I shall never see you again." After this he lay in a torpor for many hours, but in the afternoon he revived a little, and Dr. Morichini at length succeeded in persuading him to take a little broth and a glass of champagne. The reading to him seems to afford him much pleasure, and I have often read to him till midnight; George always sits up with him, and, when anything occurs, immediately calls me. Since the 24th he has gradually got better, and on the 25th he recovered his voice, and was not quite so desponding as before, and the three following days found him still better, but now and then delirious, from the quantity of acetate of morphine which he has taken and still takes. _29th-1st April._ Sir Humphry has been gradually recovering, and has now considerably regained the power over his limbs, and is often able to be upon the sofa the greater part of the day. It seems impossible for him to exist without being read to, and on one day I read Shakspeare to him for _nine_ hours. On the 15th of March Dr. Davy arrived from Malta, and Lady Davy from London on the 30th, she having travelled day and night. Their arrival relieved me from much anxiety. When Sir Humphry is able to bear travelling we shall leave Rome, and proceed to Geneva by way of Florence and Genoa, and at the latter city Dr. Davy will probably quit us to return to Malta. Sir Humphry has latterly found himself so much better, that he often takes a drive for an hour or two. _20th._ This being Easter Monday, Sir Humphry determined to drive out and see the grand illumination of St. Peter's, which takes place annually on this evening. It was indeed one of the grandest sights imaginable, and we were remarkably fortunate in seeing it this year, when it was said to be more magnificent than usual, in honour of the newly elected pope. Between six and seven o'clock in the evening, thousands and thousands crowd over the Ponte St. Angelo to gain a place in the grand Piazza of St. Peter's. Only the carriages belonging to the cardinals and foreign ambassadors are allowed to pass over that bridge on this evening, all others being obliged to make a considerable detour. At seven o'clock the Piazza is crowded with all sorts of carriages, and upwards of an hundred thousand people. This front of the church, the cupola, and two smaller domes, are seen illuminated with innumerable small paper lanterns, fixed at regular distances. This lasts till nearly eight, and in the meanwhile the mass of the people in the Piazza are loud in their expression of joy and expectation, but as the hour of eight approaches all becomes still and hushed, and only a half-breathed solitary _adess', adesso_, is now and then heard. With the first stroke of the clock, the great bell of St. Peter's sounds _one_. All eyes turn instantly to the cross on the top of the cupola, from out of which a magnificent column of flame is seen suddenly to burst. A _second_ stroke upon the great bell, and the fire is seen