George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor
George Hillard, Ed.

December 14.—I passed a couple of hours this forenoon at Mr. Bunsen's. He lives very agreeably, but not showily, in the Caffarelli Palace, which stands on one of the summits of the ancient Capitol, and has, on two sides, the Tarpeian Rock for the limits of its gardens and territories. In his neighborhood he has erected one building for the Archaeological Academy, which has existed at Rome, through his means, since 1829; and another building for the sick Protestants, who are not received into the hospitals of the city, and whom he formerly used to have treated in a wing of his own palace; while, within the palace itself, he has made arrangements for Protestant worship in German, French, and Italian.

Besides all this, he is the most active person in whatever of literary enterprise there is in Rome, and a truly learned man in the wide German sense of the word. I went with him this morning over his academy and hospital, and received a sort of regular learned lecture from him on whatever can be seen from the windows of his palace, or from the roof of his hospital, which comprehends a view of all the seven hills, and nearly the whole neighborhood of the city. It was very interesting, the more so from the place where it was given; and the explanations of the Tarpeian Rock, and some portions of the Capitol itself, were extremely curious and satisfactory. . . .

December 15.—We gave the whole morning to the Museum of the Vatican; and, after all, it seems as if we had hardly made an impression on this wilderness of statues, to say nothing of the bas-reliefs and inscriptions. One of the difficulties in the case is, that when you get into the hall of the Muses, or the cabinet of the Laocoon and Apollo, you remain, and forget the multitude of other things that are worth seeing.

In the evening there was a great concert given by the Duchess Torlonia, who, since her husband's death, is the head of the banking-house. . . . She gave her fete to-night in a vast palace she owns near St. Peter's. As we drove to it we found ourselves already within its reach, as it were, when we had arrived at the Bridge of St. Angelo; for the bridge itself was lighted with torches on both sides, and horse-guards were stationed in the middle,—a show which we had all the way through the Trastevere. . . . . . Meeting the Prince Borghese in one of the rooms, I sat down and had a very agreeable talk with him and the Russian Charge d'affaires. . . . . We came out very early, and drove through the darkling streets on this side of the Tiber to the Capitol hill, where we passed a very sensible and agreeable hour, with a small party, at Mrs. Bunsen's. . . . .