All is quieted now in Rome.  Late at night the Pope had to yield, but not till the door of his palace was half burned, and his confessor killed.  This man, Parma, provoked his fate by firing on the people from a window.  It seems the Pope never gave order to fire; his guard acted from a sudden impulse of their own.  The new ministry chosen are little inclined to accept.  It is almost impossible for any one to act, unless the Pope is stripped of his temporal power, and the hour for that is not yet quite ripe; though they talk more and more of proclaiming the Republic, and even of calling to Rome my friend Mazzini.

If I came home at this moment, I should feel as if forced to leave my own house, my own people, and the hour which I had always longed for.  If I do come in this way, all I can promise is to plague other people as little as possible.  My own plans and desires will be postponed to another world.

Do not feel anxious about me.  Some higher Power leads me through strange, dark, thorny paths, broken at times by glades opening down into prospects of sunny beauty, into which I am not permitted to enter.  If God disposes for us, it is not for nothing.  This I can say:  my heart is in some respects better, it is kinder, and more humble.  Also, my mental acquisitions have certainly been great, however inadequate to my desires.

* * * * *

TO HER BROTHER, K.F.  FULLER.

Rome, January 19, 1849.

MY DEAR RICHARD,—­With my window open, looking out upon St. Peter’s, and the glorious Italian sun pouring in, I was just thinking of you; I was just thinking how I wished you were here, that we might walk forth and talk together under the influence of these magnificent objects.  I was thinking of the proclamation of the Constitutional Assembly here, a measure carried by courageous youth in the face of age, sustained by the prejudices of many years, the ignorance of the people, and all the wealth of the country; yet courageous youth faces not only these, but the most threatening aspect of foreign powers, and dares a future of blood and exile to achieve privileges which are our American common birthright.  I thought of the great interests which may in our country be sustained without obstacle by every able man,—­interests of humanity, interests of God.

I thought of the new prospects of wealth opened to our countrymen by the acquisition of New Mexico and California,—­the vast prospects of our country every way, so that it is itself a vast blessing to be born an American; and I thought how impossible it is that one like you, of so strong and generous a nature, should, if he can but patiently persevere, be defrauded of a rich, manifold, powerful life.

Thursday eve, January 25.