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

But we were very kindly and pleasantly received, and passed an hour agreeably. The rest of the evening we spent at Mrs. Trevelyan's. . . .

January 9.—A course of lectures, to be delivered thrice a week, was begun this morning at the Archaeological Institute. It is to be delivered by Bunsen, on the Topography of Rome; Gerhard, on Painted Vases; and Lepsius, on Egyptian Monuments. The lecture to-day was by Bunsen, on the writers upon the Topography of Rome, merely introductory, but curious and interesting.

January 11.—Some of the principal ladies of Rome are now going from house to house, to ask contributions for making arrangements in relation to the cholera. The Princess Borghese—whose duties lay in our quarter—came yesterday to us, but we were out, and she left a note asking us to send to her palazzo any assistance we are disposed to give. . . . . In the evening I met her at the Austrian Ambassador's, blazing with diamonds such as I have not seen out of Saxony, and little looking as if she had been begging all day, and receiving sums, as she told me, as low as half a paul.¹ This morning I went to carry my little contribution, and was shown by her directly to the breakfast-room, that, as she said, I might see her whole family. It was a cheerful and interesting sight. Beside the beautiful Princess of Sulmona, the fine, striking Viscountess de Mortemart, the three sons, and the son-in-law, there were the chaplain, the tutor, the physician, and one or two other members of a great house, all round a long, highly polished oak table, covered with a substantial dejeuner à la fourchette, served chiefly on silver. They all seemed happy, and were very pleasant; and I could not help contrasting it with the scenes of heartless show I witnessed in the Princess Pauline's days, in the same rooms. It was one of those scenes of the real interieur of a great house that strangers rarely chance upon, and I enjoyed its simplicity, heartiness, and good taste very much. . . . .

In the evening we went to Prince Musignano's,—Charles Bonaparte,—who lives in a beautiful little villa just by the Porta Pia, built by Milizia, the well-known writer on Architecture, and a part of the inheritance from the Princess Pauline to Joseph's children.² I know nothing of the sort in the neighborhood of Rome so pretty and tasteful. But the evening was awkward and dull . . . . . The ladies were all on one side of the room, and the gentlemen in the middle or on the other side.