From Rome! – You, who suppose I date with so much pride from Venice, will, I imagine, think me more proud to be able to write from Rome. But happy those who, like you, my dear friend, date always from Auteuil and from Pantin. You cannot conceive to what a degree one loves one's own country when separated from it far, as I am at present from mine. I meet no Frenchman who does not appear amiable to me. I saw two at Venice, whose company was become necessary to me, and who probably would have tired me at Paris. In short, every thing that recalls France to my mind, is truly interesting to me. But let us return to Rome, since I came thither last night. You may well believe my first care was to send to the daughter of the Dutchess de C—, that Countess de Belmire, whom I so much wished to be acquainted with. Prepared by her mother, she came to me, with her husband, that very evening; and I found in her all the politeness, all the graces, of the Dutchess. She is as like her too as you can desire, though not so regular a beauty. I am sorry to tell you, the Count de Belmire seems to love her in such a manner, as to make one fear the remembrance of Albenga is not always uppermost in his thoughts. However, he has a melancholy air; and when the Dutchess is mentioned, he sighs and is thoughtful. But I was so very much fatigued, that I could not observe and examine him with all the attention necessary to give you a very exact account of him. But I shall dine with him today, and in my first letter will fully satisfy your curiosity. – It is true, the journey from Venice to Rome, by Bologna and Loretto, is very fatiguing.