Towards the last of his life, however, his energies seem to have been concentrated upon sculpture, of which the Perseus is the most celebrated specimen. The account he gives of the difficulties surmounted in casting this statue and the unworhy treatment he received from the Grand Duke, in regard to his recompense, is among the most painful examples of the trials of artists. Cellini's life was one of the most singular vicissitude. Frequently changing his abode, working under the patronage of various princes, of a bold and active temper, his memoirs present a picture in which the quiet pursuits of an artist are grotesquely mingled with the experiences of an adventurer. One day, banished from his native city for having been engaged in a bloody quarrel, another, high in the confidence of kings and popes; now pining in the dungeon of St. Angelo, which he once so gallantly defended, and now rich and honored in the service of a magnificent court. If we are to place the slightest faith in his own testimony, Benvenuto proved himself equal to any exigency, and fairly overcame his various enemies by his prompt courage, or quick invention. He is certainly the prince of boasters. The coolness with which he speaks of despatching his foes, is startling to one familiar only with these peaceful times; and the ingenuity with which he baffles those who are not to be reached by the sword, is most remarkable. A striking instance occurred while he was in the employ of the King of France. Madame D'Estampes, who seems to have been extremely disaffected towards Benvenuto, induced the king to inspect some of his most recent works at an hour the most un

favorable for their display. Cellini, anticipating the effect, affixed a torch to the arm of a statue of Jupiter; and while his female enemy and the monarch were regarding his studies, in the dusky light, he suddenly ignited the torch, and wheeled the Jupiter into the centre of the room. The effect was most vivid, as the light was placed at exactly the right angle to show the figure to the best advantage. Francis received a new and powerful impression of the genius of Cellini, and Madame's design was completely counteracted. The versatility of talent in the character of Benvenuto was not more surprising than his boundless self-confidence. How much are we indebted to this quality for the fruits of genius! Gifts of mind, unaccompanied by a vivid sense of their existence, are of little benefit to the world. Consciousness of power, firm and unwavering, is the best guarantee for its appro priate exertion. How much of the cool decision of great men is attributable to confidence in their destiny! When Napoleon was urged to leave a dangerous position, during an engagement when the shot were flying thickly around him, and calmly replied, the ball is not yet moulded which is destined for me,' who does not recognize one secret cause of his intrepidity? No combination of cir. cumstances seemed adequate to shake Cellini's faith in himself. He spoke as certainly of the issue of an exper. iment in his art, as if it had been repeatedly proved. Again and again he reinstated himself in the favor from which the machinations of his rivals had removed him, by the clear earnestness of his bearing. Whether discussing the merits of a work of art, defending himself before a tri

bunal, engaged hand to hand with a foe, or casting a statue which had cost him years of toil, he seemed to act upon the sentiment of the poet—

ven.

"Courage gone? all's gone

Better never have been born."

It cannot but provoke a smile in contrast with the theories of later moralists, after having followed Benvenuto thruugh an unequalled category of brawls, duels, amours and intrigues, to find him consoling himself in prison by communing with angelic visions, and cheering his heart with the conviction that he is an especial favorite of HeaBenvenuto closed his adventurous life where he commenced it; and was buried with many honors, in the church of the Annunziata, at Florence. His native city is adorned with the chief ornament of his genius; and the exquisite specimens of his skill as a jeweller and engraver, are scattered over the cabinets of virtuosi through. out Italy.

The opera-house of Florence, called the Pergola, is remarkable for its chaste interior. Romani's poetry has recently given a new interest to this favorite amusement. It seems almost to have revived the dulcet numbers of Metastasio, and wedded to the touching strains of Bellini, leaves no occasion to regret the earlier eras of the musical drama. The want of permanent prose companies in the different cities of Italy, as schools of language, is a great desideratum ; and the number of trashy translations from the French, degrade the national taste. Sometimes the excellent company of Turin, including the inimitable

Vestri, a Tuscan by birth, visit Florence in the autumn, and furnish a pleasant pastime at the Cocomero, while during Carnival, Stenterello dispenses his jokes and rhymes at the Borg' Ogni Santi. In Florence, alone, is enjoyed the opportunity, at certain seasons, of witnessing Alfieri's tragedies. The stranger, too, cannot but gratefully recur to the comedies of Goldoni. They furnish him with an admirabie introduction to the language; and when he is once more at home, and would fain renew the associations of every day life in far distant Italy, he has only to peruse one of these colloquial plays, and be transported, at once, to a locanda or a caffé. Goldoni's history is intimately associated with his comedies. Successively a student of medicine, diplomacy and law, a maker of almanacs, and a comic writer, his personal adventures abound in the humorous. He solaced himself, when unfortunate, by observing the passing scene. When jilted by a woman, or cheated by a knave, he revenged himself by showing up their conduct as a warning, in his next play. He looked upon the panorama of human existence, not as a metaphysician, but as a painter, not to discover the ideal, but to display the actual. Yet he often aimed at bringing popular vices or follies into contempt, and frequently with no little success. At a time when ciscesbeism and gambling prevailed in Venice, he portrayed their consequences so graphically, that, a for time, both practices were brought into disrepute; and when the Spectator began to be read, and it became fashionable for women to affect philosophy, he turned the laugh upon them with his Filosofo Inglese. His comedies have

more humor than wit, but their chief attraction is their truth to nature. Although much attached to Venice, his native city, which he declares was never revisited without discovering new beauties, Goldoni seems to have highly enjoyed his long residence at the French court. He boasts of having an excellent appetite after every fresh mortification; and when care or sickness made him wakeful, he was accustomed to translate from the Venetian into the Tuscan dialect, and then into the French, by way of a soporific. Overshadowed as his buoyant spirit was at last, by illness and reverses, his happy temperament made his life pleasant. He had the satisfaction of feeling that, through his efforts, comedy was reformed in Italy, and his country furnished with a stock of standdard plays, of excellent tendency, sixteen of which were composed in one year-no ordinary achievement of industry.

The house of the Buonarotti family has recently undergone extensive repairs. But the rooms once occupied by Michael Angelo, remain unchanged, save that around one of them are arranged a series of paintings, illustrative of the artist's life. How Florence teems with the fame of this most gifted of her children! How rife are his sayings on the lips of her citizens! How eloquently do his works speak in the city where his bones repose! As the Cathedral dome first greets the stranger's eye, or fades from his parting gaze, how naturally does it suggest the thoughts of St. Peter's and the artist's well known exclamation! In a twilight walk along the river-side, as we watch the evening star over San Spirito,