harnessed with ropes, old leather, and the like.’
on the last day of September, after a week's visit, he arrived, Oct. 2, without breaking the journey, at Milan
, where his Italian
Three days later, he took a seat in the malle-poste
to cross the Alps
by the Stelvio Pass for Innsbruck
Such, in brief, was his route at a period when as yet there was no railway in Italy
His journey, as originally planned, included a visit to Greece
, and he was provided with letters of introduction by Dr. Samuel G. Howe
, which would have brought him at once into relations with the surviving leaders of the Greek Revolution
; but he had lingered too long in Rome
to allow him to extend his journey further east.
Afterwards he much regretted this failure in his plan, though he felt his precious days in Rome
had been only too few.
During his three months in Rome
was a devoted student.
He determined not only to learn the language of the country, but to come into full communion with the thought and spirit of its literature.
He kept aloof from society, and even his visits to galleries and ruins were made mostly in hours of needful recreation.
Rising at half-past 6 o'clock in the morning, and breakfasting some hours later in his room, he was devoted to his books till five or six in the afternoon, when he sallied out for dinner or a walk.
With such devotion, his progress even exceeded his expectations.
He read not only Dante
, Macchiavelli, Guicciardini, Alfieri
, and Niccolini
, but several minor authors, whose neglected works are explored only by the most assiduous students of Italian literature.
Most of all he enjoyed the great work of an author then living,—the ‘Promessi Sposi’ of Manzoni
wrote to him, Nov. 29: ‘You have made an admirable use of your opportunities in Italy
Nobody has ever done more so. The list of books which you have read absolutely startles me. I do not understand how you could have found time for any thing else.’
found at Rome
, in the Consul
of the United States
, a scholar of kindred tastes, with whom he established a perpetual friendship.
Some will remember that when, in his later years, he was to speak at Faneuil Hall, he brought with him to the platform a slightly built man of fine texture, scholarly mien, and imperfect sight, for whom he cared with singular delicacy.