ith great regret, and hope to return.
I knew there a circle of the aspiring youth, such as I have not in any other city.
I formed many friendships, and learned a great deal.
One of the young men, Guerrieri by name, (and of the famous Gonzaga family,) I really love.
He has a noble soul, the quietest sensibility, and a brilliant and ardent, though not a great, mind.
He is eight-and-twenty.
After studying medicine for the culture, he has taken law as his profession.
His mind and that of Hicks, an artist of our country now here, a little younger, are two that would interest you greatly.
Guerrieri speaks no English; I speak French now as fluently as English, but incorrectly.
To make use of it, I ought to have learned it earlier.
Arriving here, Mr. Mozier, an American, who from a prosperous merchant has turned sculptor, come hither to live, and promises much excellence in his profession, urged me so much to his house, that I came.
At first, I was ill from fatigue, and staid se