charming
little group of _Cupid and Psyche_ forgotten. That kiss! it merits to be
eternised. In _his_ love, what delight! In _hers_, what devotion!

"But above all," said Mildred, "let us do reverence, before we part, to
_Aristides the Just_. How self-contained! Austere--the lover more of
virtue than of man. Full of his grand abstractions, he asks for nothing
even of the gods. Let them do justice! Nay, let them submit to justice
too! Great leveller! Is not virtue so uncompromising as this, very near
to rebellion against the gods and destiny?"

CHAPTER VIII.

The next morning the whole party were packed in their travelling
carriage to start from Rome. Winston had no longer refused that fourth
seat which had been destined for him at Genoa. To say nothing of some
diminution of expense (a very worthy subject of consideration with all
travellers,) it was a great relief to Mr. Bloomfield to have a second
gentleman in their party. It decreased materially his own share of
personal trouble. Besides which, the travelling experience of Winston,
and his more familiar acquaintance with the Italian, rendered him very
acceptable. Mildred had generally acted as interpreter; and so long as
the speaker would answer in the same pure Tuscan in which she addressed
him, she could perform the office admirably well. But unfortunately, the
traveller in Italy has most need for his Italian exactly where any thing
but pure Tuscan is spoken. She could always succeed in making herself
understood; but was often sadly at a loss to understand that answer
which, with all due dexterity, she had elicited.

On they now rattled through the streets of Rome. What rags upon those
beggars! Patches of all colours, red, blue, brown; but worn with such an
air of calm assurance, as if the garment of many colours had been
bestowed on the most favoured son of humanity. They passed the peasant
dame, or damsel, in her gaudy attire, with gold comb and ear-rings
glittering in her jet black hair, and that square folded handkerchief on
her head, which we always associate with the bandit's wife; and amidst
the squalid populace there appeared now and then, quite distinct from
the rest, a form or face of some youth, or maiden, or old man, that
might have issued from the canvass of Raphael. The apostles of the old
masters, at least, are walking still about Rome; and sometimes a Virgin
Mary is seen sitting at the door, and still more often a young John the
Baptist looks u