RT. 28.] JOURNAL. 195 
Ihave made the acquaintance of an English clergy- 
man of warm piety, who is in ill health, who has been 
obliged to reside for several years in Nice in the 
winter, and at Interlaken in Switzerland in the sum- 
mer, at both of which places he preaches regularly. 
He has traveled in Greece, Turkey, and Asia Minor, 
and passed much time with our missionaries there, of 
whom he speaks in the warmest terms. His name is 
Hartley. We shall go on in company to Rome. 
Rome, Ist May, 1839, Wednesday evening. 
And I am indeed in Rome. This is enough to re- 
pay one for long and tedious journeys and even for 
transient separation from friends, and when I leave 
this place I feel as though my face was set homeward. 
I feel it is something to “w in Rome. 
I distinctly recollect the time as a very small 
boy, in the course of a long ride with a relative, the 
story of Romulus and Remus was first related to me, 
and how it struck my wondering fancy. And I recol- 
lect most perfectly my first lesson in Virgil, and how, 
commencing with “ Arma virumque cano,” I slowly 
worked my way into the mysteries of Latin prosody 
and the story of the Auneid. Little did I think in 
those days that I should ever stand within the “ walls 
of lofty Rome ;” 
“Should tread the Appian 
Or climb the Palatine, and stand within those very walls 
Where Virgil read aloud his tale divine.”’ 
My enthusiasm has risen by degrees, for I arrived 
here this morning, after a delay at that most wretched 
of ‘all places, Civita Vecchia, where an Austrian sol- 
dier, stationed there, told us he was sent as to a kin 
of earthly purgatory to do penance for his sins; after 
