JOURNAL, &c. &c. (continued 3)

13th. We left Adelsberg this morning, and after a drive of about three hours through a wild and hilly country, we arrived at the village of Zirknitz, on the borders of the celebrated Zirknitzer-See. The inn, though small, had two decent rooms, and Sir Humphry determined to remain here for a day or two, in order to shoot quails, which abound in the neighbourhood; he accordingly went out in the afternoon with his gun, accompanied by the innkeeper, who had recommended himself to him by speaking Italian; and I went in the meantime to look at the lake. Its banks are formed by mountains of no great height, completely covered with forests of pine, and in the lake are three islands, each of which has a different name. On the largest, called Vomek, is a little village; the other two, Goritza and Malagoritza, are smaller and barren. The lake itself is of an oblong form, and, as I ascertained from "The Chronicle of Carniola," (a voluminous and old work on the history and geography of this part of Austria, by Baron Valvasor, and the only book to be found in the inn,) about one German mile (four and three quarters English) in length, and rather more than half a one in breadth. Its depth varies, but it is no where considerable. In different parts of it are large and deep conical holes, Valvasor says eighteen, each of which has also a name: the chief of them are Koten, Zeschenza, Malabonarza, Velkioberk, &c., and through these holes the lake is filled with water. This generally takes place annually, in October or November, and the water again disappears through these holes in the beginning of summer.

In twenty days after the disappearance of the water, grass springs up, and produces very good hay; numbers of birds flock to the fields, and the bed of the lake then becomes a sporting ground. The disappearance of the waters, however, is by no means certain, for sometimes a whole year will elapse without the lake becoming dry, while at times it will sink and re-appear twice, or even thrice, in one year. At the end of the lake, near Zirknitz, are two large openings in a rock called Malakarlouza and Valkakarlouza, through which the water runs off when the lake rises higher than usual. During the winter the lake is generally frozen over. The temperature and colour of its water are similar to that of the other lakes in this part of the country, though the fish which inhabit it, chiefly pike, are said to be unwholesome. By what means and from whence this lake is filled, it is very difficult to say; the most probable conjecture is that it is supplied by some vast reservoir of water in the interior of the earth, which may also be the feeder of the many subterraneous rivers with which the surrounding country abounds. Not a single stream flows out of the lake, but six or seven small rivulets fall into it, the largest of which is the Zirknitzbach. In the evening Sir Humphry returned from his sport, bringing with him some quails and a few snipes.

14th. Sir Humphry again went out shooting in the morning, and I went to see the caves of St. Kanzian, with a lad, who spoke a little German, as a guide. These caves are situated about four miles from Zirknitz, and are merely large and deep natural caverns, through which a small river runs, which again appears about half a mile further, in a beautiful fertile valley, through which it flows for a short distance, when it passes under a natural bridge of rock, on the other side of which it disappears, and does not again rise till near Adelsberg. Although it has here no particular name, it is probably the same as the Laibach river, and may take its rise from the lake of Zirknitz. The natural bridge under which it flows before its disappearance, is a fine arch of rock, from thirty to forty feet in height, covered with trees on the top, between which are seen the remains of an old church, dedicated to St. Kanzian.

15th. Sir Humphry's sport yesterday not having proved so good as he expected, he went to-day, on his pony, up to the mountains with the innkeeper, to see if he could not shoot a Steinhuhn, or alpine partridge, and I went with my guide of yesterday to see the grotto of Heiligen-kreutz, where, he told me, a little white fish with four feet and two red fins on its neck, had been lately found. From this description I knew it to be the proteus, the inhabitant of the Magdelena grotto at Adelsberg; and the hope of finding this animal in the caves at the other end of the lake of Zirknitz, induced me to go thither. We coasted round the lake, passing through many little hamlets on its banks, till we arrived at the end of it, when we turned up a side valley, which brought us to the foot of the mountain of Heiligen-kreutz. We here found two small huts, in one of which was an old man, who agreed to be our guide to the grotto, and who furnished us with large pieces of fir-wood for torches. After an ascent of half an hour up the mountain, we came to a great hole, which was the entrance of the cavern. Here the guide put a bit of ignited fungus or tinder into a handful of dry moss, and whirling it round with rapidity, soon produced a flame, at which we lighted our torches. We then scrambled down into the hole, and entered a long and lofty passage, the floor of which was covered with great stones and masses of rock, over which it was with great difficulty that we could proceed, and the roof and sides presented nothing but dark and rugged rock, unadorned by stalactites. After advancing for some hundred yards through this passage, we came to a running stream of water of considerable breadth, but only six or eight inches deep. We walked through this for some time, till it fell with a deafening noise into a large hole on one side of the cave, probably into some deep cavern below. The passage then turned to the left, and conducted us into a small round vault, from the roof and sides of which hung a considerable number of stalactites. This the old man said was the end of the cavern, and finding it so, I felt there was nothing to recompense one for the fatigue of a walk of ten miles, and the scramble over the rocks in the passage. During our course through the stream, as well as in the many large holes filled with water, I had in vain looked for the proteus, which however the old man assured me had been found by the peasants in the stream during its course through the cavern, and that it had also been cast up by it, when swelled by rain, near Laas, a small town about five miles distant, where this subterraneous stream again appears upon the surface. Quitting the cavern, I returned to Zirknitz, which I reached late in the afternoon, with a very good appetite, for all that we had partaken of since an early breakfast, was a few smoked pears and a pint of wine, sourer than the sourest vinegar, which, with a bit of black bread, were the only eatables afforded by one of the village inns of the banks of the lake of Zirknitz. Sir Humphry had returned from his pursuit of the mountain partridge, nearly as fatigued and dissatisfied with his ill-success as I was with mine, and he determined upon returning to Laibach to-morrow.

16th-30th. Quitting Zirknitz, and driving through Planina and Ober-Laibach, we returned to Laibach, where we remained in our old quarters till the 30th. Sir Humphry, as usual, occupying the day in shooting or fishing, and now and then in completing his experiments on the torpedo, by comparing the results of the electricity of this fish with the effects produced by a very small voltaic pile. He found them to be essentially different in their action, and summed up the whole series of his experiments and observations in a long letter to the Royal Society.[G] He has at last met with a pair of carriage horses that please him, and has bought them for four hundred florins (40l.), so that he now intends travelling with his own four horses. The weather has been getting colder and colder, but I think that nothing less than the sight of the snow that fell to-day (30th) would have determined his departure, which is now fixed for to-morrow, when we start for Italy and Rome.

31st. We have at last quitted Laibach, and I never recollect having left any place, not even the most wretched village, with the joy and delight I experienced on quitting Detella's inn, which has so long been for me an abode of listlessness and ennui. We slept this night at Planina, in the same bad inn which we stopped at on our trip to Trieste.

November 1st. We set out this morning from Planina, and drove over the road we had formerly passed to Wippach. The roads as far as this town were very hard and slippery, the snow which had fallen having frozen during the night, but as soon as we passed the mountains between Adelsberg and Wippach the scene was changed; we had left the winter and wintry country behind us, and found ourselves in a valley, where the trees were still adorned with the fine tints of autumn, and where the temperature was delightful. Leaving Wippach, we entered the province of Friuli, and drove on along a fine high road to Gorizia or Görz, where we did not arrive till late in the evening. The country is fine; it appears to be well cultivated, and the vines hang in festoons from tree to tree. At Gorizia, Italian is the only language spoken, and with the language the people seemed also to have changed, for instead of the slow, awkward, and often insolent German servants, we had here quick and intelligent attendants.

2nd. Leaving Gorizia, in which town there is very little interesting, at one o'clock, we crossed the Isonzo, a beautifully clear and broad river. The roads were excellent, and before us and on our right we had the magnificent chain of the Julian Alps, still free from snow. Palmanova, where we spent the night, is a strong fortress, but a miserable little town with a corresponding inn.

3rd. The road from Palmanova to Codroipo lies through a flat country, chiefly vineyards, and is lined on each side with mulberry trees. Between Codroipo and Pordenone, we passed over a magnificent wooden bridge across the Tagliamento, the bed of which is here nearly a mile in breadth, and shows what a broad and wild river it must be when swollen by the melting of the snows. Upon asking a man on the road the distance to the next town, he only answered us by holding up his five fingers, as much as to say five miles; a quick mode of expression which a German peasant would never have arrived at. The dress of the peasants was as much changed as the climate; instead of the black leather breeches, huge boots, and sheepskin jacket of the Krainish boor, we here saw striped cotton trowsers, a white cloth or flannel jacket, and shoes and stockings. We to-day, for the first time, saw many donkeys on the road, and little one-horse carriages, with one person sitting in them and the driver standing behind. Pordenone is a small town, with a fine view of the Friuli Alps in the distance.

4th. We quitted Pordenone and the Frioul, and dined at Cornegliano, a small old town in the province of Venice, and on quitting it we caught a glimpse of the Alps in the distance, and after a long drive through flat and low lands, arrived in the evening at Treviso. An ancient Roman gateway of beautiful architecture forms the entrance to this town, the streets of which however are narrow and dirty. The Albergo Reale is a very good inn.

5th. We quitted Treviso early this morning for Padua, with the Ugonian or Paduan hills in front of us. About two miles out of the town, looking across the marshes, we saw Venice with all her towers rising, as it were, out of them. We were only about five miles from this, the second most interesting city of Italy, nor could I help expressing a wish to see it. Sir Humphry, however, said that he was determined never again to enter it, for he had, upon a former journey, been detained there upwards of an hour about his passport. A little beyond Mestre, a dirty and ruinous town, where passengers generally embark for Venice, we came to the Brenta, and drove along its banks to Dolo, a small village, where we dined. The road is lined with fine, but mostly ruinous villas, in the light Italian style of architecture, and between Dolo and Padua we passed by a magnificent palace belonging to the Viceroy of Milan. We did not arrive at Padua till it was nearly dark, and entered the town by an old Roman gateway, similar to that at Treviso. The streets through which we passed were narrow and dirty, but furnished on both sides with arcades for foot passengers.

6th. We left Padua at eight o'clock this morning, passing through the Piazza San Antonio, a fine open square ornamented with statues, and at one end of which is the cathedral church of St. Antonio, said to be one of the churches containing the greatest number of votive altars in Italy.

The country between Padua and Monselice, an insignificant little town where we stopped to bait, is pretty. Crossing the Adige by a flying bridge, we drove on to Rovigo; a town with about eight thousand inhabitants, but with apparently nothing remarkable in it.

7th. After leaving Rovigo, we came in a few hours to the Po at Polsella, a fine deep river, but very turbid and rapid. A poste further we crossed it by a flying bridge, and quitting the Austrian territories, we entered the Papal states. The Douane is situated upon the bank of the river, and although the lascia-passare, for which Sir Humphry had written to Rome from Laibach, was not arrived, he had no difficulty in passing unexamined, a little money being, it seems, here as good as the best pass. We then drove on to Ferrara, where we lodged at the Tre Mori, a very good inn, though badly situated in a very narrow back street.

In the afternoon I walked through the old, deserted, and often grass-grown streets of the town. In the Piazza Ariostea stands a fine old column, and the church in the great square is a fine building externally, the front consisting of numerous rows of arches one above the other. This and the ancient castle or palace of the house of Esté, a large moated brick building, with numerous square towers, in one of which the dungeon of Tasso is still shown, are all that is worth seeing here.

8th. We quitted Ferrara in very bad weather, it having snowed all night, and snow and sleet still continued to fall during the day. We stopped to bait at a lone house, which proved to be a very large and good inn, and then proceeded after dinner to Bologna, which we entered in company with three other English carriages. This is a very fine city, with good streets, on each side of which are lofty arcades, so that even in the worst weather one can walk through the greater part of the town without getting wet. In the evening I finished reading the "Castle of Otranto" to Sir Humphry, for the second time.

9th. Sir Humphry dictated a letter this morning to Professor Morichini at Rome, and I afterwards walked about the town whilst he paid a visit to Madame M——, the wife of a sculptor to whom he had been introduced when he was formerly in Italy. The streets appear well built and modern, though very dirty, and the houses are for the most part fine and lofty; but there are very few grand single buildings or churches; many of the latter are only to be distinguished from private houses under the arcades, by a coloured drapery hung over the door. The Neptune which surmounts the fountain in the square of the cathedral, a work by Jean de Bologna, certainly has its merits as a statue, but the poor water-god enjoys so little of his element, that he can scarcely provide for the wants of his immediate neighbours. After wandering quite alone through the town, the whole morning and a part of the afternoon, I returned to the hotel St. Marco. Madame M—— having invited Sir Humphry to take a seat in her box at the theatre in the evening, I went to see the play and ballet, and was very much pleased with each. The house is spacious and grand, but dark; the spectacle showy, and the singing and ballet very good.

10th. A wet and rainy day. We left Bologna at eight in the morning, and had a dreary and unpleasant day's journey through a flat country, to Faenza, having only stopped to bait at a little village on the road.

11th. Left Faenza this morning, and arrived in the evening at Rimini, passing through Forti and Cecena. Every step we now advance is on heroic ground; and before entering Rimini near Savignano, we passed over the Rubicon, a little insignificant stream, though once the boundary of the most powerful state in the world. The bridge over the little river which flows by the gates of Rimini, is said to have stood for twenty centuries; and in the middle of the town is an ancient triumphal arch nearly as old. It was built by Augustus on his return from his victory over Marc Antony, and is a fine simple arch of stone, though now patched up with bricks. The town is small and dirty, and the Leon Bianco is a wretched inn.

12th. Leaving Rimini we drove along the coast of the Adriatic, close to the sea shore. We saw the distant Appenines on our right, as yet only low hills covered with vineyards and towns, one of which, San Marino, situated on the top of a hill, is a small independent republic of about five thousand souls. Having dined at a little village on the road, we drove on through Pesaro to Fano. The surrounding country is rather mountainous, and seems to abound in defiles and narrow passes, which may easily account for the defeat of the Carthaginians by the Romans, in this neighbourhood. Fano is a small town, lying close upon the sea. The inn where we passed the night was remarkably good.

13th. We left Fano early in the morning, and with it the Adriatic; and turning off to the right, we entered into the Appenines and dined at Fossombrone, (probably modernized from Forum Sempronii,) a small and very old town, situated on the side of a hill not far from the spot where Hasdrubal was defeated and slain by the Roman Consuls, Nero and Sempronius. The country here begins to be very fine, but is not at all alpine. Through a wide and fertile valley runs the Metauro, a beautifully clear green stream. Quitting Fossombrone, we soon came to the Forli, a celebrated pass in the mountains, and a work of the old Romans. The rock in a narrow glen on the side of a small stream has been cut away in order to make the road, which then runs for some hundred yards through an arched gallery hollowed out of the solid stone; this work appears as if very lately finished, and the sublime and rocky scene around, beautifully relieved by the fine and varied autumnal tints of the shrubs, and by the white and foaming stream, is a most fitting spot for such a grand undertaking. Descending from the pass into the valley on the other side, we drove on through Aqualagna to Cagli, where we remained for the night, in a most wretched inn.

14th. We had a long drive from Cagli to Sigillo through a fine mountainous country, passing over some small Roman bridges, easily distinguished from those of modern times, by the gigantic size of the blocks of stone of which they are formed. Another remarkable object on this road is a bridge of great height, built over a deep ravine, in order to preserve the level of the road. It consists of a small arch thrown across the mountain stream, above which a complete circle or tunnel of nearly one hundred feet in diameter, has been built, and thus forms the support of the road. In one part of the mountain we observed some very curiously carved strata in the limestone rock which composes this chain. From Sigillo we proceeded in the afternoon to Nocera, passing on the road many a hill of stones surmounted by a wooden cross, the only monument of the unfortunate travellers who had perished in these wild and solitary spots, by the hands of the ferocious banditti, which still too often infest these parts of the Appenines. It was dark when we reached Nocera, and we here found the hotel as bad if not worse than at Cagli.

15th. We left Nocera at about half-past seven in the morning and reached Foligno by eleven. This latter place is a large and very dirty town, nor does there seem to be anything interesting in it or its vicinity. We quitted it at two o'clock, and drove on to Spoleto, passing along the banks of the Clytumnus, which Byron with truth calls

"A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters,"

for every plant and leaf at the bottom, seems as if viewed through a clear and spotless crystal. A little above the source of this river, stands the temple of its god, of small and delicate proportions. The front is still in good preservation, but the roof is covered with tiles, and the sides are patched with bricks; and it is now apparently used as a stable or pig-sty, and the waters of the stream are polluted by ass-drivers and water-women.

We are now driving over roads once covered with the Carthaginian legions led on by Hannibal, rushing in all the fire of conquest from the field of Thrasymene; and in the evening we arrived at Spoleto, the town which offered him such stout resistance, when on his march to Rome, and before which he lay a fortnight. It lies on a hill, which renders the streets exceedingly steep; and besides this, they are narrow, dark and dirty. The only remarkable object in it is the gate called Hannibal's Gate, which is very ancient, and bears the following inscription on a marble tablet, celebrating his defeat and retreat from this town.

HANNIBAL CAESIS AD THRASYMENUM ROMANIS INFESTO AGMINE URBEM ROMAM PETENS AD SPOLETUM MAGNA STRAGE SUORUM REPULSUS INSIGNE PORTAE NOMEN FECIT.

So much for the days of old! A battalion of French troops would however now hardly allow themselves to be repulsed by the descendants of these victors of Hannibal.

16th. Leaving Spoleto, we passed by a very lofty aqueduct, which conveys the water from the mountains across the valley to the town. A mile or two further on we came to a very long hill, where we had two oxen added to our four horses, to ascend it. The descent on the other side to Terni is still longer: the pass through the mountains is in many places exceedingly narrow, and on each side of the road are lofty rocks; the mountains are wild and mostly uncultivated, and are chiefly covered with dark laurel bushes; on the whole road there is not a village for the poste, and half a dozen houses at Stretura hardly deserve the name of one. A mile or two before Terni the valley widens, and the dark laurel trees give place to groves of olives and green fields, whilst here and there a tall cypress is seen rising from out of the gardens near the town. I was much disappointed here, in not being able to see the celebrated Falls of the Velino, which are only five miles distant from Terni; but as Sir Humphry only stopped to bait, it was impossible for me to do so. There were many carriages at the inn, English, French, and Russian, but the company to whom they belonged were all gone to see the Falls.

Between Terni and Narni, we entered upon a wide and open though still hilly country, through which the Velino winds slowly along. Narni is certainly the most beautifully situated town that I have seen in the Appenines, lying at the side of a hill, at the foot of which the green waters of the Nera roll through a deep romantic glen, out of whose wooded sides gigantic masses of rock are seen to rise, in and upon which many old dwellings, now uninhabited, are discovered. The road from hence to Lavenga is fine and hilly, and between this latter and Otricoli, the mountains open, and show us in the distance Mount Soracte,

the Tiber winding slowly along, and, still further, another chain of distant mountains. The inn at Otricoli was the worst of the many bad ones we have met with among the Appenines, for there was literally nothing to be had in the house; and the only waiter who was to be seen was drunk.

17th. We left these wretched quarters at seven in the morning; and quitting the Appenines, soon afterwards crossed the Tiber, already a tolerably broad, but very muddy river. The whole country is volcanic, and the river seems to flow here through the crater of some tremendous volcano of a former world. At Borghetto, on the other side of the river, are the remains of an old castle, probably gothic. The sides of the roads, from hence to Citta Castellana, contain large masses of white garnet, and we passed by many craters, small and large, some only broad and deep pits, with trees growing out of the clefts of the lava rock; others filled up with earth, and now turned into cultivated fields. Citta, or Civita Castellana, is probably the ancient Veii, and must have been a very strong place in former days. The citadel, from which it takes its present name, is a large fort of half Roman, half Gothic architecture. Before entering the town we crossed a small river, which runs deep below through a wild and romantic fissure in the lava rocks, which surround the town, and of which the greater part of the houses are built. We passed through the town and over a bridge erected by Pius VI. A pompous Latin inscription consigns the name of this pope to posterity, for having ordered this bridge to be built. It is a good strong bridge, but nothing more. The Romans of old built and worked, and let others talk; those of the present day talk much and do nothing. We then drove on to Nepi, a small village, where we dined, and from hence through Monterosa to Baccano, which only consists of two inns, the poste and another, where the vetturini generally stop. Sir Humphry chose the latter, which we found very good. To-morrow we shall enter Rome, which is only two postes distant from us.

18th. Left Baccano at eight in the morning, and in about half an hour, from the top of the first hill, saw the Eternal City, with her seven hills, her towers, cupolas, monuments, and palaces, immediately before us, becoming more and more distinct as the sun dispersed the mists of the morning, and bringing with them the recollections of the times and deeds of old, and of the heroes, statesmen, orators, and poets, whose former dwellings were there, and whose fame still fills the world with admiration. On our left lay the long chain of the Appenines, above which rose Monte Velino, and some other of the more distant and snow-clad mountains, whilst nearer to Rome was seen the Alban Mount, and the hills of Tivoli. On the right lay the wide outstretching campagna, beyond which, although Sir Humphry doubted it, I am sure I saw the straight blue line of the Mediterranean. The carriage rolled on from hill to hill, each of which was covered with villas surrounded by trees, amongst which the tall cypress and the magnificent fan, or Mediterranean pine, were pre-eminent. At La Storta we reached the last hill;

From hence a short drive brought us to the Tiber and to the Ponte Molle, a bridge of brick, built on the ancient foundations of the Pons Molvii, in front of which stands a handsome gateway and tower. Crossing this bridge, we drove along a straight broad street upwards of a mile in length, which ends at the Porta del Popolo, the entrance into Rome, and a magnificent entrance it is. The gate itself is fine, though not very elegant, but the view through it into the Piazza del Popolo is grand in the extreme, and strongly impresses the stranger with the feeling that he is entering into a magnificent city, the metropolis of religion and of the arts. In the middle of the Piazza, which is formed of two large semicircles, rises a superb obelisk of red granite, covered with hierogliphics; four lions of white marble spouting water into the basins before them, form part of the pedestal. In the centre of the back of each semicircle is a very elegant fountain in the shape of a colossal shell, and surmounted by groups of gigantic statues. Looking across the Piazza, three long streets present themselves to view; the middle the Corso; the one on the left, the Strada del Babuino; and to the right, the Strada di Ripetta. The ends of these streets, facing the Piazza, are formed by two elegant churches, perfectly similar in architecture, and above the left semicircle are seen the gardens of the Monte Pincio, the ascent to which, adorned by columns and statues, is not yet finished.

Having found our lascia passare at the gate, we were permitted to drive to the hotel directly, and were not first conducted to the custom-house, as is the case with those who enter Rome without having procured, through some friend, the permission to pass, which is only given by the secretary of state.

At Serny's Hôtel de Londres, on the Piazza di Spagna, a large and open square, we were extremely well accommodated. It is a very large and grand establishment, occupying three different houses, and of course every thing is in the first style. What most strikes a stranger in the streets of Rome, are the numerous shops of mosaics, gems, and trinkets in marble and bronze, and a month and a fortune might be spent by those who have nothing better to do with their time and money, in admiring and selecting such objects. The Corso, or high street, the theatre of all the festivities during the carnival, is every afternoon thronged with carriages, which drive up and down in two lines, the one going, the other coming. This seems to be one of the principal amusements of the higher classes of Rome, and a senseless enjoyment it appears to me, for the greater part of the street is narrow, badly paved, and dark. The number of spectators from four till six o'clock, however, is very great. French is spoken in almost every shop, and the number of English is so great, that one hears nearly as much of that language spoken in the streets as of Italian.

21st. This afternoon I went to the colosæum, where I sat for some hours under the last of the upper arches of the outside circle, looking towards the magnificent church of St. John Lateran, over part of the ancient walls of Rome, and the remaining arches of two old aqueducts, and down upon gardens and vineyards, in many of which are the ruins of ancient buildings and temples; whilst the view over the surrounding campagna is bounded by the blue Appenines, and on the right by the Alban Mount. From the inner wall I looked down from row to row over the dark and ruined arches of the seats, now picturesquely overgrown with shrubs, ivy, and grass, and which were then beautifully tinged with the rays of the setting sun, into the vast arena beneath, formerly the scene of many a savage sport for the amusement of a cruel people, but now only ornamented by the broken shafts and capitals of pillars which once adorned it; and disfigured by the many altars erected by pious devotees, breaking the harmony of the whole, and only serving to shew the magnitude and beauty of the ancient pillars, contrasted with the smallness and insignificance of the modern ones. In the centre of the arena, a large wooden cross has been erected, which is devoutly kissed by the lips of every pious Catholic who passes by. Immediately opposite to me the circle of arches was broken, and let in the view of the near and distant country, where many a tall cypress and pine rose amid the foundations of the old palace of the Cæsars, to the left of which, amid the trees, appeared the pyramidal monument of Caius Sestius. From another side I looked down upon the triumphal arches of Constantine and Titus, upon the colossal remains of the baths of Caracalla, and upon the ruins of temples and palaces, and over modern Rome, to the distant cupola of St. Peter's.

Quitting this mighty ruin, which, together with the arch of Titus, the Popes have been, and still are, engaged in patching up with bricks and mortar, thus destroying the harmony and beauty of the ancient architecture, I returned to Serny's through the ancient Roman Forum, (now the Campo Vaccino,) where lie the chief relics of the former grandeur of the queen of cities. Here are the arches of Constantine, of Titus, and of Septimus Severus; the ruins of temples, baths, and imperial palaces; ruins which have afforded to antiquarians so much matter for research and for dispute, and which are regularly described in the works of every modern traveller in Italy.

3rd December. We remained at Serny's till the first of December, as Sir Humphry found it no easy thing to find a lodging suited to him so late in the year; on the 28th, however, he found apartments at the corner of the Via di Pietra, which he liked, and we entered them on the 1st of December. They are situated in a good part of the city, and look out on the Corso.

31st. Our daily life has been hitherto as monotonous as possible. Sir Humphry sees no society, and wishes to see none, and his only pleasure and amusement seems to consist in shooting. He drives out every day in the surrounding campagna, often to a distance of twelve and fourteen miles from Rome, when he gets out and rides on his pony over the fields in search of quails or snipes. On his return, when he is not too much fatigued, he dictates to me a continuation of his "Vision," which he thinks of forming into a series of dialogues on religion and other subjects; and our evenings are spent, as they have been ever since we left Calais, with a game or two at cards, and with my reading to him different works, principally English and French, which he procures from a circulating library in the Corso. I have formed no acquaintances, as Sir Humphry wishes me not to do so; but when I have copied off the morning's dictation, I often take a solitary walk in the gardens of the Pincio, to St. Peter's, or to the Colosæum.

On Christmas-day I went to hear the Pope celebrate grand mass at St. Maria Maggiore. The whole of the interior of this beautiful church was superbly illuminated, more especially near and round the high altar, in front of which the Swiss guards were drawn up in a semi-circle, and prevented all who were not dressed in black from approaching it. Unaccustomed to the grandeur of the Catholic service, I could not but admire the magnificent dresses of the Pope and the cardinals, and the grand and impressive music and chaunting. At twelve o'clock, when the service was concluded, a line was formed down the grand aisle, through which the Pope and the cardinals retired to the sacristy, to lay aside their splendid, but weighty dresses. His Holiness was carried in a superb throne, supported on the shoulders of his attendants, whilst above him was held a splendid canopy, and on each side large and beautiful fans of feathers and gold. The Pope's Swiss guards, who always attend his Holiness when he quits his palace, are, if possible, a caricature of our beef-eaters. They are forty in number, all Swiss, and many of them do not even speak Italian. On grand fête days they wear steel helmets and breastplates instead of the ancient cap and slashed doublet, which, with black, red, and yellow-striped breeches and stockings, form their usual dress, and in their hands they always carry a long halbert or pike.

1st January, 1829. The only festivities either to be seen or heard which announce the new year in Rome, consist in the discharge of a few cannon early in the morning from the Fort St. Angelo, (formerly the mausoleum of Hadrian, but now the citadel of Rome and state-prison,) and the celebration of grand mass at St. John Lateran.

10th. Sir Humphry this afternoon received a parcel from England, which he has for some days been expecting with the greatest impatience. It was the "Quarterly Review," containing Sir Walter Scott's critique on "Salmonia," which Sir Humphry begged me to read to him directly, and he seemed highly pleased with the manner in which Sir Walter speaks of his work.

1st February. A short time ago a considerable part of the city was illuminated in honour of eight newly-elected cardinals, whose palaces, as well as those of the Roman nobili, were adorned with large wax torches, placed two or more in each window, whilst the houses of the citizens were lighted with small transparent paper lanterns, on which the papal arms were painted.

The daily drive on the Corso is now often enlivened by many gay equipages and servants in splendid liveries, the gayest of which are those of the Russian Archduchess Helena, and the King of Bavaria. I have been twice to the theatre; there are several, and they all opened on the 7th of January. The two principal ones, Argentina and Valle, are small, and by no means striking.

8th. To-day we were near being burnt out of our lodging. On awaking in the morning, I found my room and the drawing-room filled with smoke, and perceived a strong smell of burning wood. The servant said that all the windows had been opened for upwards of an hour, and yet he could not get rid of the smoke. We could, however, discover nothing, till the lodgers from below sent up to say that fire was falling through their ceiling, and upon going into their room I found the ceiling on fire, and that a large hole was already burnt through the beams which lay immediately under Sir Humphry's fire-place. I instantly sent for the fire-men, who did their business very expertly, taking up the floor of Sir Humphry's drawing-room, which they found burning for a considerable space round the hearth, upon which so large a fire had been kept up the day before, that the heat had penetrated through the stone, and thus set fire to the beams. In an hour it was quite extinguished, and all danger over. To avoid the bustle occasioned by the reparation required, Sir Humphry determined to visit the Lago di Solfatara, sometimes called the lake of the swimming islets, and he begged me to accompany him: we therefore set out immediately, and left Rome by the Porta St. Lorenzo, and following the ancient Via Tibertina, we crossed, about four miles from Rome, the Aniene, or, as it is more generally called, the Teverone, a small river, which forms the celebrated cascades at Tivoli. On many parts of the road the remains of the ancient Roman pavement are very distinct, formed of large round or octangular flat stones. About thirteen miles from Rome we reached the little bridge across the stream which runs from the lake of Solfatara. Leaving the carriage here, Sir Humphry mounted his pony, and, turning off to the left across the fields, we soon reached the Lago. It is a small bason of water, of an oval form, and measures in its greatest diameter not more than two hundred yards, but its depth is said to be about two hundred feet. The colour of the water is bluish white, and from the quantity of lime which it holds in solution is by no means clear. The surface appears to be in a state of considerable ebullition, which is caused by the quantity of air that escapes through it, and on flinging in a stone the water bubbles up violently at the spot where it falls. The temperature, however, is far below that of boiling water, for on trying it to the depth of six feet in different places, we found it vary between 85° and 87° Fahrenheit. It continually emits a strong smell of sulphurated hydrogen, which is perceptible upon the high road sometime before one arrives at the Lago. The floating islands, which have contributed to render this lake celebrated, are no fable, and are easily explained. Around it and upon it are numerous species of confervæ and many small water plants, which, becoming encrusted with the carbonate of lime deposited by the water, form with leaves and grasses compact little masses, which, supported by air bubbles that have lodged beneath, or from their own lightness, do not sink, and becoming detached by accident from the shore, swim about and become larger by the junction of these little masses with each other. These little islands are said to have been seen of a diameter of some feet, but the largest which we saw did not exceed two or three inches. A canal has been cut from the lake to the Teverone, which carries off the superfluous water that formerly inundated the surrounding plain. Near the large lake are two others of smaller size, the waters of which are, however, exactly the same. Sticks, leaves, or insects, or any thing which falls into these waters, become thickly encrusted with a strong and hard covering of marble or travertine. It is probable that these three lakes were formerly only one, and may have covered a considerable part of the plain around, which is chiefly formed of travertine that has been deposited by water. Of this stone also the greater part of the edifices in Rome, ancient as well as modern, are built. Close to the lake are still to be seen the ruins of some ancient Roman baths, and it is said that Augustus frequently made use of the waters of the Solfatara.

Upon our return to Rome I heard at the trattoria or restaurateur's, where I generally dine, an indistinct rumour of the death of the Pope, which the Italians express by saying, Il Santo Padre é andato.

10th. This morning the death of the Holy Father was publicly announced by the tolling of the bells, the closing of the theatres and all public offices. His decease appears to cause little sensation among the Romans, by whom he seems to have been exceedingly disliked; and happening at this moment just before the commencement of the carnival, all the festivities and gaieties of which are thus put an end to, it does not serve to render his memory more popular.

11th-14th. Four cardinals have been sitting in counsel for the last two or three days, deliberating whether or not any public festivities shall be allowed, and have now determined that no public amusement shall take place during the time that the papal throne shall remain vacant. The Romans at this news are quite in despair; and no wonder, for I am told that the sum daily spent in this city during the last week of the carnival exceeds 80,000 Roman crowns. Numberless little pasquinades and jeux d'esprit on the late Pope circulate among the people, the freedom of many of which not a little surprises me. The two following are among many others which I saw handed about in writing, though I question if any appeared in print.

Todini was the Pope's barber-surgeon, to whose ignorance and bad treatment his Holiness' death is attributed.

And again—

16th. To-day I made an excursion to Tivoli, with Hofrath F—— of Darmstadt, whom I had met a day or two before by mere chance, in the street, and who kindly greeted me as an old friend. We followed the same road which I had passed over with Sir Humphry when we visited the Solfatara; and about two miles beyond the little bridge over the canal, we again crossed the Teverone, by the Ponte Lucano, near which is the sepulchre of the Plautian family, built of travertine, in the shape of a round tower, and on the front of it are still the remains of some columns and Latin inscriptions. Three or four miles beyond this monument lies Tivoli, where we arrived about ten o'clock in the morning, having quitted Rome at an early hour, and we occupied the whole morning in viewing the ruins and cascades. Our first visit was to the Temple of Vesta, generally called the Temple of the Sybil, a beautiful and elegant ruin, situated immediately above the Falls of the Aniene. It is of a circular form, and appears to have been surrounded by eighteen columns, ten of which are still remaining. These columns are of travertine, and of the Corinthian order. Close to this temple stands another small one, which is said to have been dedicated to the Tiburtine Sybil, of a square form, with four Ionic columns in front. Descending near this temple, a very good path led us down to the Grotto of Neptune, into which the waters of the Aniene precipitate themselves with impetuosity, forming on two sides beautiful cascades, which fall into the same pool, and run from it through a very narrow and highly picturesque valley, round the hill upon which Tivoli is situated. Leaving the grotto and town, we walked along the side of the mountains which look towards the campagna and Rome; and during our walk, our guide showed us the remains and situations of some of the most celebrated villas; the country-house of the poet Catullus, and that of Horace and Quintillius Varo. Before we ascended to the villa of Mæcenas, we passed by the Cascatelle, beautiful and highly picturesque falls, which seem to rise out of the town of Tivoli, and leap down the hill into the valley in many a varied bound. The villa of Mæcenas is now used as an iron manufactory; many of the rooms and corridors are still distinct, and the roof is still perfect. The view from hence towards Rome is magnificent, embracing the whole campagna, with the different towns and villages in it, and is bounded by the cupola of St. Peter's. The Villa d'Este is of modern architecture, and must formerly have been very splendid; but it is now falling fast into decay, and its fine gardens are no longer attended to; the fountains in them are dry, and the numberless statues that adorn them have become brown and dirty.

After dining at Tivoli we returned to Rome, but stopped for two hours at the Villa Adriana, to view the astonishing ruins of this wonderful spot, where the Emperor Hadrian attempted to unite all the grand and beautiful objects which he had beheld in Greece and Egypt. He here built a Lycæum, an Academy, a Pritaneum, like those he had seen at Athens; he formed the Vale of Tempe, in imitation of the celebrated Thessalian Valley; and not content with earthly subjects, he imagined Tartarus and the Elysian Fields, as described in the ancient mythology. The ruins of this stupendous villa cover a surface of seven miles in circumference, in which are found the remains of circuses, temples, theatres, libraries, baths, palaces, &c. &c., which still present an astonishing proof of the almost inconceivable grandeur and magnificence of the ancient lords of the Roman Empire. The mind that planned and executed this mighty work, and conceived the idea of bringing together into one spot of ground the noblest edifices scattered over the surface of the gigantic empire which he governed, could have been of no common mould, nor can any one dwell upon it as such, whilst wandering amid these now mouldering ruins. Leaving the villa, we proceeded to the Solfatara, Hofrath F—— not having yet seen it, and from thence returned to Rome, where I arrived just in time to read to Sir Humphry, after having spent a day of no common pleasure, which had not been a little heightened by the kind and friendly interest shown me by the Hofrath.

20th-28th. These days have been to me days of extreme anxiety, and often of fearful anticipation. On the 20th Sir Humphry was attacked with a renewed stroke of palsy, which had nearly proved fatal to him. In the morning he had, after breakfast, been dictating to me his dialogues, which he had nearly finished, and he appeared even to be better, and more gay than I had seen him for some time. I left him at eleven o'clock, and went to my adjoining room to continue the fair copy, but had scarcely seated myself, when I heard him hastily call me, and upon entering the room I found him fallen upon the sofa, and deprived apparently of the use of his limbs. He evidently thought himself dying, but his voice was quite audible, and he told me, that on attempting to rise from the sofa, he felt that he had no power over his limbs, more especially those of his right side, and that he felt sick at his stomach. With the assistance of the servants I got him into bed as quickly as possible, and I sent immediately for Dr. Jenks, who came directly, bringing with him Dr. Morichini. They each did all that was possible to relieve Sir Humphry's apprehensions, and assured me the danger was not so immediate as he imagined. After they left, I wrote both to Doctor and Lady Davy, and then read to Sir Humphry during the remainder of the day, which seemed to quiet and calm him. He slept very little in the night, and continued much in the same state through the next day, though he was able during it to dictate some codicils to his will, and to finish the little that remained of the Dialogues. On the 22nd he was rather better, although he had much fever, and was able, with the help of my guiding his hand, to sign two or three papers of importance. On the 23rd, however, he became worse, and he dictated a letter to his brother, Dr. Davy, to say that he was dying; but the physicians who visited him daily three times, said he was not materially worse. He has often taken large doses of laudanum and acetate of morphine, (of the latter in one day upwards of twenty grains,) even more than his physicians approved, and on the 24th he was much worse, having passed a sleepless and very restless night. He was extremely weak, and his voice had sunk to a whisper scarcely audible; he said he felt his forces going, and that he should not outlive the day; yet his mental faculties maintained their power and activity, and seemed to be always occupied with the same subject, his Dialogues, the title of which, "Philosophical Dialogues," he said he wished to have changed for "The Last Days of a Philosopher; or, Consolations in Travel." I could not persuade him to take anything during the morning, and even the little which he had spoken to me seemed to have exhausted him. The idea that his dissolution was close at hand, was fixed in his mind, and saying that he had but a few hours longer to live, he begged to be left quiet and alone, and pressing my hand said, "God bless you, I shall never see you again." After this he lay in a torpor for many hours, but in the afternoon he revived a little, and Dr. Morichini at length succeeded in persuading him to take a little broth and a glass of champagne. The reading to him seems to afford him much pleasure, and I have often read to him till midnight; George always sits up with him, and, when anything occurs, immediately calls me. Since the 24th he has gradually got better, and on the 25th he recovered his voice, and was not quite so desponding as before, and the three following days found him still better, but now and then delirious, from the quantity of acetate of morphine which he has taken and still takes.

29th-1st April. Sir Humphry has been gradually recovering, and has now considerably regained the power over his limbs, and is often able to be upon the sofa the greater part of the day. It seems impossible for him to exist without being read to, and on one day I read Shakspeare to him for nine hours. On the 15th of March Dr. Davy arrived from Malta, and Lady Davy from London on the 30th, she having travelled day and night. Their arrival relieved me from much anxiety. When Sir Humphry is able to bear travelling we shall leave Rome, and proceed to Geneva by way of Florence and Genoa, and at the latter city Dr. Davy will probably quit us to return to Malta. Sir Humphry has latterly found himself so much better, that he often takes a drive for an hour or two.

20th. This being Easter Monday, Sir Humphry determined to drive out and see the grand illumination of St. Peter's, which takes place annually on this evening. It was indeed one of the grandest sights imaginable, and we were remarkably fortunate in seeing it this year, when it was said to be more magnificent than usual, in honour of the newly elected pope. Between six and seven o'clock in the evening, thousands and thousands crowd over the Ponte St. Angelo to gain a place in the grand Piazza of St. Peter's. Only the carriages belonging to the cardinals and foreign ambassadors are allowed to pass over that bridge on this evening, all others being obliged to make a considerable detour. At seven o'clock the Piazza is crowded with all sorts of carriages, and upwards of an hundred thousand people. This front of the church, the cupola, and two smaller domes, are seen illuminated with innumerable small paper lanterns, fixed at regular distances. This lasts till nearly eight, and in the meanwhile the mass of the people in the Piazza are loud in their expression of joy and expectation, but as the hour of eight approaches all becomes still and hushed, and only a half-breathed solitary adess', adesso, is now and then heard. With the first stroke of the clock, the great bell of St. Peter's sounds one. All eyes turn instantly to the cross on the top of the cupola, from out of which a magnificent column of flame is seen suddenly to burst. A second stroke upon the great bell, and the fire is seen descending with the rapidity of lightning over the cupola and the other parts of the church. The bell strikes for a third and last time, and the two magnificent semicircular colonades which surround the Piazza, are beheld in a blaze of illumination. The whole is the work of three or four seconds, and so great is the light produced, that of the former illumination not a trace is visible. This lasted for about half an hour, when the lights faded away, and the crowd began to disperse.

21st. This day was celebrated by a magnificent display of fireworks, which the Italians call la Girandola, on the Mausoleum of Hadrian. They are announced by the explosion of a tremendous maroon, which seems to shake Rome to her centre; this is followed by the eruption of Vesuvius, formed by thousands of rockets, which rise at the same moment, and give to a person who has not witnessed an eruption, a terrific idea of that phenomenon. After this follow all kinds of fireworks of the most brilliant description, the whole fort is seen illuminated, and on the top appears the name of the Pope in gigantic flaming letters; suns and stars are seen bursting from the dense clouds of smoke which hang heavy in the air, and the scene closes by another eruption of Vesuvius, which throws a red and fiery glare upon the neighbouring cupola of St. Peter's.

30th. We this morning quitted Rome by the same gate through which we entered, and dined at Baccano, where we found the inn thronged with strangers, chiefly English, all flocking to the north. A few miles beyond Monte Rosa we turned out of our former road, and drove on to Ronciglione, a small village of dark black houses, in the midst of which rises a newly white-washed church and cupola, like a shining light in the village of darkness.

1st May. Leaving Ronciglione, we passed by the Lago di Vigo, a small lake, which lay beneath us as we wound up a very steep hill, from the top of which we enjoyed a magnificent view. In the plain beneath us lay Horace's Soracte; and beyond this mountain, and stretching towards the north as far as the eye could reach, the chain of the Appenines, whose lower regions were clad in the fresh green of spring, while the higher ridges were mostly covered with snow, above which rose the more distant summits of the Velino and many other snowy peaks, now hidden by light fleeting clouds, and then again glittering in a morning sun. At the bottom of the hill we passed through Viterbo, and after a drive of some hours over a hilly country, we came to Montefiascone, a small place, celebrated for its wine, which, if the following anecdote be true, once cost a reverend prelate his life. He was a great friend of good wines, and when on a journey used always to send a courier on before to taste the wines of the different places through which he was to pass, and when it was good he was ordered to write to his master est bonum, and when remarkably good, est, est. On tasting the wine at Montefiascone, the courier wrote est, est, est bonum, and his judgment seemed to have been right; for when his right reverend master arrived, he drank such a quantity of it that it occasioned his death. From the hill on which the town stands is a fine view of the lake of Bolsena, which appears to be the crater of an immense volcano of a former world. In the middle of the water rise two islands of solid rock, seemingly basalt, which is found in considerable quantity on the banks, and appears in some very remarkable formations near Bolsena, and the whole country around is volcanic tufa. Bolsena is the ancient capital of the Etruscans; it lies rather above the road, and we did not pass through it, but drove on to St. Lorenzo, a miserable collection of a few houses, where we stopped for the night at a very bad inn.

2nd. The first town after leaving St. Lorenzo was Aquapendente, a small and very ancient place, romantically situated in a rocky ravine. Between this town and Radicofani we left the Papal territories, and entered Tuscany. Radicofani is a small and very old town, on the brow of a steep hill, which is surmounted by an ancient ruined castle. The change in the Italian pronunciation almost instantly strikes the ear; for here a guttural sound is always predominant. The dress of the peasants also seems to have changed with the change of country; instead of the white and stiffly-starched handkerchiefs of the Roman females, laid in a square upon the head, and falling down the back, we now meet women with pretty black turbans, which give them a much more picturesque appearance; many of them also wear men's hats, only adding one or more black feathers as ornament. In this neighbourhood grows the famous wine of Monte-pelluciano, called by Redi, Il re dei vini. It was not, however, at all to my taste, for it seemed to me a strong, rough, red wine. The green-jacketed postilions of the Pope have disappeared, and in their place we met with red jackets, turned up with black. Having dined at Radicofani, we drove on through a hilly and barren country to La Scala, a lone house, where the vetturini stop for the night.

3rd. We quitted La Scala early, and passing through the same hilly and uninteresting country, arrived and dined at Buonconvento, a small and rather more modern town than any we have yet seen. After dinner we went on to Sienna, and the country became rather more interesting, being now and then diversified with country houses and villas. The roads are excellent, and very well kept. Sienna lies very high, and is seen from a considerable distance, especially two of its towers; one of them very lofty and slender, and the other streaked alternately with black and white lines, just like a Prussian boundary-post. We entered the town by a spacious old brick gateway, and driving through a long and wide street, paved with broad flagstones, arrived at the Aquila Nera, a very good inn. With the exception of the chief street, the others seem narrow and dark. Sienna is remarkable for the pure Tuscan which the inhabitants speak, as a proof of which they relate the following anecdote:—A preacher of some celebrity being on the road to Sienna, to edify its inhabitants with an oration, met a peasant girl on the road, and asked her how far distant he was from the town? She replied to him—

The orator is said to have been so astonished at hearing these words from a peasant, that he instantly gave up his intention of preaching to such connoisseurs of Italian, and returned from whence he came. Not only for its pure language is Sienna famous, but also for its beautiful women; and this very justly, for no where have I seen so many well-made and handsome figures as in the streets of this town. The cathedral is one of the strangest buildings I ever saw; it is entirely built of alternate layers of black and white marble, and the Prussian boundary-post which we saw from a distance is its chief tower. The portico is a fine, but very incongruous piece of Gothic architecture; pillars of all sorts and sizes are intermingled with statues of saints, bas-reliefs, horses' heads, and the gaping mouths of dragons, some gilt, some bronze, and others in white marble. The black marble in the interior seemed to overpower the white, and threw a strange and unearthly gloom over the broad aisles as I saw them in the dusk of evening, hung with flags, and lighted with a few flickering tapers, which hardly served to discover here and there some solitary devotee, praying at the altar of his patron saint.

In the evening, after reading to Sir Humphry, I went for an hour to the theatre, where I found a juggler amusing a numerous and delighted assembly with his tricks.

4th. This was a very rainy day, and Sir Humphry determined to remain at Sienna, to rest himself from the fatigue of the journey, which he has, however, borne much better than could have been expected. In the morning I went again to the cathedral, to see the paintings of Raphael. They are painted on the walls of the sacristy, and represent scenes from the life of Clement II. It is said they were only designed by Raphael when he was very young, and afterwards coloured by another master; good judges, however, can alone decide upon this point. In the same room are some beautifully illuminated old missals, and a fine marble monument by Ricchi, to the memory of the celebrated anatomist Mascagni, who was a native of Sienna. It represents a weeping female in a sitting posture, holding a scroll in her hand, on which is an inscription in letters of gold, and around her lie different anatomical instruments and books. In the middle of the room, on a lofty pedestal, is an antique group in marble, representing the three Graces. They were found in repairing the foundations of the church, and, though much mutilated, are beautifully executed, and may probably have given Canova the idea of his Graces, as the sacristan told me he had repeatedly visited them, and spent much time in the study of them. The cathedral also contains many fine pictures of very ancient date, one as early as the year 1280. The pulpit of African marble is very remarkable for the beauty of its sculpture, and the inlaid and carved pavement before the altar is also very curious, but its chief boast is the possession of one of the arms of John the Baptist; it however has lost its little finger, which a bishop of Florence is said to have bitten off through envy, while devoutly kissing the relic. St. John's head is said to be at Genoa, and I suppose his other limbs are to be found in some part of Italy.

5th. It rained heavily this morning, but cleared up before we left Sienna. The country at first is rather barren and hilly, but improves the nearer we approach to Florence. Tavernelle, where we stopped to dine and bait the horses, is a small and insignificant village; the country beyond it becomes very pretty; the road is bordered with neat villages and villas, from the gardens of which immense clusters of roses hang over the walls, and the distant hills are covered with fine wood, and with the beautiful fan pine. We saw Florence in the valley of the Arno long before we reached it; in itself smaller than I expected it, but surrounded on all sides by innumerable villas and hamlets, peeping through the fine woods, or standing in the midst of beautifully cultivated fields. We entered the city by the Porta Romana, a plain old brick gateway, and drove to the Hôtel de l'Europe, where we were splendidly and comfortably lodged.

6th-9th. We remained these days at Florence, that Sir Humphry might a little recruit his strength; and during this time, at intervals when he did not want me to read to him, I saw as much as I could of the curiosities of this magnificent capital. The celebrated gallery, which is perhaps its greatest attraction, I was only able just to look at, having but two hours to devote to it. The anatomical cabinet of preparations in wax is undoubtedly the finest thing of its kind existing, and shows what effects patience and perseverance can produce, being chiefly the work of one person. Many rooms are filled with glass cases, containing the most beautiful and exact representations of the structure of the human body in all its parts, moulded in wax. The finest and most intricate parts of the human frame are delineated and traced with a distinctness and exactitude hardly to be conceived, and the slightest ramifications of the nerves and vessels have been followed with a clearness and accuracy rarely seen in the most exact preparations of the best cabinets of anatomy. The collection is not confined only to the anatomy of the human body, but contains also numerous specimens of comparative anatomy, amongst which is a most beautiful one of a fish, with all its internal organs. In the museum annexed to the anatomical cabinet are also three representations of the plague at Florence, describing this terrific scourge with a horrible and disgusting accuracy. This, and all other collections, are open on certain days, and at fixed hours, to the public, and any one is allowed to enter, and without paying.

The cathedral is a fine building, in the same style of architecture as that at Sienna, and, like it, is built of black and white marble. The celebrated Campanella, or belfry, is a lofty square tower, detached from the church, and built in a fine and light style; when I was there it was closed, and I had not time to repeat my visit, so that I did not see the interior. One evening I went to the Pergola, a very fine and large theatre: it is extremely simple and elegant, the ground-colour being shining white, relieved by light gilt ornaments, and the opera and ballet were in a style of corresponding elegance. I went once to see the house of Dante, now called the Palazzo Dante, and the residence of the French Ambassador. Near it is also the dwelling place of the two Guicciardini.

9th. We quitted Florence this morning for Genoa, and drove on to Pistoja in two hours and a half. The road runs through a long continued row of villages and villas, linked together by the graceful festoons of the green vine. The plain is covered with Italian vineyards, in which the vines are trained from tree to tree, very different from those of Germany. The villages are full of roses; and the nearer hills are spotted with white houses, rising among the green trees, and beyond them appears a chain of loftier snow-tipped mountains. The inhabitants of the villages were all sitting in the sun before their doors, chiefly employed in plaiting straw for the Leghorn hats. The drive from Pistoja to Lucca is most beautiful; the land is in high cultivation, and appears to be very rich. The mountains became grander, more rugged and bolder, as we approached the Lucchese territory, which we entered about eight miles from Lucca. The ramparts surrounding the town are all planted with lofty trees, which perfectly conceal the houses beyond them, so that, with the exception of one or two towers, no part of the town is visible from without the walls. The streets are old, narrow, and dirty, and the cathedral is an awkward building, the front of which is formed of rows of small arches, one above another, surmounted by a gigantic uncouth white angel, in whose head was stuck a great dry bush.

10th. We quitted Lucca at seven in the morning, and from the top of the hill beyond it, I discovered the straight blue line of the Mediterranean. Descending the hill, and driving about ten miles through groves of olives and rows of poplars, from which the vines hung down in long single festoons, we passed the boundary of the Lucchese territory, and entered the small dukedom of Massa-Carrara, and shortly after into the town of Massa, a neat and airy though old town. White marble is generally used here for the stairs, and for the facings of the doors and windows. Whilst dinner was preparing, I took a walk up to the old castle above the town, now emphatically called the fortress. Its only garrison, however, seemed to consist of four or five soldiers, who were provided with one old rusty cannon. The view from the ruined battlements was highly beautiful: in front lay the wide sea, glancing in the beams of the sun, so bright that the eye could not bear to look upon it; to the left, in the distance, appeared the island of Gorgona, rising like a dark blue rock out of the glittering waves; to the right, two smaller islands were seen, beyond which appeared promontory upon promontory, conveying their woods of olives far out into the sea. Below the castle a vast plain covered with vineyards and groves of olives was seen, stretching down to the edge of the water, intersected by a silvery river winding among the trees, whilst immediately under the hill, and half hidden by it, lay Massa, like the plan of a town spread open before me. Beyond it were seen the wooded hills leading to Carrara, and behind the castle rose rocky and rugged mountains, here and there spotted with a field or two of remaining snow, and, like the Alps, hiding their lofty heads in dark grey clouds.

Quitting Massa, we drove over a noble bridge of one lofty arch built entirely of white marble, and after winding across a long hill, we passed through Carrara, near which, in one of the lateral vallies, are the celebrated marble quarries. A little beyond this village we entered the Piedmontese territory and the dominions of the King of Sardinia, and soon arrived at Sarzana, a small ill-looking town. It being Sunday, the road and town were covered with peasants in their holiday suits: the dress of the women is one of the oddest I have yet seen; they wear no stockings, and their clothes seem huddled on all in a bundle; their hair is drawn away from their foreheads, and tied up behind in a bag of silk, of different colours, some red, some blue, some black, and always with three or four tassels hanging down from the end, whilst on the top of this bag is stuck the funniest little straw hat possible, looking much like a soup plate turned topsy-turvy, and made of frizzled straw, ornamented with coloured ribbons. The women of a higher rank wear white veils over their heads, and no bags.

11th. Leaving Sarzana, we crossed the river Magara in a ferry-boat, and after a pleasant drive arrived at Spezia, a small narrow-streeted town, beautifully situated at the head of the gulf of Spezia, and surrounded on the side near the sea by spacious walks and groves of acacias, which were covered with their long white blossoms, and exhaled a most delightful perfume. In the middle of the gulf, not far from the town, we were informed that a spring of fresh water rises through the sea, forming a pool of fresh water of thirty to forty yards in circumference in the middle of the salt-water. I had however no time to visit this phenomenon, for Sir Humphry wished to be read to for an hour or two, and we shortly after quitted Spezia and with it the sea, and drove on to Borghetto, a little miserable village, the road to which was not yet finished, and very bad, though running through a beautiful valley, much resembling some of those of Austria, with its clear stream and finely wooded mountains.

12th. We quitted Borghetto early, and winding over a very long and high mountain for four hours, we again saw the sea, two or three thousand feet below us, spotted by many a white flitting sail. In the distance was Gorgona, and still further, scarcely visible to the eye, the hazy blue line of Corsica, which was however soon lost to us. A great part of the mountain was composed of serpentine, with which also the roads were mended. From the top we looked down upon other mountains, covered with villages, but very barren, a few olive groves here and there being the only mark of vegetation. At the bottom of the hill we passed through Sestri, a pretty little town close upon the sea, and from thence over a beautiful road on the sea shore to Chiavari, a larger town, rather more distant from the sea, and partly hidden by trees, above which rose its white steeples and some of its houses. The gulf of Sestri is far more beautiful and diversified even than that of Spezia.

13th. We quitted Chiavari this morning for Genoa. The road is beautiful and romantic, running for miles along the side of a mountain, and hanging perpendicularly over the sea, which lies many hundred feet below it. In many parts it appears very dangerous, and were the carriage to upset, the traveller would be instantly precipitated into the waves below. Between Chiavari and Rapal there are two tunnels cut through the solid rock. This latter place is a very pretty village or small town, close upon the sea, and the whole country round it seems very populous; country-houses, villas, and farms, appearing on all sides among the vineyards and olive woods. At the top of the last hill, after leaving Rapal, we came to another tunnel, which was carried through the summit for one hundred yards or more, and presented us with one of the most striking views possible. Looking through the mountain we first saw the blue and tranquil sea, with a few passing sails, then presently rose to view, as it were out of the ocean, the white and glittering towers of Genova la superba, and its field of masts, scarcely visible to the eye. Emerging from the tunnel the view became more extensive, for we could trace the road to Genoa, about ten miles off, running along the mountains somewhat above the sea, and lined with villages and villas lying upon the sides of the hills, which, however, were not so finely wooded as those we had just passed. This city of palaces much disappointed me, and does not at all answer to its splendid appearance from a distance; it seems like two different towns brought together from the opposite parts of the world, and built for very different inhabitants. The upper part of the city consists of magnificent streets, or rather rows of marble palaces, while the streets of the lower town form only an assemblage of dirty and narrow lanes. Our hotel, La Villa, looks out upon the harbour, which is chiefly filled with small craft. In the middle of the gulf, however, were three frigates in full sail, which were bearing the King of Sardinia and his suite to Naples.

14th-17th. Sir Humphry has determined to remain here two or three days to recover from the fatigues of the journey hither. Dr. Davy, who was to have left us here and return to Malta, has determined upon accompanying his brother to Geneva. I generally read to Sir Humphry the greater part of the day, but I went on the 15th for a couple of hours upon one of the hills behind the town, and took a sketch of it as it lay stretched out beneath me. The hills are indeed rather barren, and this, combined with the scarcity of fish, speak for the truth of at least a part of the following proverb,

which is often applied to Genoa. I went one evening to the theatre, after Sir Humphry had retired to bed, and was much amused by a magnificent ballet, Carlo di Borgogna, which, however, ended in a very tragical manner, the heroine being struck dead by lightning amongst rocks and snow, and precipitated into a roaring torrent. The theatre is quite new, and is splendidly decorated.

18th. We quitted Genoa this morning, and drove through the whole town round by the harbour and lighthouse, from which spot the city is seen to the greatest advantage, the white and magnificent buildings and churches rising one above another above the thick crowd of masts, whilst behind the city the hills appear almost covered with country villas and gardens, which in some measure make up for the want of wood. On one or two of these hills are fortresses, which were nearly concealed by the dark and lowering clouds. We drove for some way through a long and very populous suburb on the sea-shore, and then turned off into the valley; and upon reaching the top of a very steep hill, took a last view of the Mediterranean. We reached Ronco, a small and dirty village, but with a decent inn, in a very heavy shower of rain, and having dined there, we afterwards continued our journey to Novi, a small common-place town, where we remained for the night.

19th. We quitted Novi early, and dined at Alexandria, passing over the plains of Marengo, now fine and flourishing corn-fields. In spite of the thick clouds, we now and then caught a glimpse of the white snow on the distant Alps. Alexandria is a small, and apparently not a very strong fortress. After dinner we drove on to Asti, the birth-place of Alfieri, but as much or more celebrated for its fine wines.

20th. We left Asti, and reached Piorino by dinner-time; the roads were very bad, and became still worse between the latter place and Turin. Some time before we reached Turin we came to the Po, which is here not quite so large as the Neckar, but is deep and muddy. Turin lies flat, and has not the appearance of a great city from a distance. A fine bridge over the Po leads into the Piazza del Po, a noble square, forming the entrance into the town. The streets are all built at right angles, which gives to the whole city a neat and regular appearance. We remained here during the 21st, which was a completely wet day, the rain beginning in the morning and continuing without intermission.

22nd. Quitting Turin, the road for the first eight or ten miles was excellent, but afterwards was not so good. St. Ambrosio, where we dined, is a small and dirty village. Every body already speaks French, and the Piedmontese-Italian, which we met with at Sarzana, and heard spoken till we reached Turin, is now quite lost in patois of French and Italian. From St. Ambrosio we had a wet drive to Susa, a small town, prettily situated at the foot of Monte Cenisio or Mont Cenis. Our road lay through a valley bounded on each side by snowy Alps, mostly hidden in the dark grey clouds, which towards evening fell in a heavy shower, and then sailed away up the mountain, leaving the evening finer than could have been expected, and promising a fair day for the ascent of Mont Cenis to-morrow.

23rd. I have now crossed Mont Cenis, one of the highest and most celebrated alpine passes, and I have been much disappointed; though I have seen it not only in the dark and veiling gloom of an approaching storm, but have also gazed upon its bleak and rugged rocks, its frozen lake, and its fields of snow, glittering in the redoubled splendour of the returning sunbeams after the storm had passed away; for I must confess that it cannot bear comparison either with the pass of the Löbel, or the Tauern. It has not the brilliant vegetation of either of these to relieve the eye during the long ascent, nor is the wanderer struck with the fine views that meet him on the Austrian passes, either during the ascent, on the summit, or on the descent. After leaving Susa and the lower vallies, all is bleak and dreary, rock or snow; the road is very good, and often defended by very stout bars. Ascending higher, we reached the Case di ricovero or houses of refuge, small square cottages built on the road side at short distances from one another, and which afford shelter to travellers during the storms that are very frequent here, and are generally accompanied by tremendous winds. During our ascent we were visited by a storm of hail and rain, which lasted for about an hour. Nearly on the summit of the mountain is a hospital, with a few other houses, and two or three inns, and the whole bears the name of Les Tavernes. We here passed the boundary of Italy, and entered into the duchy of Savoy. In front of the little village is a small lake, which was still frozen, and the people at one of the inns told me that in summer its banks are haunted by large, but harmless serpents, which are very good to eat. About half a league beyond Les Tavernes we found ourselves on the summit of the pass, and looked down upon Lans-le-bourg, at the bottom of a wide but barren valley. A few snowy mountains appeared in the distance, but they were neither remarkable in form or height. The road on the French side is by no means so long or so steep as that on the Italian side, though it often winds round very unnecessarily. We descended to Lans-le-bourg in less than two hours, and remained there for the night.

24th. Quitting Lans-le-bourg we followed the valley, which becomes more beautiful as we advanced further to St. Michael. The sides are frequently covered with fine woods, from amongst which many grand and lofty cascades come rushing down into the Ose, which foams and hurries on in its rocky bed by the road side. Near St. Michael is a large and strong fortress, which quite commands the road in the valley. From hence we drove on through St. Jean, a small town, prettily situated and surrounded by some fine rocky scenery, to La Chambre, a paltry little village, with a miserable inn, where however we were obliged to spend the night.

25th. We quitted La Chambre early, and drove on through Aiguebelle, where we quitted the valley, and passed on through a more open and hilly country to Maltaverne, a very good inn, with one or two small houses near it. The surrounding country seems very well cultivated, and appears to be very productive.

26th. We left Maltaverne this morning early, for Aix-aux-Bains, passing through Mount Melian, a small town on the Ose, the same river which we followed from the foot of Mount Cenis, and which we here left a broad and navigable stream. Three leagues further we passed through Chambery, the capital of Savoy, an old town, with dirty and narrow streets, at least those through which we drove, but beautifully situated in a valley, and surrounded with magnificent hills and woods. A very fine road up a long and steep hill, brought us in a couple of hours to Aix, which is a very neat little bathing place, and which appears, from the list of last year, to have been much frequented during the season. The springs, which are warm and cold, contain chiefly sulphur and alum. Near the village is the lake of Bourget, which is pretty, though not on a grand or imposing scale. I took a sketch of it from a stone pier which is built out to a short distance in the lake, and then returned to read to Sir Humphry, who seemed pleased with the sketch, and said he should like to have it introduced in a future edition of "Salmonia," it being one of the lakes which he speaks of in his last dialogue.

27th. Quitting Aix, we passed through a finely cultivated, though not very pretty country, the nearer hills being rather barren, and the distant view obscured by clouds, as it has been for the last day or two, to Frangy, a small country village, where we passed the evening, as Sir Humphry did not wish to go on any further.

28th. We quitted Frangy this morning, and reached Geneva by twelve o'clock, and drove to the Couronne. Sir Humphry is in very tolerable spirits, and the journey seems to have fatigued him so little, that he intends to-morrow morning going out to fish in the lake.

29th May. I quitted Sir Humphry yesterday evening, after having read to him as usual, since we left Rome, till about ten o'clock. Our book was Smollet's "Humphry Clinker," and little did I think it was the last book he would ever listen to. He seemed in tolerable spirits, but upon going to bed was seized with spasms, which, however, were not violent, and soon ceased. I left him when in bed, and bidding me "Good night," he said I should see him better in the morning.

Lady Davy and the Doctor also quitted him, and George went to bed in his master's room, as he always had done since Sir Humphry's illness at Rome. At six o'clock this morning, Lady Davy's man-servant came to my room, and told me that Sir Humphry Davy was no more. I replied that it was impossible, and that he probably only lay in a torpor; but I went down to his room instantly, when I found that the servant's words were, alas! but too true. I asked George why he had not called me, when he said that he had sent up, but now found that it had been to a wrong room. He told me that Sir Humphry went to sleep after we had left him, but that he had twice waked, and that at half-past one, hearing him get out of bed, he went to him, when Sir Humphry said he did not want his assistance, and poured some solution of acetate of morphine into a wine glass of water; but this still remained untouched upon his table. George then helped him into bed, where he says he lay quite still till a little after two o'clock, when hearing him groan, he went to him, and found that he was senseless and expiring. He instantly called up Lady Davy and the Doctor, and sent up, as he believed, to me; but Sir Humphry, he says, never spoke again, and expired without a sigh.

I had so often, whilst at Rome, seen Sir Humphry lie for hours together in a state of torpor, and to all appearance dead, that it was difficult for me to persuade myself of the truth; but the delusion at length vanished, and it became too evident that all that remained before me of this great philosopher, was merely the cold and senseless frame with which he had worked. The animating spirit had fled to its oft self-imagined planetary world, there to join the rejoicing souls of the great and good of past ages, soaring from system to system, and with them still to do good in a higher and less bounded sphere, and I knew that it was freed from many a wearisome and painful toil: yet I could not look upon Sir Humphry as he was, without remembering that which he had been, and my tears would fall, spite of my effort to restrain them.

THE END.

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