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ture some observations respecting him, which in his view, were not quite orthodox, drew me aside, and with the utmost solemnity, assured me it was very sacrilegious to speak so confidently of one who had been commissioned by Heaven to consolidate Europe, to destroy the ty• rants of Italy, and unite in a happy and prosperous whole her divided and oppressed states-objects, he added, which would have been admirably accomplished, if Satan had not tempted Buonaparte into Russia. A Genoese captain, who had made several voyages to the East, told me that his ship touched at St. Helena, the very day Napoleon died. He was surprised not to hear the usual gun, and after waiting several hours without receiving the cus. tomary visit of inspection, went on shore, and when on returning, he communicated the tidings, every sailor wept! In Romagna, I travelled several days, in the wake of a voiture containing a remarkably agreeable party; and we invariably dined together on the road. During the evening, there was always considerable pleasant conversation, but one old gentleman, who was exceedingly affable to every one else, treated me with the most marked reserve. I puzzled myself, in vain, to account for his conduct, when on the last evening we were together, he happened to become engaged in a controversy with one of the company in regard to some law or custom of England. After a warm discussion, he appealed to me in support of his assertions. I was obliged to confess my utter ignorance of the matter. He regarded me with the utmost surprise, and observed that he could not understand how an Englishman could be unacquainted with the subject.

I assured him I had no claims to the title. He seemed very incredulous and begged to know of what country I was.

The mention of America, seemed to awaken as lively emotions in his heart as in that of orator Phillips. His expression wholly changed. Throwing back his cloak and deliberately rising from his chair, he approached me with an air of the greatest earnestness: “Sir,” he exclaimed, “ forgive me. I have taken

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for an Englishınan, and have never been able to endure one of that nation, since its dastardly conduct towards Napoleon, under whom I served many years. An American ! ah ! that is

very different. In my garden at Parma, I have placed two busts, which I daily contemplate with perfect admiration,–Michael Angelo, and George Washington ;" so saying, he embraced me most cordially, and during the remainder of our journey, atoned for his previous silence, by the most devoted courtesy.

At about noon we reached Massa. This is one of the most picturesque of the minor Italian towns.

It is nearly surrounded with high mountains, covered thickly with olive-trees. Below lies a pretty vale whose wild fertility is increased by a swift stream coursing through it. On the hill above is an old fortress, and on the shelves of the mountain a cluster of houses. An inscription garlanded with weeds, on the gates, indicates its Roman origin. The principal street is completely grass-grown, and as I wandered there at noon-tide, looking up at the immense government-house, so out of proportion to the town, the echo of my footsteps was startling, and no human being appeared, except here and there, an ancient figure whose white

locks, and worn visage harmonized perfectly with the antique and deserted aspect of every thing around. Yet nature smiles benignantly upon this secluded spot. Several rich little gardens and many clusters of orange trees, which here bloom all the year, gave evidence of the peculiar mildness of the air. Completely sheltered by the hills, admirably exposed to the sun, and visited by the breeze from the Mediterranean, of which it commands a beautiful view, one can scarcely imagine a more genial retirement or a scene better adapted for romance, especially as the inn-keeper's daughters have long been just. ly celebrated for their beauty. The possession of Massa was often warmly contested by the Pisans, Lucchese, Florentines, Genoese, and innumerable princes and bishops. Its castle has been repeatedly besieged. At the present day, quietude and age brood with something of sanctity over the picturesque town; and it reposes in the midst of beauty so serene, that, on a fine summer day, the heart of the returning traveller is beguiled by an unwonted spell, to linger and muse there over his past enjoyments or future prospects, in view of that element which is soon to bear him, perhaps forever, from the time-hallowed and tranquil precincts of the old world.

Carrara, which place we reached early in the afternoon, is also begirt and overshadowed by the Appenine. Some of the peaks seemed as bleak and snow-clad as many of the Swiss mountains. In the heavy sides are embedded the apparently inexhaustible quarries of celebrated marble, generally lying in alternate masses of black and white. It is astonishing to observe how little the in

ventions of modern science have as yet been applied to the working of these quarries. Serious accidents are of frequent occurrence from the fall of rocks, and the road down which they are transported is choked up and rugged in the extreme. The loss of time and damage to the material in consequence, may be easily imagined. The people of Carrara live by their labors, variously directed, in quarrying, sawing and removing the marble, and there are many studios in the town where the rough work of the sculptor is performed, and copies of celebrated statues executed for sale. As I descended from the quarries, and looked around upon the scattered fragments of marble, there was something most interesting and impressive in the thought that from this spot have proceeded the material of those countless creations of the chisel now scattered over the globe. How triumphant is the activity of the human mind! how productive the energies of art! From the rocky sides of these rugged hills, what shapes of beauty and grace have arisen !—the forms of heroes and

sages centuries since blended with the dust, the faces of the loved whose mortal lineaments will be seen no more, and creatures of imaginative birth radiant with more than human loveliness. Donatello, Michael Angelo, Canova, Thorwaldsen, Bartolini, and innumerable other gifted names rush upon the heart and associate the mountains of Carrara with noble and lovely forms. We

gaze with reverence upon a spot which fancy peoples with an unborn generation of the children of genius. A halo of glory environs the hill-sides whence have gone forth so many enduring symbols of the beautiful and the grand.

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On reaching Sarzana, at night, it was rather difficult to realize upon refering to the signatures on my passpcit, that during the day's ride of less than forty miles, I had passed through the territories of five Dukes--a striking evidence of the divided state of Italy. At dawn, the following day, we crossed the Maga in a broad, flat ferryboat, and as the grey light fell upon a time-tinted village

an adjacent hill, the scene would have furnished a pretty subject for a landscape, including the dingy stream and motley cargo of quaintly-attired travellers, weather. worn peasants and white cattle. On landing, a carriage passed us under the escort of four gen d'armes on horse. back, conducting an unfortunate party to the frontiers, who had been discovered travelling without a passport. The scenery grew more rich and variegated until in descending a hill, we came at once in view of the beautiful gulf of Spezia. Upon its finely-cultivated borders, are several low, massive and ancient forts. Not far from the shore a spring of fresh water gushes up through the sea. In : the midst of the calm, blue bay, several fishing vessels lay at anchor, distinctly reflected on the water. Along the beach were sauntering dark-visaged men with long red caps, and many sunburnt and savage-looking women, with curious little straw hats, placed coquettishly upon the side of their heads. Everywhere is the sea sublime, its breezes invigorating, its music plaintive; but when it flows thus clear and broad to the shores of a southern land, there is an unspeakable charm in its presence. The waves seem to roll with conscious joy to the warm strand, and throw up a shower of sparkling tears as they retreat, and

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