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tions, is an ideal female head-Heloise, illustrative of Pope's well-known lines :

" Dear, fatal name! rest ever unrevealed
Nor pass these lips in holy silence sealed ;
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise
Where, join'd with God's, his loved idea lies."

Another American sculptor has recently taken up his residence in Florence, whose labors seem destined to reflect great honor upon his country. Hiram Powers is one of those artists whose vocation is ordained by native endowments. Amid the vicissitudes of his early life, the faculty, so strong within him, found but occasional and limited development: yet was it never wholly dormant, Powers derives his principles of art directly from the only legitimate source-Nature. His recent busts are instinct with life and reality. They combine the utmost fidelity in detail with the best -general effect. They abound in expression and truth. His success in this department, has given occasion to so many engagements for busts, that time has scarcely been afforded him for any enterprize of a purely ideal character. He is now about to embody a fine conception from Gesner's Death of Abel. He intends making a statue of Eve at the moment when after her expulsion from Paradise, the sight of a dead bird first revealed to her the nature of death. “It is I! It is I! Unhappy that I am, who have brought misery and grief on every creature! For my sin, these pretty, harmless animals are punished.” Her tears redoubled. " What an event! How stiff and cold it is! It has neither voice nor motion ; its joints no longer bend;

its limbs refuse their office. Speak Adam, is this death ?'

Florence may appear, at a casual view, comparatively deficient in local associations ; yet few cities are more impressed by the facts of their history. It was during the middle ages that it rose to power, and that violent era has left its memorials behind. The architecture is more remarkable for strength than elegance, and its beauty is that of simplicity and dignity. Of this, the Pitti and Strozzi palaces are striking examples. In whatever direction one wanders, memorials of departed ages meet the view, less numerous and imposing than at Rome, but still sufficiently so to awaken the sweet though melavcholy charm of antiquity. Every day, in walking to the Cascine, the stranger passes the house where Amerigo Vespuccio was born; and as he glances at the hospital of Santa Maria Nuova, he remembers that it was founded by the father of Dante's Beatrice. The sight of Galileo's tower, near the Roman gate, recalls that scene of deep, moral and dramatic interest, when the philosopher, having, on his knees, renounced his theory of the earth's motion, before the tribunal of Rome, suddenly sprung to his feet and exclaimed, “E pur si muove !"- and yet it moves.'

The villa of Boccacio, in the environs, awakens the awful associations of the plague as well as the beauty of the Decameron ; and a stroll around the walls, by bringing in view the old fortifications, wlil revive some of the scenes of the celebrated siege of eleven months, in 1530. The heroism exhibited by the Florentines at this period of privation and suffering, ren.

ders it one of the brightest pages of their annals. Many a maiden cast herself from the balcony to escape the brutal soldiery; and one woman who had been forcibly carried away by an officer, stole from the camp at night, collected all his spoils, and mounting his horse, rode back to Florence, with a new dowry for her husband. Let the stranger who would excite the local associations of the Tuscan capital, stroll into the Piazza Grand Duca on a spring morning. Yonder is a crowd of applicants at the grated windows of the post office ; here a line of venders, vociferating the price of their paltry wares; and there a score of porters at work about the custom-house. In the centre is an eloquent quack, mounted upon an open barouche, and surrounded by vials, plasters and surgical instruments, waving a long string of certificates, and loudly expounding the virtues of his specifics to a group of gaping peasants. At the portal of yonder palace, an English equipage is standing, while its master is negotiating with Fenzi, the banker, within. People are passing and re.passing through the spacious area, or chatting in small groups. In the midst is the bronze, equestrian statue of Cosmo, and near it, the fountain exhibiting a colossal figure of Neptune. This remarkable public square is not less striking as a witness of the past than from its present interest. The irregular design of the Palazzo Veccho, is attributed to the public animosities of the period of its erection; and the open space which now constitutes the Piazza, was formed by the destruc. tion of the houses of the Uberti family, and others of the same faction, that the palace of the Priors might not

stand on what was deemed accursed ground. Another scene associated with one of the most tragic events in the history of Florence, is the Duomo-that huge pile so richly encrusted with black and white marble, which was commenced towards the close of the twelfth century. As one, in any degree susceptible to the influence of superstition, wanders, at twilight, through the vast and dusky precincts of this cathedral, vague and startling fancies will often throng upon his mind. As he slowly paces the marble floor towards the main altar, perhaps some mendicant glides from a dark recess, with a low moan of entreaty, or an aged female form, bowed at one of the shrines, is dimly descried in the gloom. The only light streams through the lofty and richly-painted windows. The few busts of the illustrious of by-gone days, are scarcely discernible ; the letters on the sepulchral tablets are blurred in the twilight, and the dustcovered banners, trophies of valor displayed in the Holy Land, hang in shadowy folds. At that pensive hour, in the solitude of so extensive a building, surrounded by the symbols of Death and Religion, how vividly rises to the imagination the sanguinary deed perpetrated before that altar ! The conspiracy of the Pazzi forms the subject of one of Alfieri's tragedies; and a very spirited illustration of one of the scenes was recently exhibited in Florence, the production of a promising young artist. It represents the wife of Francesco kneeling at his feet and endeavoring to prevent his leaving the house at the appointed signal. At the head of the plot was Sixtus IV., whose principal agent, Salviati, concerted with the Pazzi to execute their purpose at a dinner given by Lorenzo de Medici, at Fiesole ; but in consequence of his brother's absence, the scene of action was transferred to the church. On the 26th of April, 1478, the day appointed, it appears the service commenced without the presence of Guliano de Medici. Francesco Pazzi and Bandini went in search of him. They not only accom. panied him in the most friendly manner to the cathedral, but in order to ascertain if he wore concealed weapons, threw their arms caressingly about him as they walked, and took their places by his side, before the altar. When the bell rung—the signal agreed upon, and the priest raised the consecrated wafer, as the people bent their heads before it, Bandini plunged a dagger into the breast of Giuliano. Francesco Pazzi then rushed upon him and stabbed him in many places, with such fury that he wounded himself in the struggle. Lorenzo defended himself successfully against the priest who was to have taken liis life, and received but a slight wound. His friends rallied around him, and they retreated to the sacristy, where one of the young men, thinking the weapon which had injured Lorenzo might have been poisoned, sucked the wound. The conspirators having so completely failed, were soon identified, and the leaders executed, while Lorenzo's escape was hailed with acclamations by the people. On a calm, summer night, as one walks

the deserted and spacious area of the Via Larga, he may watch the moonbeams as they play upon

the beautiful cornice of the Palazzo Ricardi, and recall, as a contrast to the peaceful scene, another bloody deed

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