; they have
never heard of the murders committed when the wine was in and the wit
out. None of these things ever appear in the _Giornale di Roma_ or in
the _Vero Amico del_ _Popolo_, the only newspapers published in Rome.

'Roman newspapers,' said an intelligent Roman to Caper, 'were invented
to conceal the news.'

The first thing that a foreigner does on entering Rome is to originate a
derogatory name for the juice of the grape native to the soil, the _vino
nostrale_. He calls it, if red wine, red ink, pink cider, red tea; if
white wine, balm of gooseberries, blood of turnips, apple-juice,
alum-water, and slops for babes; finally ... if not killed off with a
fever, from drinking the adulterated foreign wines, spirits, and
liqueurs sold in the city, he takes kindly to the Roman wines, and does
not worry his great soul about them.

The truth is, that while other