olks set up their winter quarters in the usual foreigners'
resort round about the Piazza di Spagna. I was amused to find, lately,
looking over the travels of the respectable M. de Poellnitz, that, a
hundred and twenty years ago, the same quarter, the same streets
and palaces, scarce changed from those days, were even then polite
foreigners' resort. Of one or two of the gentlemen Clive had made the
acquaintance in the hunting-field; others he had met during his brief
appearance in the London world. Being a youth of great personal agility,
fitted thereby to the graceful performance of polkas, etc.; having good
manners, and good looks, and good credit with Prince Poloni, or some
other banker, Mr. Newcome was thus made very welcome to the Anglo-Roman
society; and as kindly received in genteel houses, where they drank tea
and danced the galop, as in those dusky taverns and retired lodgings
where his bearded comrades, the painters held their meetings.

Thrown together every day, and night after night; flocking to the
same picture-galleries, statue-galleries, Pincian drives, and church
functions, the English colonists at Rome perforce became intimate, and
in many cases friendly. They have an English library where the various
meets for the week are placarded: on such a day the Vatican galleries
are open: the next is the feast of Saint So-and-so: on Wednesday there
will be music and vespers at the Sistine Chapel--on Thursday, the Pope
will bless the animals--sheep, horses, and what-not: and flocks of
English accordingly rush to witness the benediction of droves of
donkeys. In a word, the ancient city of the Caesars, the august fanes
of the Popes, with their splendour and ceremony, are all mapped out and
arranged for English diversion; and we run in a crowd to high mass at
St. Peter's, or to the illumination on Easter Day, as we run when the
bell rings to the Bosjesmen at Cremorne, or the fireworks at Vauxhall.

Running to see fireworks alone, rushing off to examine Bosjesmen by
one's self, is a dreary work: I should think very few men would have the
courage to do it unattended, and personally would not prefer a pipe in
their own rooms. Hence if Clive went to see all these sights, as he did,
it is to be concluded that he went in company; and if he went in company
and sought it, we may suppose that little affair which annoyed him at
Baden no longer tended to hurt his peace of mind very seriously. The
truth is, our countrymen are p