I look forward to the day when 'liberty, equality, and fraternity' shall be inscribed in letters of flame, in the most expensive Bengal lights if you please, over the _porte cochere_ of every palace in Rome, not to mention the churches.

I look forward to that day, but I have not the slightest expectation of ever seeing it.

Moreover, if it ever comes, I will pack up my palette and brushes and go somewhere else by the nearest route." "Good heavens, Gouache!" exclaimed Donna Tullia; "how can you talk like that?
It is really dreadfully irreverent to jest about our most sacred convictions, or to say that we desire to see those words written over the doors of our churches!" "I am not jesting.

I worship Victor Hugo.

I love to dream of the universal republic--it has immense artistic attractions--the fierce yelling crowd, the savage faces, the red caps, the terrible maenad women urging the brawny ruffians on to shed more blood, the lurid light of burning churches, the pale and trembling victims dragged beneath the poised knife,--ah, it is superb, it has stupendous artistic capabilities! But for myself--bah! I am a good Catholic--I wish nobody any harm, for life is very gay after all." At this remarkable exposition of Anastase Gouache's views in regard to the utility of revolutions, Del Ferice laughed loudly; but Anastase remained perfectly grave, for he was perfectly sincere.