"I'll tell you a story: the other day, a man here--an
English--mistaking the statues of Charlemagne and Constantine,
which are _equestrian_, for those of Peter and Paul, asked another
_which_ was Paul of these same horsemen?--to which the reply
was,--'I thought, sir, that St. Paul had never got on _horseback_
since his _accident_?'

"I'll tell you another: Henry Fox, writing to some one from Naples
the other day, after an illness, adds--'and I am so changed, that
my _oldest creditors_ would hardly know me.'

"I am delighted with Rome--as I would be with a bandbox, that is,
it is a fine thing to see, finer than Greece; but I have not been
here long enough to affect it as a residence, and I must go back to
Lombardy, because I am wretched at being away from Marianna. I have
been riding my saddle-horses every day, and been to Albano, its
Lakes, and to the top of the Alban Mount, and to Frescati, Aricia,
&c. &c. with an &c. &c. &c. about the city, and in the city: for
all which--vide Guide-book. As a whole, ancient and modern, it
beats Greece, Constantinople, every thing--at least that I have
ever seen. But I can't describe, because my first impressions are
always strong and confused, and my memory _selects_ and reduces
them to order, like distance in the landscape, and blends them
better, although they may be less distinct. There must be a sense
or two more than we have, us mortals; for * * * * * where there is
much to be grasped we are always at a loss, and yet feel that we
ought to have a higher and more extended comprehension.

"I have had a letter from Moore, who is in some alarm about his