[2219]
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 several days in bed; but his wife took tender care of me, and the quiet of their house and regular simple diet have restored me. As soon as I have seen a few things here, I shall go to Rome.
On my way, I stopped at Parma,—saw the works of Correggio and Parmegiano.
I have now seen what Italy contains most important of the great past; I begin to hope for her also a great future,—the signs have improved so much since I came.
I am most fortunate to be here at this time.
Interrupted, as always.
How happy I should be if my abode at Rome would allow some chance for tranquil and continuous effort.
But I dare not hope much, from the difficulty of making any domestic arrangements that can be relied on. The fruit of the moment is so precious, that I must not complain.
I learn much; but to do anything with what I learn is, under such circumstances, impossible.
Besides, I am in great need of repose; I am almost inert from fatigue of body and spirit.
I cannot even begin to speak of the magnificent scenes of nature, nor the works of art, that
