But I am thankful to say the government seems to have strength to Put it down; it has vanished, at least; the place is now peaceful. Through the Trastevere walking last night, at nine of the clock, I Found no sort of disorder; I crossed by the Island-bridges, So by the narrow streets to the Ponte Rotto, and onwards Thence, by the Temple of Vesta, away to the great Coliseum, Which at the full of the moon is an object worthy a visit. VIII.--GEORGINA TREVELLYN TO LOUISA ------. Only think, dearest Louisa, what fearful scenes we have witnessed!-- * * * * * George has just seen Garibaldi, dressed up in a long white cloak, on Horseback, riding by, with his mounted negro behind him: This is a man, you know, who came from America with him, Out of the woods, I suppose, and uses a _lasso_ in fighting, Which is, I don't quite know, but a sort of noose, I imagine; This he throws on the heads of the enemy's men in a battle, Pulls them into his reach, and then most cruelly kills them: Mary does not believe, but we heard it from an Italian. Mary allows she was wrong about Mr. Claude _being selfish_; He was _most_ useful and kind on the terrible thirtieth of April. Do not write here any more; we are starting directly for Florence: We should be off to-morrow, if only Papa could get horses; All have been seized everywhere for the use of this dreadful Mazzini. P.S. Mary has seen thus far.--I am really so angry, Louisa,-- Quite out of patience, my dearest! What can the man be intending? I am quite tired; and Mary, who might bring him to in a moment, Lets him go on as he likes, and neither will help nor dismiss him. IX.--CLAUDE TO EUSTACE. It is most curious to see what a power a few calm words (in Merely a brief proclamation) appear to possess on the people. Order is perfect, and peace; the city is utterly tranquil; And one cannot conceive that this easy and _nonchalant_ crowd, that Flows like a quiet stream through street and market-place, entering Shady recesses and bays of church, _ostería_ and _caffè_, Could in a moment be changed to a flood as of molten lava, Boil into deadly wrath and wild homicidal delusion. Ah, 'tis an excellent race,--and even in old degradation, Under a rule that enforces to flattery, lying, and cheating, E'en under Pope and Priest, a nice and natural people. Oh, could they but be allowed this chance of redemption!--but clearly That is not likely to be. Meantime, notwithstanding all journals, Honor for once to the tongue and the pen of the eloquent writer! Honor to speech! and all honor to thee, thou noble Mazzini! X.--CLAUDE TO EUSTACE. I am in love, meantime, you think; no doubt, you would think so. I am in love, you say; with those letters, of course, you would say so.