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anything so solid and unalterable as was our friendship. He was the most
absolutely good boy I ever knew, but by no means goody-goody; he had
high principles, noble ambitions, strong affections, the sweetest of
tempers; his seriousness formed a healthy foil to my own more impetuous
and hazardous character. "The thoughts of a boy are long, long
thoughts"; and not in many long lifetimes could a tithe of the splendid
projects we resolved upon have been carried out. We were together from
morning till night, month after month; we walked interminably about Rome
and frequented its ruins, and wandered far out over the Campagna and
along the shores of famous Tiber. We picked up precious antique marbles,
coins, and ancient curiosities of all sorts; we hunted for shells and
butterflies and lizards; our hearts were uplifted by the martial music
of the French army bands, which were continually resounding throughout
Rome; and we admired the gleaming swords of the officers and the sharp,
punctual drill and marching of the red-legged rank and file. We haunted
the lovely Villa Borghese, the Pincian Hill, the Villa Pamphili Doria;
we knew every nook and cranny of the Palace of the Csesars, the Baths
of Caracalla, the Roman Forum, the Coliseum, the Egerian Grove; we were
familiar with every gate that entered Rome; we drank at every fountain;
we lingered through the galleries of the Vatican and of the Capitol;
we made St. Peter's Church our refuge in inclement weather; we
threaded every street and by-way of the city; we were on friendly and
confidential terms with the custode of every treasure. And all the time
we talked about what we thought, what we felt, what we would do; there
is no looking backward in boys' confidences; they live in the instant
present and in the infinite future. Eddy and I arranged to spend one
lifetime in Central Africa, in emulation of the exploits of David
Livingstone; there, freed from all civilized burdens, we would live, and
we would run, catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl our lances in
the sun. At another epoch of our endless lives we would enter the army
and distinguish ourselves in heroic war; we would have swords like
sunbeams and ride steeds like Bucephalus. Then, and interleaved with all
this, as it were, there was an immense life of natural history; we would
have a private museum to rival the famous ones of nations. Eddy was
especially drawn towards insects, while my own predilection was still
f