een as near
to earth as was believed by the schoolmen), or because the journey had
been too much for me. However, an English physician set me up all right
in two or three days (he wanted to sell us pictures which would have
cured any one--of a love of art), and then there began indeed a glorious
scampering and investigating, rooting and rummaging--

"'Mid deathless lairs in solemn Rome."

Galleries and gardens, ruins and palaces, Colosseum and temples, churches
and museums--ye have had many a better informed and many a more inspired
or gifted visitor than I, but whether from your first Sabine days you
ever had a happier one, or one who enjoyed you more with the simple
enjoyment of youth and hope gratified, I doubt. Sometimes among moss-
grown arches on a sunny day, as the verd-antique lizards darted over the
stones from dark to light, while far in the distance tinkled bells,
either from cows or convents, and all was calm and sweet, I have often
wondered if it could indeed be real and not a dream. Life often seemed
to me then to be too good to be true. And there was this at least good
in my Transcendentalism and Poly-Pantheism, that it quite unconsciously
or silently gave me many such hours; for it had sunk so deeply into my
soul, and was so much a real part thereof, that it inspired me when I
never thought of it, in which I differed by a heaven's width from the
professional Yankee Transcendentalists, Presbyterians, Methodists,
AEsthetes, and other spiritualists or sorcerers, who always kept their
blessed belief, as a holy fugleman, full in sight, to give them sacred
straight tips, or as a Star-spangled Bannerman who waved exceedingly,
while my spirit was a shy fairy, who dwelt far down in the depths of the
all too green sea of my soul, where it seemed to me she had ever been, or
ever a storm had raised a wave on the surface. Antiquely verdant green I
was, no doubt. And even to this day the best hours of my life are when I
hear her sweet voice 'mid ivy greens or ruins grey, in wise books, hoar
traditions. Be it where it will, it is _that_, and not the world of men
or books, which gives the charm.

It was usual for all who drew from Torlonia's bank not less than 20
pounds to be invited to his soirees. To ensure the expenses, the footman
who brought the invitation called the day after for not less than _five
francs_. But the entertainment was well worth the money, and more. There
was a good supper--Thackeray