repetition of the barbaric syllables by mild
official, and reproduction in a totally different
shape—the horrid agitation as he shuffles his pack
of cards—his doubts—his artful pauses, his
hesitation over this name, which reads faintly like the
barbaric syllables—his final disastrous shake of
his head which tells that all is over,—all these
make up a most pleasing entertainment. It has
the zest of unflagging novelty, and an Eternal
flavour. There is no reasonable ground why
I should look for despatches as every morning
comes round, or that the established course of
mails should be done violence to; but still every
succeeding morning finds me at the pigeon-hole,
watching the drawing in the letter lottery. Here,
too, through another pigeon-hole, does a gentleman
hand me out those little airy stamps labelled
"Franco Bollo Postale!" which flourish the
tiara and cross keys so magnificently. The
postage to England being exactly twenty-two
halfpennies, it becomes a matter of much nicety
to find accommodation (without prejudice to
the direction) for all the parti-coloured insignia
which are presented to me; and having found
sittings for two yellow emblems, at three
halfpennies each, in the centre under the direction,
and for two pink at five halfpennies each, in the
extreme right-hand corner, and for two green at
one halfpenny each in left central corner, I am
seriously put to it, for accommodation for two
more halfpennies as yet undisposed of. They
come in, however, at a vacant corner; and the
effect of the whole, taken as a specimen of amateur
bill-sticking, is decidedly pleasing. I gather,
too, little traits of national manners highly
instructive. One wet morning, when the rain is
pattering down, a vehicle drives up, and an
excited English gentleman, springing from it
hastily, misses his footing on the slippery pavement
and recovers himself with difficulty.
Unconsciously he has jostled two Romans, and the
shock has hurled one with violence to the earth;
he falls prone, and bites—not the dust, but mud
and liquid puddle. The Roman rises, fearfully
bemudded, but seems cowed and scared; and
takes this scurvy treatment, unatoned for by
regret or apology, with no other protest than
a scowl.

Breakfast? Ah, surely! and the strain of
business being now off the mind, it may reasonably
relax. In this matter we are pure gipsies,
highly irregular, and vagabondise disreputably
from caffè to caffè. To-day I enter the Caffè
Nuovo, or New Coffee House: so called from
its being the oldest, dingiest, and saddest
tabernacle in the city. It is a Corso palace, of
forty long windows, retired from business,
broken down utterly, and forced by hard times
to turn itself to these baser uses. It is positively
gaol-like with its black front and cell
windows; and as I sit in its long chilly hall, with
the dull frescoes overhead faded out of all shape
and colour, and the cracked marble pavement
under the feet; and as I note the dust and cobwebs,
and the dirt an inch thick, and the general
vault-like flavour of the place, I feel myself growing
damp and mouldy too. When I deem myself
too cheerful, perhaps verging on the boisterous, I
enter the Caffè Newgate, sit awhile thoughtfully,
and issue forth again, correctly toned down to a
happy cheerlessness. I am grateful that there
is such an establishment in the city.

For a house in brilliant Spanish Place, I have
a warm sympathy, reaching almost to affection,
on the score of a chocolate of such rich
consistence that I distinctly recal my apostle's
spoon standing up in it stiff and straight. But
I must confess it is the Greek coffee-house that
I principally affect, chiefly on account of the
delightful eccentricity of manners which there
prevails. All the bearded pards of an Eternal
City flock hither. There, though room is scant
and fittings are barren, I see every Eternal artist
—sculptor, painter, actor, and singer—German,
French, and English—crowd in for his first
meal. The study of this odd company, their
ways, their dress, their gutturals, and general
queernesses, are worth a " wilderness of monkeys."
The aboriginal primitiveness of the
place is comforting; and I love to see the
Greek proprietor at his counter and furnaces,
compounding the drinks. The orders are sung aloud
in plain chant. As I enter, the waiter heralds
my coming from afar off, intoning loudly, " Caffè
latte! caffè latte!" for my features, and the
beverage I habitually infuse, are grown familiar to
him. Thereupon the Greek at counter begins
compounding, with a deftness and mystery l am
never weary of admiring. He takes a tumbler,
and with one motion half fills it with sugar,
and with another fits into it a broad funnel.
A kind of devil comes rushing in from the
furnace—all hot and fiery—with milk and
coffee—all hot and fiery also—and those two
elements are poured in, bubbling, through the
funnel. Ready now, waiter, with that tiny
tray, which you shall crowd artfully with
the components of the banquet: steaming
tumbler in corner; two little twisted rolls,
one of sour, one of sweet bread, to suit the
palate; a pat of rich butter from the Borghese
farms; three pasticcie, or chocolate cakes,
very toothsome as a finish; a miniature napkin,
spotless as, and no bigger than an infant's bib,—
for all these dainties is accommodation found on
the miniature tray. When reckoning comes, the
attendant spirit begins plain chant again, singing
aloud, arithmetically, and checking off on
his fingers, "Caffè latte!" (first finger), "colla
pane!" (second), "e burra!" (third), "e tre
pasticcie!" (fourth). Some spendthrifts of the
place occasionally add a farthing; for " service,"
but such liberality is considered, on the whole,
in bad taste. I, who magnificently lay down
the humble remuneration of two baiocchi, am
plainly considered to be demoralising the attendance,
and introducing ruinous tastes.

After this meal, the world is all before us.
The old rusted lions that have been roaring in
their own soft touching fashion for centuries
back; the churches, temples, pillars, statues,
pictures of the great art menagerie, are wooing
irresistibly. Privy council is convoked in the
scarlet chamber, claims are submitted, urged,