Coluntbia ^nitiem'tp 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
BUDGET OF LETTERS. 
 
51005 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, 
 
 By William D. Ticknor & Co., 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 7 An 
 
 boston: 
 
 printed by thurston, torry and co. 
 
 31 Devonshire Street. 
 
MY FATHER 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I SEND forth into the world this '' Budget of Letters," 
 with no lengthened apology. I have merely to say 
 that I wrote them while travelling abroad to friends at 
 home. Those friends have repeatedly asked for their 
 publication, but for various reasons I have hitherto 
 refused to comply with their request. I now consent 
 solely for their gratification ; and as the account of the 
 "things which I saw," aiforded them pleasure, so now 
 would I fain hope, it will interest those who favor it 
 with their perusal. 
 
LETTERS 
 
 0^r Board Ship Burgundy, 
 Off Staten Island, March 26, 184—. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Here we lay at anchor, the wind being ahead, and how 
 long we shall have to stay is more than we can tell. We 
 had an opportunity this afternoon to go up to the city with 
 the captain, but we preferred to stay on board ship, that we 
 may begin to feel at home before we get out to sea, for as 
 you may well imagine every thing is strange to us. As we 
 stepped on board this morning, our ears were saluted with 
 sounds that seemed more appropriate to a farm-yard than a 
 ship. We turned suddenly and saw a meek, innocent look- 
 ing cow, apparently as much out of her element as we were ; 
 and that she might have somewhat to remind her of her 
 country home, sundry pigs were squealing near by, which 
 sounds, ever and anon, were relieved by the noisy geese, the 
 gobbling turkey, the cackling hen, and the quacking duck. 
 From the appearance of this live stock, we judge that we 
 shall want for none of the good things of this life, and with 
 all this preparation for the body, the mind is not neglected, 
 for there is a fine library on board, to which all the passen- 
 gers have access. 
 
 We have ten passengers on board, but three of whom are 
 Americans, so we shall be quite accustomed to the clatter of 
 strange tongues, before arriving in foreign lands. 
 1 
 
Ti LETTERS. 
 
 Our hours are to be, breakfast at nine, lunch at twelve, 
 dinner at three, tea at seven. 
 
 I cannot write more at present, as there is just motion 
 enough of the ship to prevent my writing with ease. 
 
 Friday, half past one. — I have just time to say that 
 we are now under way, and are rapidly nearing Sandy 
 Hook. I have staid on deck and witnessed all the move- 
 ments preparatory to getting out to sea, and I have almost 
 been stunned by the orders of the captain and mates, given 
 in a stentorian tone of voice. Our pilot is soon to leave 
 us ; his little fragile bark follows in our wake. I must has- 
 ten to close this, so I may send it by him to the city. I 
 look forward to the voyage with cheerfulness and perfect 
 freedom from fear. 
 
 Adieu. *' The Lord watch over me and thee while absent 
 one from another." 
 
 On Board Ship, April 7lh. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 Thus far have we sped on our seaward flight. There is 
 nothing around us but the water and the sky. Before, 
 behind, on the right hand and on the left, the blue sea 
 stretches out. More than eighteen hundred miles intervene 
 between us and our beloved home, that home so far away, 
 seeming now dearer than ever, if dearer it can be. Doubt- 
 less you will feel anxious to know how the voyage has pros- 
 pered with us, so I hasten to particularize, and if I should 
 prove too minute in detailing the events of a ship life, you 
 will please bear in mind that I am surrounded by new things, 
 and that I take it for granted that you are as ignorant on 
 these subjects as I am. 
 
 You will see by the date of this that we have been almost 
 two weeks at sea, and you are ready to ask if I am tired of 
 '' a life on the ocean wave." I answer, " No ! by no means." 
 
LETTERS. 3 
 
 For me there is no monotony in the sea, but all is vivid and 
 full of life and perpetual change. No two days has the sea 
 looked alike, yet in all its forms and changes it is to me most 
 beautiful and sublime. 
 
 But I hear you say, " Have you not been sea-sick?" Not- 
 withstanding all your prognostications that I should be sick 
 for at least ten days, I have not been sick as many minutes. 
 I never enjoyed more perfect health or a better appetite than 
 since I came on board ship. Hereafter sea-sickness has no 
 terrors for me. I should never be deterred by fear of that 
 from undertaking any voyage, however long, but should 
 
 laugh at it as an idle tale. But think not that dear has 
 
 been so free from sea-sickness as I have been ; no, in respect 
 to this he can a most piteous tale unfold, for he has scarcely 
 yet been able to leave his berth, and I suppose will have to 
 suffer more or less till we get on land. 
 
 Besides having escaped sea-sickness, I have been free from 
 fear, which you know is another great inconvenience attend- 
 ing a first voyage. Think not from this that we have sailed 
 smoothly on, without a tempestuous wind to ruffle our sails, 
 or to stir up the blue waters. Far from it, for scarcely were 
 we out of sight of land, before a storm came on which con- 
 tinued two nights and days. It commenced in the middle of 
 the night. I was awakened from a sound sleep by a sudden 
 jar which almost threw me from my berth. At first I could 
 scarcely realize where I was. The wind howled and whis- 
 tled through the rigging, the waves dashed against the sides 
 of the ship, ever and anon sweeping across the deck ; the 
 captain was issuing his orders through a trumpet, there was 
 a sound over my head of the heavy tramping of men, and 
 every plank in the ship seemed to have a separate creak and 
 squeak as she rocked to and fro. My heart quailed, and I 
 thought if ever I got on land, it would be long ere I would 
 again brave the dangers of the deep. It was but for a mo- 
 ment, however, for I knew that though " the waves of the 
 sea were mighty, yet the Lord who dwelleth on high was 
 
4 LETTERS. 
 
 mightier," and I remembered that once when the seas raged 
 high, there came a gentle voice that said " Peace, be still." 
 I sang to myself a verse of the Psalm that was sung the last 
 Sunday I was in Church, 
 
 " The floods, O Lord, lift up their voice, 
 And toss the troubled waves on high ; 
 
 But God above can still their noise, 
 And make the angry sea comply." 
 
 And I soon fell asleep as calmly as though I had been soothed 
 by some gentle lullaby, instead of the roaring of the waters. 
 
 The wind during these two days and nights, happily for 
 us, was fair, and we sped quickly on our destined way. It 
 was too rough for me however to be up, so I kept my berth 
 the most of the time, and thus was prevented from witness- 
 in o- that dread sublimity which attends the ocean in a storm. 
 Although I have not seen the sea in all its fury, I have beheld 
 itj when, though the storm had ceased, the waves had not 
 grown calm, but were still heaving and tossing, as if they 
 could not soon forget their former rage. But I can no more 
 at present, for it requires a steady hand to write when a ship 
 is ploughing through the water at the rate of eight or ten 
 knots an hour. 
 
 Sunday, A-pril Wth. — A Sunday at sea! — how different 
 from a Sunday on land. There the sun seems to shine 
 brighter, the skies look softer ; the hum of business, the 
 strife of tongues are stilled, and every thing seems to partake 
 of the quiet and calm of the holy day. But here there is 
 nothing to distinguish this from any other day. No sound 
 of the church-going bell strikes upon the ear ; no voice of 
 prayer and praise is heard. But is there here no sanctuary 
 in which to worship God ? Ah yes ! The hoarse voice of old 
 ocean, the mighty tones of the sea, boundless and fathomless, 
 call us to prayer and praise. Here is a fit temple in which 
 we may bow before the Great and Mighty God. The sea is 
 indeed the " throne of the Invisible," so " boundless, endless 
 
LETTERS. 5 
 
 and sublime," it is the " very image of eternity." Here God 
 is seen in all His power. Vv'hether "calm or convulsed," 
 His name and attributes are written on its blue bosom. Oh 
 my soul ! learn here a lesson of the greatness of that Being 
 thou adorest ! Learn to trust more in the power of Him 
 who holds the waters in His hands, and guides the winds 
 and directs the storms. 
 
 To-day is Easter, the day in which our loved Lord threw 
 off the bands of death and rose triumphant from the grave. 
 To-day, in our own dear church, many that we love have 
 gathered around that board where were spread the emblems 
 of a dying Saviour's love. And were there none in that 
 
 church, and in the dear church at 13 , who thought of 
 
 us? Ah yes ! we would fain believe that many prayers were 
 offered for us and for our preservation on the great deep ; 
 and though not with them in person, yet in spirit were we 
 there, and many dear faces have come before our eyes to-day. 
 
 'Tis night upon the sea, a glorious night. The moon and 
 the stars look lovingly down; the world of waters around 
 me seems sleeping beneath their pure light. I have gazed 
 upon the calm and spiritual beauty of this scene, till I have 
 felt almost raised above the earth. I think of ray distant 
 home across the wide Atlantic, and I adore the power of 
 Him who can watch over us in all our roamings by sea and 
 by land, and over you who are now in the calm stillness of a 
 Sabbath evening at home. 
 
 Tuesday \2th. — We are still going " onward, right on- 
 ward," and if this wind continues, in a few days we shall be 
 in Havre. Still, though anxious to commence our journey 
 on land, we shall be quite sorry to bid the sea adieu, and 
 shall resume with pleasure our acquaintance with it in the 
 autumn. 
 
 We have just risen from lunch; it is one o'clock ; with 
 
 you it is about nine ; such is the difference of time as we go 
 
 farther eastward. I have said nothing to you as yet, about 
 
 our companions on board ship. I find them all pleasant and 
 
 1* 
 
6 LETTERS. 
 
 agreeable. Shall I give you a slight sketch of us as we sit 
 at table ? At the head sits the captain, a large and well pro- 
 portioned man, with full red cheeks, looking like what he 
 really is, a nice, cheerful, jolly companion. Next to him 
 
 sits Mademoiselle H , a young lady just in her teens, a 
 
 pleasant, agreeable girl. Beside her sits her father, a grey- 
 headed gentleman, whose prominent feature is his nose. 
 Then come Messrs. D. and De L., the life of the company, 
 both lively, boisterous Frenchmen, always singing and full 
 of fun and humor. Next is Mr. B., another Frenchman, 
 quiet and gentlemanly, with whom I have not as yet ex- 
 changed a word. Come we back to the head of the table. 
 Opposite Captain L., behold your correspondent, Madame 
 
 , for that is now my title. The next seat is generally 
 
 vacant, as J. is rarely able to take his meals with us. Then 
 comes Mr. A., a young Philadelphian, and the only Ameri- 
 can besides ourselves. Next to him sits Mr. M., a pleasant 
 quiet man, who, after residing twenty-four years in the United 
 States, is returning to his beloved Switzerland to visit his 
 aged father. Then comes Mr. U., a young German, who is 
 revisiting his home after four years' absence. Last of all sits 
 Mr. C, the first mate, an unobtrusive man, but always ready 
 to impart all information in his power. This completes our 
 party at table. We are lively and sociable, as well we may 
 be, feasting daily on the bounties of the land and the sea. 
 A great deal of our time is spent on deck ; we are allowed 
 to talk with the sailors, provided they are not on active duty. 
 No one is permitted to speak to the man at the helm. The 
 officers are amused at my attempts to imitate their orders, 
 and laugh heartily at my confounding names and things on 
 board ship ; as for instance, for a long time I persisted in 
 calling " weather braces," leather braces. I believe I am 
 rarely on deck when Mr. L., the second mate is on duty, but 
 that he is giving some orders about the topsails. Hence we 
 call him " the topsail reefer." 
 
 We have on board sixty-three persons ; ten cabin and 
 
LETTERS. T 
 
 twenty steerage passengers, twenty-four sailors, the captain, 
 two mates, a carpenter, two cooks, two stewards, and one 
 chambermaid. The sailors are divided into two watches, 
 having a mate at the head of each watch ; each watch re- 
 mains on deck four hours. At half-past eight " one bell " 
 strikes, at nine " two bells," and so on till '* eight bells " are 
 struck, and the four hours are passed. This ends one watch 
 and begins another. But the afternoon watch is divided, the 
 watch then lasting but two hours ; this is called the " dog 
 watch," and is thus arranged in order that the watch that 
 was last night eight hours on deck, may to-night be but four. 
 The sailors live well, having plenty of meat, potatoes, cod- 
 fish and rice. When the morning watch goes in at half past 
 eight, they take their breakfast, the other watch having taken 
 theirs just before. At half past twelve they have their dinner, 
 and at half past six their supper. 
 
 The mornings have been foggy and unpleasant, so that I 
 have not yet witnessed " a sunrise at sea." The captain has 
 promised to call me some fair morning. 
 
 To-day we have seen four vessels. This is a sign that we 
 are approaching land. One passed quite near us. It was 
 an exciting scene, and although it was raining quite fast, we 
 all staid on deck till she was far from us. We hoisted the 
 " star spangled banner," and she, in her turn, showed Eng- 
 lish colors. The wind being against us prevented the cap- 
 tain from speaking her. 
 
 The " first day of April " there were many sights to be 
 seen ; whales, ships, steamers, and I know not what else. It 
 was not till after I had two or three times rushed on deck at 
 the risk of life and limb, that I remembered what day it was, 
 and contented myself with staying below. 
 
 One day last week I saw them " heave the log." Instead 
 of seeing a " log " going over, as I confidently expected, they 
 threw into the sea a little triangular piece of cork attached 
 to a long cord, which was knotted at intervals. A sailor 
 stood by with an hour-glass in his hand, and by counting the 
 
8 LETTERS. 
 
 number of knots let out during so many seconds, could of 
 course tell the speed of the ship. Thus from counting the 
 knots, arose the expression so many " knots an hour." 
 
 Wednesday ^ I2th. — Last evening saw the light-house off 
 Scilly Isle. The captain came in with the news just as we 
 were taking tea. Instantly there was a rush. The deck 
 was wet and slippery, and it was raining fast, but we all 
 stood a few minutes to see the light. It is a revolving light 
 and had just disappeared as we went out. This morning at 
 four, we passed the one off Lizard's Isle, two hundred miles 
 from Havre. We are going now quite rapidly along, 
 although the sea is as calm as a little lake, and we can 
 scarcely perceive the slightest motion. We are told that we 
 shall breakfast to-morrow in Havre. Our pilot has just come 
 on board. We gathered around him as though a man was a 
 queer animal, but it really seemed strange to see a different 
 face from those we had seen for twenty days. 
 
 Thursday. — This morning I was almost tempted to be 
 angry, for you must know I had quite set my heart on wit- 
 nessing a sunrise at sea. Now last night I engaged Mr. C, 
 whose watch it would be this morning, to call me early, if 
 there was promise of a fine sunrise. Well, I was aroused by 
 a tap on my window; I jumped up, threw on my dressing- 
 gown and sea-cap, and almost in a moment stood upon deck, 
 but " lo and behold," the sun was already risen ! I had a great 
 mind to be provoked with him, but finally concluded I would 
 not, so I laughed it off and went to my berth again. But to 
 sleep was entirely out of the question, as all the passengers 
 started this morning betimes, hoping to breakfast in Havre. 
 You would hardly believe so much noise could be made by 
 so few people. Trunks were moved about, carpet bags were 
 tossed hither and thither, while the Frenchmen shouted and 
 sung louder than ever, which certainly was quite needless. 
 When I went out to breakfast I stared with astonishment at 
 the change that had come over the passengers. Old hats 
 and caps had been consigned to oblivion ; old coats and pan- 
 
LETTERS. 9 
 
 taloons were among ** the things that had been," while in 
 their places appeared shining beavers, and clothes of the 
 nicest cloth and latest cat. After breakfast we all rushed 
 "en masse " on deck, to see who would be the first to discover 
 land. It was a lovely morning. The air was balmy, the sea 
 calm and clear, and the ship moved along as gracefully as a 
 swan, " when floating down from his native grove." The 
 hours rolled on ; lunch came, and even dinner. Visions of 
 oysters that had come before our eyes, that we had antici- 
 pated eating at this hour, now floated away far down the dim 
 perspective. Murmurs, loud and deep, were heard on every 
 side. Now it was quite a joke our having to dine to-day on 
 board ship, for they of the galley, supposing yesterday was 
 to have been our last dinner on board, gave us a sumptuous 
 repast. But hark ! I hear a shout. "Land!" cries the 
 man aloft; " land ! " echoes the captain; " land, land ! " 
 shouted the passengers, and a loud huzza testified their joy. 
 I ran on deck. The cliffs of Havre were seen in the dis- 
 tance, looking like white clouds with a roseate tinge. We 
 gradually approach nearer and nearer, but still there is no 
 prospect of getting on shore to-night. The Frenchmen are 
 more uneasy and fidgety than ever, while we take all with 
 our usual calmness, and as part and parcel of the inconveni- 
 ences of travelling. Towards night some small boats came 
 along side, and offered to take us ashore. All went but Mr. 
 H. and his daughter and ourselves. How still we are this 
 evening ! You would not fancy this to be the same ship we 
 have been in so long. No singing, no laughing is heard ; 
 no cries to the steward for " whiskey punch " break in upon 
 the stillness. We go to our state-room, knowing that this is 
 our last night on board ship, and we almost sigh to think 
 our voyage has been so quick. I close this long letter here, 
 hoping to be able to send it off to-morrow as soon as we get 
 on shore. When next you hear from us, we shall be amid 
 the stirrinfj scenes of the old world. Adieu. 
 
10 LETTERS. 
 
 Havre, April 16. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 After being twenty-one days at sea, we have once more 
 set our feet on " terra firma." Amid all the bustle of arriving 
 in a foreign land, and surrounded by the utmost confusion 
 of tongues, 1 am almost bewildered ; and were it not that I 
 still see around me the faces of our former companions, I 
 should really feel like a " stranger in a strange land." But 
 I will give you the details of our arrival here. This morn- 
 ing we were called before sunrise, as the pilot's little sloop 
 was seen coming for us. But think not we got off thus 
 early. No, we were not so fortunate, for the steerage pas- 
 sengers had to go with us. It took a long while to lower 
 down their baggage, for they were encumbered with many a 
 "great trunk, little trunk, bandbox and bundle." Some of 
 the trunks looked as though they were made just after the 
 flood, or at least when trunks first came in fashion, for they 
 bore about them the evident marks of antiquity. Finally, 
 all the baggage was removed, and then came *' the live 
 stock," consisting of men, women, and children. We all 
 had to descend a parpendicular ladder, no easy task I can 
 assure you. At last we got off, and we bade good bye with 
 regret to the good ship Burgundy, to her pleasant officers 
 and orderly crew. Our parting injunction to Mr. L. was 
 not to forget the topsails. 
 
 Havre presents a fine appearance as you approach it from 
 the sea. High cliffs protect it on one side, while, on the other, 
 the land slopes gradually down to the water's edge. The 
 fields look green and fertile, and the trees are in full bloom. 
 The harbor is very good; two piers of superior workman- 
 ship extend some ways into the water, forming a kind of 
 basin, or inner harbor. As we neared the wharf, some small 
 boats came off, in which were men from different hotels, 
 each one eager to recommend his own. Such a clattering and 
 jabbering, and such a thrusting of cards into our hands, I 
 never before witnessed. All I could distinoruish was " Hotel 
 
LETTERS. 11 
 
 de Paris," " Hotel de Londre," and I can't tell how many 
 other •' hotels." At last came one from " Hotel d'Europe," 
 where our fellow passengers had gone. This man came on 
 board and accompanied us on shore. No sooner had we 
 landed than we were surrounded by a file of soldiers, who, 
 with charged bayonets, marched us to the custom-house. 
 Was not this a formidable beginning of our travels? As for 
 our humble selves, we began to think we were of some 
 consequence in the world, that our arrival should cause such 
 a stir. As we entered the custom-house an officer came to 
 Miss H. and myself and said, " tobac, segars ?" VVe drew 
 ourselves up to our utmost height (we are both quite short) 
 and said with supreme indignation, "No! ladies in America 
 do not use such things." Mr. H. and J. had their pockets 
 punched and their hats searched, to see if they bore about 
 any contraband articles. Having gone through this personal 
 examination, our keys were demanded, and our trunks 
 opened. Into these, however, they but barely looked, and 
 then we were allowed to go off in peace. How we stared 
 about, as we walked to the hotel, every thing was so strano-e 
 to us. The constant jabbering of French would have struck 
 us still more strangely than it did, if we had not been in 
 some degree accustomed to it on board ship. 
 
 We had not walked two steps from the custom-house, 
 before I stopped short and stared at the queerest little cart, 
 and the oddest harnessed horse that I ever saw, the collar 
 rising far above the horse's head. I could not speak for 
 laughing, but could only stand and point at it. Then there 
 were women wearing caps instead of bonnets, and havino- on 
 great wooden shoes, which went " clumpy-ti-clump" alono- 
 the stone pavements, causing us many a time to start, think- 
 ing a horse was after us. Then we saw little donkeys with 
 great baskets slung across their backs, so that no part of the 
 animal was seen but his feet and ears. Between the baskets 
 were frequently perched a man and a woman, with often a 
 child or two seen peeping from the basket. The houses too 
 
12 LETTERS. 
 
 are odd ; they are high and narrow, and built of stone, hav- 
 ing windows opening up and down through the middle like 
 blinds. These when open give a house an airy appearance. 
 The paving stones are flat on the top, and are three or four 
 times laro-er than those at home, and thus one can walk on 
 them quite as easy as on the sidewalks. In fact only the 
 principal streets have sidewalks. 
 
 And now behold us arrived at the " Hotel d' Europe," a 
 large, stone house built around a court. You may well ima- 
 gine we soon called for breakfast, it being eleven o'clock when 
 we arrived. There being no public table for breakfast, each 
 one calls for whatever he chooses. We made our breakfast 
 of oysters, which however have a different taste from our 
 oysters. After breakfast we took a long walk. Again our 
 attention was all absorbed by the novel sights and sounds by 
 which we were surrounded. You know my aversion to 
 dogs ; well, one kept constantly at my heels. I attempted by 
 threats and scoldings to get rid of it, but in vain. At last it 
 suddenly popped into my head, that probably the dog did not 
 understand English, so I spoke to it in French, and if you 
 will believe me, it instantly obeyed. Curious, was'nt it 1 
 
 The shops are fine looking, though there is not a great 
 variety of them, the most of them being occupied as cafes 
 and for toys, jewelry and embroideries. Caps are in almost 
 all windows ; you see no bonnets. Some of them are very 
 beautiful, others are of common materials, adapted for the 
 lower classes. 
 
 We dined to-day at half-past five. As this was our first 
 dinner on shore, you will permit me to give you a little 
 account of it. The meats were in covered dishes, and the 
 dessert was all on the table when we sat down. First we 
 had soup ; this was served the same as at our hotels at 
 home, then beef, mutton, chickens, game, &c. These 
 were all successively carried to the head of the table, where 
 they were carved and then sent round to each individual. 
 If you do not choose to eat of the first dish, you must 
 
LETTERS. 13 
 
 wait till the second is sent round, and so on. At dessert, 
 however, each one can help himself. At each plate to-day 
 was a bottle of wine. 
 
 This evening, notwithstanding our fatigue, we again 
 walked out. The streets were full of people, the shops were 
 brilliantly lit up, and there were crowds around each win- 
 dow, all gazing as though they had never seen the like 
 before, and yet I am told this occurs every evening. It 
 seemed like the evening of the Fourth of July as it is with 
 us, except that here was no riotous noise or confusion. 
 
 Saturday Morning. — I have time merely to say, that we 
 are soon to start in the Diligence for Rouen. I must soon 
 seal this, as in a few minutes the mail leaves for England, 
 and I wish to send it by the steamer that sails from Liver- 
 pool on Monday, and thus you will hear from us two weeks 
 sooner than you anticipated when we left home. Oh ! I 
 must not forget to tell you that this morning when our bill 
 was given us, there was a separate charge for every thing 
 that we had had, even to the use of a candle in our room last 
 night. But my letter is called for : so for the present adieu. 
 
 Rouen, Saturday Evening. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Late as it is, I cannot think of retiring for the night with- 
 out giving you the events of this day, for so much of our 
 time is taken up in sight-seeing, that I dare not postpone my 
 letters for a single day, for fear of getting too far behindhand. 
 We went soon after ten o'clock to the Diligence office ; for 
 you must know they do not come for us at home, but we 
 have to get ourselves and baggage conveyed to the office. 
 We bade farewell to our fellow passengers, excepting Mr. 
 and Miss H., and Mr. M., who accompanied us here. The 
 Diligence is about as large as one of our large omnibuses, 
 2 
 
14 LETTERS. 
 
 and is divided into three parts, " the Coupe," " Interieur," 
 and ** the Rotund." The '* Conductor" sits on top. Un- 
 derneath him is " the Coupe," which can accommodate but 
 three persons ; this is the best seat, as it is open both in front 
 and at the sides, and of course commands the finest view of 
 the country. "The Interieur" holds six persons, and is 
 open at both sides ; this is the next best seat. Last of all 
 comes " the R-otund," which will seat four, six or eight per- 
 sons, according to the size of the Diligence. This is open 
 at both sides and at the back, and cculd one always get 
 the first choice of a seat, he might get along nicely, but if 
 he should have to sit between two fat passengers, he would 
 find his vision somewhat bounded by his neighbors' sides 
 and elbows. " The Coupe " is five francs, and " the Inte- 
 rieur " two more than " the Rotund." The lower classes of 
 people generally ride in this last, and to-day we were obliged 
 to take our seats there too, as all the other seats had been 
 previously taken up. Indeed " the Coupe " is often engaged 
 a week beforehand. 
 
 The country for twenty or thirty miles from Havre was 
 exceedingly beautiful. The grass was green and the trees 
 in full bloom ; not a fence or a wall was to be seen, haw- 
 thorn hedges entirely taking their place. In order that the 
 cows and donkeys might not trespass, each had a rcpe tied 
 around its neck, sometimes fastened to a tree, and as often 
 held by a man, woman, or child. 
 
 We passed some delightful seats; these mostly stood some 
 distance from the road, and had fine avenues of trees leading 
 to them. The trees however were clipped, which gave them 
 rather a stiff appearance. 
 
 Sometimes the road ran in sight of the Seine, the banks 
 of which, though low, abound in scenes of beauty. After 
 the first thirty miles the country grew tamer and poorer. 
 Limestone hills bordered one side of the road. In the ex- 
 cavations of these hills, whole families live, nay, I may say, 
 whole villacres are thus formed. 
 
LETTERS. 15 
 
 The houses of the common people in the country through 
 which we passed, were low, seldom more than one story, and 
 nearly all had thatched roofs. They had a picturesque ap- 
 pearance, and their inhabitants seemed to know what consti- 
 tutes rural beauty, for their little yards were planted with 
 flowers, and enclosed by the hawthorn hedge. 
 
 The road was wide and very good, and so singular did it 
 seem to us from the absence of walls, that it appeared as 
 though we were riding across some large meadow. We saw 
 in many places women working in the fields, and carrying 
 on their heads bundles of fagots larger than many of our 
 laboring men at home would like to bear. I did not see 
 any bonnets, all wore caps, and the complexion is much 
 better than one would imagine it to be, from so much expo- 
 sure to the sun. The women wear gowns reaching but 
 little below the waist, and petticoats of different color and 
 materials from the gown. They were in this attire all along 
 the road ; one woman rode ten miles on the outside of the 
 Diligence, without bonnet or shawl, while I was in my thick 
 travelling dress and cloak. 
 
 Again the scene changed, and became highly picturesque 
 and beautiful. Rouen lies in the midst of a fertile country, 
 and often from the winding road we caught sweet glimpses 
 of this ancient place. Just as we entered the city, what do 
 you think I saw ? Yankee though you are, you would never 
 guess. It was a woman shaving a man ! Yes, a woman 
 barber ! only think of it. The streets of Rouen are so 
 very narrow, that the wheels of the Diligence almost touched 
 the windows on either side. As we got into the city we 
 had cards in abundance thrust into our hands, but we took 
 the hotel nearest to the Diligence office, which is the 
 " Hotel Vatel." 
 
 What a queer room we are in ; I wish you could see it. 
 You would wonder where we are to sleep, but open that 
 large cupboard door, see that small, handsome bedstead. 
 Step across the room this way ; open this door, behold 
 
16 LETTERS. 
 
 another bed. In another little recess see the washstand 
 and dressing-table. Is'nt it queer ? Yet it is a nice arrange- 
 ment, for when these doors are shut, it gives the room the 
 appearance of a parlor. 
 
 Perhaps you think we contented ourselves with sitting 
 down quietly in our room after our ride of sixty-six miles. 
 Well then you are quite mistaken, for no sooner were we 
 rid of our coats and cloaks, than taking a guide with us, we 
 started out to view the city. Here was just such another 
 scene as we witnessed last night in Havre. There were 
 crowds in the streets before the shop windows, which, as we 
 came home, were lit up as for an illumination. In our walks 
 we passed the place where Joan of Arc was burnt, where a 
 monument is erected to her memory. Adjoining this spot 
 is the former " Hall of Justice," where she was tried and 
 condemned. On the lower part of the outside of this build- 
 ing is sculptured in bas-relief her history. Here she is first 
 seen in her humble capacity as a peasant girl ; then she pre- 
 sents herself to the king as an ambassadress from Heaven ; 
 in her suit of armor and on her fiery war horse, she leads 
 the troops to battle, and the English are seen flying before 
 her. The very peasant's cap she is represented as wearing 
 is the same as those now worn by the common people, and 
 is still called " Joan's cap." It is a high, conical cap, 
 made of thick muslin, starched very stiff, and so set upon 
 the head as to add a foot or two to the height of the wearer. 
 
 We just looked into the Town Hall, where is quite a 
 large gallery of paintings, called the Corneille Gallery, but 
 it was too late to examine them minutely, so we went into 
 the Library, which contains about fifty thousand volumes. 
 On the table lies a large book, bound and clasped in the 
 most antique manner. It is over one hundred and sixty 
 years old, and was done by a Dominican monk, who was 
 thirty years engaged upon it. It is written in Latin, and 
 contains the Psalms set to music, and histories of different 
 events in the life of our Saviour, each event illustrated by a 
 
LETTERS. 17 
 
 p:iinLing done by the same individual. Tims at the birth cf 
 Christ, the shepherds are seen tending their flocks by night, 
 while an angel appears to them proclaiming the glad tidings. 
 Thus, too, His circumcision, His baptism. His miracles, the 
 last supper, the crucifixion, the resurrection and the ascen- 
 sion, are all illustrated by paintings; these are on parchment, 
 and the colors are as bright and fresh as though just put on. 
 A few years since some Englishmen offered ten thousand 
 dollars for it. 
 
 In this library is a glass case, in which, on a velvet cushion, 
 lie two keys connected together by a silken cord. They are 
 of silver gilt, and are the keys of the city, presented to Na- 
 poleon on his passage up the Seine. 
 
 I am really too tired to write more at present, so must 
 bid you good night. 
 
 Sunday. — How different has this day been from a Sunday 
 in our own city ! This day, in this country, seems to be the 
 day of days, not for worshipping God, but for recreation and 
 amusement. As there is no English place of worship here, 
 we went this morning to the Cathedral. It is an imposing 
 edifice, but I am not sufficiently versed in architecture to 
 give you a description of it. We entered, by a large door, 
 at once into the interior of the church ; the ceiling is lofty, 
 supported by massy pillars. There are no pews, but hun- 
 dreds of little flag-seated, common looking chairs are scat- 
 tered about. Fastened to the pillars, at the entrance, are 
 basins containing the holy water, into which those going in 
 dip their fingers, and make on their foreheads the sign of 
 the cross. This is done without any apparent reverence 
 whatever. When we went in, there were many persons in 
 the church, some sitting, some kneeling, but few there were 
 who seemed devoutly to worship God. Even the kneeling 
 ones would follow us about v/ith their eyes, wherever we 
 went. 
 
 Within the chancel were many priests, and several boys 
 who assisted in the service, though what they said, or what 
 
18 LETTEPwS. 
 
 they did, or what it all meant, is more than I can tell. They 
 were all dressed in scarlet robes, with a white mantle over 
 them. In the midst of the service some of the priests and 
 the boys disappeared, and came back dressed in black, in- 
 stead of scarlet. They then went out of the church in a 
 procession, to attend a funeral. All this time the people were 
 oroinor in and coming out just as they pleased. Here were 
 the common people in their caps and short gowns, with their 
 baskets of provisions on their arms, and there were high- 
 born ladies in their silks and velvets ; all were mixed toge- 
 ther, and the small slipper was seen side by side with the 
 great wooden shoe. 
 
 This church has several towers, and still another is being 
 built of iron, which, when finished, will be the highest in 
 Europe. In one of the towers are four bells, whose soft 
 chimes, now at eventide, come floating upon the air, filling 
 my ears with their sweet music. 
 
 When we came out of the church, we saw some boys 
 spinning their tops upon the steps. As we came back to 
 our hotel, we should never have judged from the appearance 
 of the streets, that it was a day of rest. Here, we saw 
 stands of fruits and flowers, and there stalls, where were ex- 
 hibited for sale every article of wearing apparel, and all 
 kinds of household utensils, both new and old. Here, we 
 passed a crowd of people gathered round a man who seemed 
 to be acting some kind of a play, and there another, round 
 one who was playing on a violin and singing, and still ano- 
 ther round a pole, to which were attached little wooden 
 horses, on which men, boys, and even girls were seated, and 
 which swung round and round with amazing velocity. 
 
 How we have sighed to-day for the stillness of our own 
 home, and the service of our own church ! 
 
 As we were coming out from dinner, what question do 
 you think the hotel keeper asked me ? Why, if I was going 
 to the theatre this evening ! What can be the religion and 
 morals of any place, where, instead of the church, the 
 
LETTERS. 19 
 
 theatre is open on the Sabbath evening 1 Apparently no 
 city in Fran:e has suffered more from the Revolution, in a 
 religious point of view, than Rouen, for previous to that 
 event there were thirty-six churches in this city ; now it can 
 boast but of fourteen. One, that was once consecrated to 
 the service of the living God, is now a stable. Yes, a fine 
 stone church, with its Gothic windows, its towers and but- 
 tresses, is now thus desecrated ! The arched doorway, 
 where once entered many a robed priest, many a noble lord, 
 many a princely dam.e, is now an entrance for ** the horse 
 and his rider ! " The walls, which once were vocal with 
 songs of praise ascending to the great Creator, now resound 
 to the neighing of steeds ! Such is one of the effects of 
 that Revolution, when the Sabbath was abolished, and re- 
 ligion pronounced an idle, useless thing ! 
 
 But I must close, for we leave to-morrow morning at one 
 o'clock; so now, farewell, and may the God of our fathers 
 have you in his holy keeping. 
 
 Paris, April 21. 
 My dearest P. : 
 
 Behold us now in this great city of Paris, the city where 
 
 probably are combined splendor and wealth with as much 
 
 squalid wretchedness and poverty, as in any other city of 
 
 the globe. You expect me to be overwhelmed with the first 
 
 sight of this great metropolis, and to be in ecstacies with 
 
 every thing I see and hear ? I am sorry to dispossess you 
 
 of this idea, but the circumstances of our arrival here were 
 
 such as to excite almost any other feelings than those of 
 
 pleasure or admiration. We arrived here in a pouring rain, 
 
 and it has rained ever since, as it seems to me it can rain 
 
 only in Paris. Besides, I had not then got over the fatigue 
 
 of my first day's sight-seeing. 
 
20 LETTERS. 
 
 But you may like to hear the particulars of our journey 
 to this city, so here you have them. We succeeded in get- 
 ting seats in the Diligence that left Rouen Monday morning 
 little after one o'clock. Before we started, I took off ray 
 bonnet, and putting on my quilted cap, settled myself to 
 sleep, and by the time we were well out of the city I was 
 fast locked in the arms of Morpheus, and so soundly did I 
 sleep, that it was seven o'clock before I awoke. Do you 
 not think I am well calculated for journeying, if I can sleep 
 at that rate ? 
 
 It was raining quite fast when I awoke, and as the win- 
 dows of the Diligence were closed I could see but little of 
 the country, but from what I did see, it did not seem as 
 beautiful as from Havre to Rouen. The houses w^ere not 
 scattered along the road-side, but were collected together in 
 little villages, at some distance from each other, so that we 
 often rode two or three miles without seeing a house. These 
 villages were walled, and were any thing but interesting ob- 
 jects of vision. The land seemed in a good state of culti- 
 vation. When we stopped at the Diligence office, our 
 trunks were examined, though but slightly. You will won- 
 der why it was necessary to have this done, but your wonder 
 cannot be greater than ours, till we were told that it w^as to 
 prevent the possibility of smuggling the country wines into 
 the city. Could they have known our strict temperance 
 habits, they would never have suspected us ; but so it is all 
 the world over, the innocent have to suffer with the guilty. 
 
 As we came from the office, a man asked us, as I thought, 
 if we would have a carriage ; and I said. Yes. So he lashed 
 our two trunks and carpet-bag on his back, and motioned 
 for us to follow. He started off, but instead of his being a 
 coachman, we found he was a porter, and so we had to 
 trudge on, in all the rain and mud, and, as it seemed to us, 
 through all the streets of Paris. At length we came to a 
 fine row of buildings, the lower story arched, and supported 
 by pillars, forming a beautiful colonnade the whole length 
 
LETTERS. 21 
 
 of the Street. On the other side was the garden of the 
 Tuilleries, so we knew we must be in the Rue Rivoli. We 
 soon reached " Hotel Meurice," but found they had but one 
 room to spare, and that was in the upper story. However, 
 as we expect to stay only long enough to get our draft set- 
 tled, and our passports ready for Italy, we thought the room 
 would be a secondary matter. Besides, we were told an- 
 other room would be empty in a day or two, so we agreed to 
 take the upper chamber. But, " goodness me 1 " I thought 
 we never should reach it. Up six flights of stairs we toiled. 
 We sighed and groaned, and so did the poor porter, and 
 well he might with those heavy trunks on his back ; he well 
 deserved his four francs. As soon as we got rid of the mud 
 and dirt that had accumulated on us in our long walk, we 
 started out to find Galignani's bookstore, as we wanted his 
 " Paris Guide." After losing our way several times, and mis- 
 understanding our directions as many more, we made out to 
 find it, but not till my poor feet ached sadly ; and then for 
 my consolation I had to think of the one hundred and twenty 
 stairs I was obliged to ascend after I got home. Was it not 
 dreadful ? 
 
 Yesterday and to-day J. has been busy in getting the 
 draft and the passport ready for Italy, and so numerous are 
 the formalities we have to go through, that we find we can- 
 not get away before Monday ; so to-morrow we begin the 
 rounds of sight-seeing. 
 
 This is one of the largest hotels in Europe. It is built 
 around a court, or, I may say, two or three. We enter the 
 first court from the street through a large gateway. On the 
 lower floor is the lodge for the porter ; which word, by the 
 way, is used in quite a different sense from what it is with 
 you. The duty of a porter is to watch all that go in or out, 
 and all packages and letters are left with him. After sunset 
 the gate is closed ; you can then gain admission only by 
 knocking. The first evening that we walked out, we were 
 quite surprised to find the gate locked though it was quite 
 
22 LETTERS. 
 
 early; we knocked pretty loudly, and while the knocker 
 was yet in our hand, the gate flew open, though no person 
 was visible. We have since found out that there is a cord 
 attached to the gate, which passes into the porter's lodge. 
 The moment he hears the knocker, he pulls the cord, and 
 the gate flies open as by magic. This cord hangs directly 
 over his bed, so that he can let any one in during the night 
 without being obliged to get up. His bed is in such a posi- 
 tion as to command a view of the whole court, and should 
 any one enter but those who belong to the hotel, he is 
 instantly on the alert. 
 
 Each person staying here is desired to lock his room when 
 going out, and leave his key in a little office on the lower 
 floor. One day I came in from walking, and hurried to my 
 room, counting each stair as I went up, and never thought of 
 my key till I got to my very door, and then I had to go way 
 down and come way up again. Now was not this enough 
 to try the patience of a more Job-like personage than I am 
 known to be ? 
 
 All the waiters at this hotel speak English ; this makes it 
 a great resort for Englishmen and Americans. As soon as 
 we arrived here, our passport was demanded ; it was sent to 
 the Police office, where were registered our names, the hotel 
 where we are, and even the very room we occupy. Every 
 hotel keeper is obliged by law to see that this is done. 
 There is one convenience attending this arrangement. If 
 you want to know if there are any of your countrymen in 
 the city, you have only to step to the Police oflSce, and there 
 you will find out where they are, when they came, and what 
 day they leave^ that is, if their passports have been signed 
 for any particular day./ Let me give you another instance 
 of its conveniency. A stranger arriving in Paris, went to a 
 hotel, and while his room was being prepared for him, saun- 
 tered out to take a view of the city. His attention became 
 so much engrossed that he noticed not how fast time flew, 
 nor how far he had walked, and when he began to retrace 
 
LETTERS. ^ 
 
 his Steps, he became so bewildered, as utterly to forget even 
 the name of the hotel where he had stopped. Now here 
 was a sad predicament for a stranger in a strange city. He 
 knew not where to go, or what to do. At last he suddenly 
 remembered of having heard of this arrangement I have 
 mentioned ; so he took a carriage, rode to the Police office, 
 and asked if they could tell him where he had left his bag- 
 gage. The Commissary instantly turned to his book, 
 opened at the page corresponding with the day of the week, 
 and the month, gave him the name of his hotel, and the 
 number of his room, and also told him w^here he came from, 
 and whither he was going. Thus he found that a stranger 
 to him knew more of his own affairs than he did himself. 
 But this has also one inconvenience ; you are overwhelmed^ 
 with cards of different persons and different trades. Now, 
 it is the card of a fashionable tailor ; then, of a first-rate 
 shoemaker ; now, a modest note, asking your subscription 
 to some newspaper ; then, an earnest request for a donation 
 to an orphan society or some such object. We have not yet 
 come in from walking, but we have found several of such 
 cards on our table. But I have digressed far from my 
 subject. 
 
 We dine at the hotel at half past five. The dinners are 
 conducted in the same manner as at Havre, excepting that 
 when we sit down, nothing is seen on the table but the des- 
 sert and large vases of flowers. We know nothing about 
 what we are to eat, till it is passed around to us. We have 
 the nicest dinners here, and every thing is conducted in the 
 most orderly manner im.aginable. We take our breakfast at 
 a cafe. You can have a simple or a most sumptuous repast; 
 each article has its price, and you pay only for such things 
 as you call for. They have the nicest rolls and the most 
 cunning little cakes of butter you ever saw. The butter is 
 made new every day, and is never salted, each one doing 
 that to his own taste. 1 wish you could have seen the look 
 of astonishment on the waiter's face, when in answer to his 
 
24 LETTERS. 
 
 question, what drink I would take for my breakfast, I told 
 him ** cold water." 1 do not doubt he thought I was a 
 savage from some far off isle in the ocean. A great drink 
 among the Frenchmen is sugar and water. At all hours of 
 the day you will see them enter the cafes and call for *' eau 
 Sucre." A glass of water is handed them, and a few lumps 
 of sugar ; they sweeten the water to their taste, and then 
 deliberately put the remaining pieces in their pocket. 
 Economical, is'nt it? Each cafe has a marble counter, 
 behind which sits the mistress of ceremonies, sometimes 
 young, sometimes old, sometimes pretty, sometimes homely. 
 From her the waiters take their orders, and to her carry all 
 the monies. Almost all these cafes have the papers of the 
 day, so we have an opportunity to get the news with our 
 breakfast. Galignani's paper is in great demand, as it is 
 printed in English and has the English and American news. 
 But it is time for me to draw this long letter to a close. I 
 have given to you, in a desultory manner, such little items of 
 information as I have here and there picked up. I assure you, 
 one has to keep his eyes wide open and his ears too, for that 
 matter. I find my little smattering of French does me some 
 good, though thus far I have not found so much use for it 
 as I shall hereafter, when I am away from those who speak 
 English. But if I do not stop soon, you will think I have 
 the bump of continuance largely developed, so good-bye. 
 
 Saturday, April 27th. 
 My dear : 
 
 Three days have passed since I wrote to you, and in those 
 
 three days I have seen so much, that my poor head, never 
 
 one of the strongest, is almost bewildered, I have intended 
 
 every evening to write to you, but each succeeding one has 
 
 found me so utterly fatigued, that after I have noted the 
 
LETTERS. 25 
 
 events of the day in my journal, I really have had no strength 
 to write another word. 
 
 On Thursday morning, after breakfast, we started on our 
 journey around the city. Now think not from this, that it 
 was in the " fresh, young morning" we commenced the 
 duties of the day. No ; we do not practise the primitive 
 habits of our forefathers who rose before the sun, and took 
 their breakfast ere his first rays kissed the dews from off the 
 flowers. We breakfast at ten o'clock, and find it the most 
 convenient hour as we dine so late. Besides, the palaces, 
 museums, &&c., are not open till half past ten or eleven, so 
 we should gain nothing by being out earlier. You say, 
 " breakfast at ten ! Pray, may I ask, what time do you get 
 up ? " Ah ! that 's a secret. 
 
 But to our task. We spent two or three hours on Thurs- 
 day morning at the picture gallery in the Louvre. Now do 
 not think that I am going to trouble you with a long descrip- 
 tion of this palace. No! for that you must look into some 
 of the guide books of the day. Suffice it to say, this gallery 
 is in the second story of the palace, and runs through the 
 whole length of this immense building. It is divided into 
 many rooms, and the pictures line the rooms on both sides. 
 There are more than two thousand pictures, and my eyes 
 ached before I had seen the twentieth part of them. They 
 are mostly placed there for exhibition, and there are at pre- 
 sent none in the gallery that have been there more than 
 three years. I speak, of course, of the modern paintings. 
 After spending as much time as we could spare in looking 
 at the pictures, we went into another gallery, where were all 
 kinds of curiosities from all quarters of the globe. Of these 
 I can give you no account whatever. The ceilings of all 
 the rooms we visited were beautifully painted, and the walls 
 of some of them were of marble, with mirrors reaching from 
 the floor to the ceiling. We also went into the gallery of 
 old paintings. Can you credit me, when I tell you I was 
 disappointed in these ? Am I not unfashionable? for, do 
 3 
 
26 LETTERS. 
 
 not all tourists instantaneously become imbued with a pas- 
 sion for the old masters? However, when I have seen more 
 of them, I may alter my mind on the subject. 
 
 After leavino- the Louvre, we traversed several streets, 
 crossed the Seine by a fine bridge, and walked, I know not 
 how far, but far enough to completely tire me, till we reached 
 the " Museum of the Artillery." This is a large palace, 
 built around a court. There are four galleries, each one 
 occupying one side of the building. Here were complete 
 suits of armor of various ages; helmets, shields, casques 
 and breastplates, in great numbers; cannons, guns, and 
 swords ; battle-axes, scimitars, and arrows, and all those 
 implements that make war so terrible and destructive. 
 
 On our return home, we stopped at the " Hotel des Inva- 
 lides," or retreat for disabled soldiers. This is an immense 
 building, six hundred and twelve feet long, and four stories 
 hio-h. It was erected by Louis XIV., and will accommodate 
 seven thousand persons ; at present there are but three thou- 
 sand inmates. All who are disabled by their wounds, and 
 all who have served thirty years, are entitled to admission, 
 and to spend the rest of their days there. They are 
 boarded, lodged, and clothed. They have so much allowed 
 them a day, and if they do not choose to take up all their 
 allowance, they can receive an equivalent for it in money. 
 If one has lost both of his legs, he can demand the money his 
 shoes would cost. So you see he may have some consola- 
 tion even in the loss of his limbs. All officers above the 
 rank of captain can take their meals in their rooms ; the 
 others eat in messes. In the garden we saw many old sol- 
 diers, some sitting, some walking about ; they all looked 
 healthy and happy. Doubtless some were telling over the 
 history of their campaigns. 
 
 In the rear of the " Hotel" is the church. It was being 
 repaired, so we could not tell what kind of a building it was. 
 In fact we did not go to see it for its architectural beauties; 
 it had a deeper interest for us, for there repose the remains 
 
LETTERS. 27 
 
 of Napoleon Bonaparte. The chapel, in which is his tomb, 
 is beneath the dome. Around the entrance to it, are hang- 
 ings of purple velvet. An iron-grated door leads to the 
 chapel, through the bars of which we were obliged to look. 
 Over the tomb and around the chapel, wave many banners 
 taken in battle. The walls are hung with crimson velvet, 
 on which, in many places, are embroidered in gold his coat 
 of arms, with the letter N. in the centre. His tomb is of 
 marble, on the top of which lies his crown. A strange sort 
 of awe pervaded our minds, and we felt subdued as in the pre- 
 sence of a master-spirit. We spoke in whispered tones, as 
 though we were in the very chamber of mourning, with the 
 dead before us. Once I spoke aloud, and so hushed was 
 every thing around, though there was a crowd in the church, 
 that I was actually startled by the sound of my own voice. 
 
 Yesterday morning we visited the Royal Library. The 
 outside of this building looks like an old prison. It was 
 formerly a palace, and like all other houses in Paris, whether 
 public or private, is built around a court. There are nine 
 hundred thousand volumes in this library. The books are in 
 cases, having a front of iron net-work, so that no book can 
 be touched without the consent of the Librarian. One room, 
 however, in which is a large collection of books, is set apart; 
 any one can go there and spend several hours a day, by get- 
 ting permission from the proper authorities. Adjoining the 
 principal gallery is one of medals and antiques. This in- 
 terested us much, though I should fail in attempting to give 
 you even the faintest idea of so vast a collection. 
 
 In the manuscript library, there are about eighty thousand 
 volumes. Here we saw some curious specimens of antiquity 
 in the manuscript line, before the art of book-making had 
 reached its perfection. Among these was a book written in 
 the fourth or fifth century ; it was in Latin, on dark purple 
 parchment, in letters of gold. There were also letters of 
 Henry IV., Francis I., Louis XIV., Madame de Maintenon, 
 Voltaire, Racine, Corneille, Bossuet, and the manuscript of 
 
•28 LETTERS. 
 
 Telemachus, written in a fine, clear hand (in which I thought 
 I could trace Fenelon's own pure mind), and many other 
 things, too numerous to be mentioned. There are about one 
 million six hundred thousand engravings in this library ; they 
 are not seen, except by artists and those who obtain previous 
 permission. The room was filled with those engaged in 
 copying them. 
 
 We then took a carriage, and rode to Pere la Chaise. 
 Who has not heard of this beautiful cemetery ? So gener- 
 ally is it known, that it may appear a work of supereroga- 
 tion to enter into any details respecting it ; but I will take it 
 for granted, that for the moment, they have slipped from 
 your mind, so I will jog your memory a little. 
 
 In the fourteenth century, a rich grocer, named Regnault, 
 built, on this very site, a magnificent house, which the peo- 
 ple called " Regnault's folly." After his death, a female 
 devotee bought it and presented it to the Jesuits. In the 
 time of Louis XIV. it was called " Mont Louis." That 
 monarch, being much attached to his confessor, Pere la 
 Chaise, appointed him, in 1765, superior of this community, 
 and this house then became the centre of Jesuitical power 
 in France. The building was enlarged and the grounds im- 
 proved, but on the suppression of the order of Jesuits, Mont 
 Louis was sold. After passing through several hands, it was 
 purchased by M. Frochet, prefect of the Seine, to be con- 
 verted into a cemetery. It now covers about one hundred 
 acres of land. The house was taken down, and a small 
 chapel was erected, where the funeral service is performed. 
 The gateway is adorned with funereal ornaments, and Latin 
 inscriptions from the Bible. Leading from the gate is a 
 wide avenue, from which diverge paths in every direction. 
 The trees are beautiful, and the monuments of various forms 
 and designs ; some are merely a slab of marble, and others 
 in the form of temples, chapels, pyramids, obelisks, columns, 
 altars, urns, &lc. Some of them are exquisitely beautiful ; 
 most of them are surmounted by a cross. Those in the form 
 
LETTERS. 29 
 
 of a temple have an altar inside, on which were a crucifix, 
 vases of flowers, and large silver candlesticks, in many of 
 which candles were burning. There were chairs, too, near 
 the altars, where the bereaved go and sit, and muse and 
 weep over the departed and loved ones. In many of these 
 little temples, there was a window of stained glass, which 
 threw a rich light over the polished marble. Almost all the 
 graves had garlands of flowers thrown around them. Flow- 
 ers grow all around ; no one ever seems to molest them. Is 
 it not a beautiful custom, thus to invest the home of the dead 
 with so much light and loveliness ? How much more de- 
 lightful, than to have our friends repose in some gloomy 
 place, where the sun scarcely ever seems to smile ! 
 
 As we came out, we met a procession. Two carriages 
 came first, in which were priests in their black and white 
 robes. The carriages were hung with black, and large 
 mourning plumes nodded upon the horses' heads. Then 
 came the hearse, the sides of which were looped up, so that 
 we could plainly see the coffin. It was covered with a white 
 pall, on which lay the sword and arms of the deceased. 
 Then came a number of men, dressed in the habiliments of 
 mourning, who, I supposed, were friends of the departed, 
 though they seemed any thing but mourners. A party of 
 soldiers were drawn up at the gateway, and were firing sa- 
 lutes as the funeral train passed in, which so frightened the 
 horses attached to one of the carriages, that some of the 
 priests had to get out and walk. In order that they might 
 not be behindhand, they darted through the shrubbery, 
 jumped over the bushes, cut by the trees, and so got up with 
 the hearse, laughing, and apparently as much pleased as 
 though they had performed some great feat. Now this con- 
 duct seemed neither clerical nor reverential. 
 
 As we came back, we stopped at one of the large slaughter- 
 houses erected by the city. There are five of them at dif- 
 ferent extremities of the city, as no animals are allowed to 
 3* 
 
00 LETTERS. 
 
 be driven through the streets ; all must be carried to these 
 places and killed. They are substantial stone buildings. 
 
 We also stopped on the site of the Bastille, which was 
 destroyed in 1790, during the time of the Revolution. By 
 order of Napoleon, a fountain was commenced here. The 
 design was an immense elephant of bronze, from the trunk 
 of which the water was to issue. This design was never 
 carried into execution; the plaster model of the elephant 
 stands near, to attest the grandeur of the conception. A 
 monument has been erected on the foundation of the foun- 
 tain, to commemorate those who fell in the Revolution of 
 1830, whose names are inscribed on the column. 
 
 But the splendor oRParis is seen the most in the evenings. 
 Then the shops are brilliantly illuminated, and the whole 
 population seems to be out of doors. It is like a fairy scene 
 to be on the Boulevards, and see the people walking about, 
 and sitting under the trees, sipping their ices. 
 
 This morning we rode to the Gobelins, or Royal manu- 
 factory of tapestry. Carriage hire is very reasonable here. 
 Yesterday we with our ** valet de place " rode three miles in 
 a nice carriage, with two horses, for two francs (about thirty- 
 eight cents of our money), and to-day we hired one by the 
 hour, which is equally cheap. When we got to the Gobelins 
 we found they would not be opened for spectators under a 
 half hour, so, as we lose no time in waiting, we went to the 
 "Garden of Plants." This place is not altogether what you 
 would suppose from its name, being occupied by all species 
 of the animal kingdom, as well as the vegetable world. Of 
 the ''plants" I shall say nothing, for the best of all reasons, 
 that I have nothing to say, as we examined only that part of 
 the garden devoted to the animals. These are collected from 
 all parts of the world. Each species has a separate en- 
 closure, within which is a covered recess for them to go into 
 at night, or in stormy weather. The more ferocious kinds 
 are kept in pits, which are walled up perpendicularly, and 
 are left open, so that we could look down upon them. There 
 
LETTERS. 31 
 
 is a large enclosure for the birds, surrounded by a network 
 of fine wire, giving them free scope to walk, hop, or fly. 
 Among them I noticed peacocks, some clear white, others 
 with splendid plumage, beautiful pheasants, spotted with 
 blue, and scarlet, and yellow, and birds of every clime and 
 every hue ; some sweetly singing, others flying about and 
 beating their wiry caging, as though struggling to be 
 free. 
 
 Our half hour having expired, we went back to the Gobe- 
 lins, so called from men of that name, who in the fifteenth 
 century were famous in dyeing wools. Under Louis XIV. 
 the establishment was bought and converted into a royal 
 manufactory. Here are most beautiful specimens of art, 
 exceeding in vividness and richness of coloring any painting 
 I ever saw. The workman is seated behind his frame, with 
 his model, a painting, back of him, to which he constantly 
 turns. All the ends being fastened on the wrong side, it is 
 necessary for him to be behind the frame ; the front presents 
 an even surface. There are several different designs ; some, 
 flowers for the bordering of walls, some, full-length portraits, 
 others, Scripture scenes, such as Christ giving the keys of 
 Heaven to St. Peter, the death of Ananias, Paul preaching 
 at Athens, and some historical and mythological pieces. 
 The execution of these is most perfect. The pieces are of 
 a large size, sufficient to reach from the ceiling to the floor 
 of a room. It is very slow and expensive work, a piece not 
 being completed in less than five or six years, and costing 
 about eighteen or twenty thousand francs. A full length 
 portrait of Louis Philippe has been commenced ; but little 
 has been done as yet, although more than a year has been 
 consumed upon it, and it will probably take three or four 
 more. There is also a portrait of the Queen, and of her 
 sons. 
 
 Connected with this, is the royal carpet manufactory. 
 Here are the most beautiful carpets in the world ; they look 
 more like pictures wrought on velvet, than like carpets. 
 
32 LETTERS. 
 
 They are very large, and several years are consumed in mak- 
 ing one. This work is done on the right side, because the 
 surface of the carpet is a little raised like tufted work ; the 
 ends are nicely clipped, the colors are varied, the designs 
 beautiful, and the finishing perfect. They are very expen- 
 sive, one costing frequently one hundred thousand francs, or 
 twenty thousand dollars. They are never sold, but are used 
 in the royal palaces, and sometimes one is presented by Louis 
 Philippe to some king or distinguished man. Oh! but 
 did 'nt I wish at the moment, that I had some claims upon 
 his notice ? 
 
 On our return, we stopped at the Palais Royal. This is 
 a very large palace, built around a court, which is planted 
 with trees, and laid out in walks. In the centre is a foun- 
 tain, whose incessant play of waters, produces that pleasant 
 humming, gurgling sound, so delightful to the ear. This 
 court is divided into two by a splendid arcade, the sides and 
 top of which are of glass. In the evening, when it is lit up, 
 it has a most brilliant appearance. Here are some of the 
 most beautiful shops in Paris; they are small, but the arti- 
 cles in them are most tastefully arranged. Around the whole 
 court runs an arched portico, sustained by pillars. Here are 
 fashionable cafes, toy and jewelry shops, and every thing is 
 seen that can please the eye, or open the purse. This forms 
 a great promenade in a wet day, as one is quite secluded 
 from the rain. Around the smaller court, are the rooms for- 
 merly occupied by the royal family. They are approached 
 by a magnificent flight of stairs, with carved iron railings. 
 There are several rooms open for visitors, the furniture of 
 which is most splendid. There are no carpets, but the floors 
 are of polished oak, in small diamond panes. In each room 
 there is a large chandelier, besides stands for candles on the 
 mantel-pieces and around the walls. In some of the rooms, 
 the walls are of marble; in others they are covered on one 
 side with beautiful paintings, and on the other with immense 
 mirrors, and in others still they are hung with flowered satin 
 
LETTERS. 33 
 
 or damask of different colors, the chairs and sofas being cov- 
 ered with the same material as the walls. The throne room 
 is the richest of all ; its walls are hung with crimson velvet, 
 and the chairs covered with the same. The throne is raised 
 two steps from the floor, and is also covered with red velvet ; 
 over it is a canopy of the same material. The chair of state 
 is covered with crimson velvet, and has the crown embroider- 
 ed in gold on the cushion and the back. All the other chairs 
 are embroidered with gold. I wanted to sit in the chair of 
 state, that, republican as I am, I might say I had for once sat 
 on the throne of a king, but the crusty old guide would not 
 let me. Like Lucy's lamb in the story book, " that was 
 against the rule," though doubtless he was quite unac- 
 quainted with that poetic effusion. On either side of the 
 throne is a magnificent candelabra. In every room is a 
 clock, each differing from the other in design and workman- 
 ship. The floor and walls of the dining-room are of beau- 
 tiful colored marble. Cool, I should imagine. Servants in 
 royal livery were in every room. This palace is at present 
 occupied only when some foreign prince visits Paris, when 
 it is assigned to him as a place of residence. 
 
 And so end our '* three days " in Paris. Have we not 
 been expeditious in accomplishing thus much 1 Wherever I 
 go, it is with pencil and paper in hand, that I may instantly 
 note down any thing that strikes my attention. But the 
 guides so hurry you about, that you have scarcely time to 
 give a look at one thing, before they call your attention to 
 another. But what a long letter ! Really I must fancy it is 
 as pleasant for you to read these letters of mine, as it is for 
 me to see the objects which are described in them. You 
 will probably not hear from me again till we are some ways 
 advanced towards the sunny south. Oh ! by the way, I must 
 not forget to tell you that we are to have a companion in our 
 future travels. When we came home to-day, we found on 
 
 our table the card of a Mr. D , of Boston. While we 
 
 were conjecturing who it could be, the servant announced 
 
34 LETTERS. 
 
 the very gentleman. He brought us a note of introduction 
 from the American consul, and as soon as the first compli- 
 ments were over, turned to me with a comical expression, 
 and said, " I think I '11 count those stairs as I go down." I 
 laughed, and told him I would spare him the trouble, and so 
 gave him the number. He said he had but eighty where he 
 staid, and thought that was quite enough, but to think of 
 adding forty more, was really too much. His object in call- 
 ing was to see what day we were to start for Italy, that he 
 might accompany us, as he is alone, and thought it would be 
 pleasanter to have some companions. He had his passport 
 signed for Tuesday, but thought he would be able to get it 
 changed in season to go with us on Monday, and soon after 
 he sent word to us that he had engaged a seat in the Dili- 
 gence, in which we are to go. But, " now indeed, good 
 night ! " 
 
 Paris, April 26. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 When I closed my letter on Saturday evening, I little 
 thought of writing you again so soon, but as we do not leave 
 here till two o'clock this afternoon, I have a little time to 
 spare ; in fact, 1 can do nothing else, as every thing is packed 
 up excepting my writing materials, which I always have at 
 hand. 
 
 I shall now tell you of our Sunday in Paris. We went in 
 the morning to the cathedral church of Notre Dame. I shall 
 not enter into the details of its architecture, but shall simply 
 write about those things that particularly took my attention. 
 It is an ancient looking edifice, with two square towers in 
 front, and is built in the form of a cross ; and here I will 
 merely say for your edification, (for you may be laboring 
 under the same mistake that I have been,) that the term 
 
LETTERS. 35 
 
 " form of the cross," by no means applies to the exterior of 
 the building ; on the contrary, that may look like a square, 
 a parallelogram, or in fact any thing but a cross, but it is the 
 interior which is in this form. 
 
 The ceiling of this church is arched, and is supported by 
 pillars, four feet in diameter, and nearly one hundred in 
 height. That which lies under the loftiest part of the ceil- 
 ing, lengthwise between the pillars, or, in other words, that 
 which forms the upright part of the cross, is called the nave ; 
 the head of the cross forms the choir, within which is the 
 chancel, and the arms of the cross are called the tran- 
 septs. 
 
 I give you these technical definitions, because, in the 
 course of our journey, we shall see many churches, and this 
 little explanation will answer once for all. Along the side 
 aisles are many little chapels, separated from the body of the 
 church, by a low iron railing ; each chapel has its own altar, 
 dedicated to some particular saint. 
 
 As you enter the arched doorway of Notre Dame, and lock 
 up through the church, the perspective is very grand. No- 
 thing can be more imposing than its style of architecture, 
 with its lengthened aisles, its massive pillars, its vaulted ceil- 
 ing and its many tinted rays of light, which come streaming 
 in through the richly painted glass. No church in France 
 is richer in historical associations than this, for within its 
 consecrated walls, have occurred many soul-stirring events. 
 Here have been solemnized marriages, on which depended 
 the fate of nations ; here have been baptized infants, in 
 whose veins flowed the blood of a long line of princes, and 
 here, too, have been crowned those monarchs, whose eventful 
 reigns have thrown so much of light and shade, of glory and 
 shame over France. 
 
 The streets of Paris presented a lively scene yesterday. 
 The shops and cafes were open ; crowds of people in their 
 holiday attire were walking about ; there was nothing to re- 
 mind one of the holy Sabbath, but every thing bore rather 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 the appearance of a festal day, and already we tire of its 
 noise and bustle, and sigh for a peaceful Sabbath in our own 
 land. But it is time for us to go to the Diligence office; so 
 now adieu. Yours ever. 
 
 Lyons, April 28lh. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Here we are in this dirtiest of dirty towns ; for of all nasty, 
 dusty places I was ever in, I think Lyons exceeds all. We 
 arrived here this afternoon about two o'clock, thus being two 
 days and two nights on the way, and yet I did not find the 
 ride so very tiresome. The road was good, and we rattled 
 along at the rate of eight or nine miles an hour, stopping 
 occasionally to get refreshments, which were by no means of 
 the choicest or most inviting kind. Not more than five or 
 ten minutes were allowed for dinner, and then three or four 
 francs were charged us, as though we had made a full 
 meal. 
 
 The country was pleasant and in a good state of cultiva- 
 tion. As we passed along, we saw vineyards in every direc- 
 tion, covering the sunny plains and sloping hills. Now I 
 know you will think I was rather " green," when I tell you 
 that I always thought the vine here was trained to grow over 
 a sort of trellis work, as with us, but very different was the 
 reality from my supposition. The vines are planted in rows, 
 at regular intervals of four or five feet, and they are trained 
 to run upon stakes placed upright in the ground. Although 
 these vineyards, at this early season, presented a barren ap- 
 pearance, yet they must have a beautiful aspect when covered 
 with bright green leaves and clustering grapes. 
 
 We passed through many villages, which, for the most 
 part, presented a wretched, squalid appearance. The houses 
 were of stone, and bore the marks of antiquity and great 
 
LETTERS. 37 
 
 strength, being probably built at the period when it was ne- 
 cessary to make every house a fortress. All these villages 
 were surrounded by strong walls. The men were loitering 
 about with pipes in their mouths, apparently having nothing 
 to do, but to stare at us as we passed ; the women were sitting 
 by the doors of their houses, sometimes knitting or sewing, 
 and sometimes spinning. 
 
 We were molested by beggars all along the road. Every 
 time we stopped, every hill we ascended, we were over- 
 whelmed by entreaties for charity. We were besought " by 
 the love of Heaven," " by the love of our own souls," " by 
 a wish to save them from starving," to give, give. At one 
 time, as we were going up a steep hill, a little boy ran along 
 by the side of the Diligence, cutting up all kinds of capers 
 and gambols to gain attention, and, what was of more conse- 
 quence to him, money. I was lying back on my seat, but 
 hearing our fellow passengers laugh at some of his antics, I 
 raised my head to see what was going on. No sooner did 
 the little fellow see me, than instantly his cap was up in the 
 air, and he shouted, " long live the beautiful lady." Now 
 as you well know, I have ever been called any thing but 
 beautiful, so I thought the boy's discernment was to be priz- 
 ed, and I handed him out a sous, which threw him into a 
 perfect ecstasy of delight, and the last words I heard were 
 praises of " the beautiful lady." 
 
 This morningr, at Chalons, we left the Diligence, and took 
 a steamboat down the Saone. The banks of the river are 
 low but very beautiful, though now the country is suffering 
 from a late inundation, which carried off many houses, and 
 left others standing in a ruined state. There were several 
 priests on board, with one of whom I had quite a conversa- 
 tion. It was the first time I had dared to say much to any 
 one in French, but I found myself so easily understood, that 
 the strings of my tongue were at once unloosed, (" little need 
 of that," say you,) arid I have since rattled on with any one 
 and every one, without regard to grammar or dictionary. 
 4 
 
do LETTERS. 
 
 But the Romish priest, for his first question, asked me if I 
 was a Catholic, and when he heard my answer, he edged off 
 a little, but I was not for letting him go so easily ; so I 
 began to tell him about many things in my own country, 
 which pleased him much. Still he returned to the subject 
 of my faith, and when he heard I was going to Rome, he 
 said, *' Ah ! when you have been to Rome, and seen the 
 Pope, and received his blessing, you will return a good Ca- 
 tholic ; " so dear friends, look out. 
 
 After taking an early dinner here, we took a carriage and 
 rode round to see the city. We visited the Museum, but I 
 shall not inflict upon you a description of the things we there 
 saw, the altars, sacrificial vases, ancient lamps, house- 
 hold gods, and weapons of warfare, found in the old city 
 Lugdunum, on whose site now stands the present town. 
 
 Lyons is finely situated on the two rivers, Saone and 
 Rhone, near their junction. It is now principally celebrated 
 for its manufacture of silks. The country around Lyons is 
 exceedingly mountainous. High hills overshadow the banks 
 of the rivers ; lofty mountains raise their snow-capped sum- 
 mits in the distance. On one of the hills is a telegraph, 
 which communicates with the south of France on the one 
 side, and with Paris on the other. 
 
 In our rides we passed the '* Hotel de Ville," (answering 
 to our apellation, "town-house,") and the ** Hotel Dieu," 
 said to be one of the best hospitals in France, where an or- 
 der of nuns, about one hundred and fifty in number, perform 
 the office of nurses. 
 
 We start early to-morrow morning for Avignon, and as to- 
 night I anticipate the luxury of a bed, which for two nights 
 has been denied me, you will pardon me for making this let- 
 ter a short one ; so, good night. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 Avignon, Saturday, May 1st. 
 My dearest P. : 
 
 Two days only have elapsed since I sent off my last letter, 
 and yet, behold another already begun. Will you not give me 
 the credit of being a voluminous correspondent ? You will 
 perceive I take up no room with compliments or sentiment, 
 but proceed at once to tell you about " the things which I 
 saw," so think me not abrupt, if I begin directly with the 
 subject-matter of my letters. 
 
 We left Lyons about half past four Thursday morning, in a 
 steamer for this city. It is a delightful sail down the Rhone. 
 The day was charming, and the country around us beautiful. 
 The boat was full of passengers, and we glided swiftly along 
 on our destined way. This river runs with an amazing ra- 
 pidity, having a current of nearly twelve miles an hour. 
 
 Mountains and hills encompassed us on either side. On 
 many a precipitous crag were perched ancient castles, whose 
 walls, even now, after the lapse of ages, seem to defy the 
 elements. Around them were grouped the cottages of the 
 serfs, and all were surrounded by a massive wall. These, 
 undoubtedly, were some of those old feudal castles, whose 
 descriptions have so often met our eyes in the histories and 
 romances of the middle ages. Often a picturesque little 
 church was seen, covered with time-honored moss, and on 
 many elevated spots, crosses were visible, seeming almost to 
 touch the heavens to which they pointed. 
 
 There are many bridges over the Rhone ; some are sus- 
 pension, and others are of stone, whose solid piers and arches 
 would seem to defy the force of this mighty current, and yet 
 we occasionally passed one whose ruins showed that even 
 such strength could not resist the rushing waters. The boat 
 easily passed under these bridges, by just lowering the pipe, 
 so that it inclined horizontally to the deck. In many places 
 a rope was extended across the river, about the height of the 
 bridges, so that those passing over in boats, were kept from 
 
40 LETTERS. 
 
 being carried down the stream, by the use of boat-hooks, with 
 which they hold on to the ropes. As we passed under a bridge 
 near Valence, another boat came along. While I was sitting 
 on deck, and thinking how finely the boats looked going along 
 so rapidly, J. ran to me, caught hold of me, and said, "run 
 to the other side of the boat, quick." I started up, thinking 
 there was some fine view to be seen, but before I could turn 
 round, the truth flashed upon me, that the other boat was 
 running into us. Twice the boats came in collision, with a 
 force that almost threw me off my feet; but, providentially, 
 our boat escaped unhurt, while the other broke one of her 
 wheels. Thus have we a renewed instance of the kind care 
 of Him who never slumbers or sleeps. Who can tell but at 
 that very moment the prayers of some dear ones at home, 
 were going up for our safety ? And He who heareth prayer, 
 heard and answered, and we were permitted unscathed to go 
 on. 
 
 Before we got to Avignon we passed under a most beauti- 
 ful bridge, three thousand feet long. It is a succession of 
 solid stone arches, and was built by a community of monks, 
 in the neighborhood, who devoted to this purpose a large 
 sum of money offered at the shrine " of the Holy Ghost; " 
 and is hence called " Pont St. Esprit." It was commenced 
 in 1265 and finished in 1309. 
 
 Before I forget it, I must tell you the singular way in 
 which these steamboats are steered. Instead of a wheel, 
 there is a large rudder, at which four or five men constantly 
 stand. Around the tiller, two ropes are fastened, one at the 
 right side of the boat and the other at the left, and the right 
 or left rope is pulled according to the way in which the boat 
 is to go. Now a wheel with one man, or sometimes two, 
 would seem all-sufficient, and would save this immense deal 
 of labor. 
 
 All along the banks of this river are marks of the late in- 
 undation. As it is fed by mountain torrents, it, of course, 
 rises very rapidly in the spring, when the snows on the 
 
LETTERS. 41 
 
 mountains begin to melt. Early last season, the priests pro- 
 claimed to the people that an inundation was to take place, 
 and that the world was coming to an end. Business, labor, 
 every thing were suspended ; houses and lands were sold, and 
 the money given to the priests. One day, the wife of the 
 engineer of the boat in which we were, went to a small town 
 to buy provisions. After she had been gone about two hours, 
 she came back in great distress, and without making any 
 purchases. Her husband asked her what was the matter. 
 With many sobs she told him the world was coming to an 
 end, for the priests had said so. He then asked her where 
 were the provisions. She had none, she could procure none, 
 as the meat shops were all closed. Where then was her 
 money? She had given it away ! for she said, " of what use 
 would the money be if the world was coming to an end ? " 
 Now how strange it is, that, in this enlightened age, priests, 
 many of them illiterate men, should gain such an ascendancy 
 over the minds of the people ! Yet this is a well authenti- 
 cated fact, and we have like instances of such influences 
 even in our own country. 
 
 Avignon is a collection of ruins and ancient buildincrs. 
 In its day, it doubtless was a great place, but now, " Icha- 
 bod," may be written on its walls, for its glory hath departed. 
 As soon as we had brushed up a little, we procured a guide, 
 and walked out to view the wonders of the town. As we 
 could not find one who spoke English, I had to make the 
 most of my French, and to be interpreter for all our party ; 
 as J. and Mr. D. speak French but little. We went into 
 the Museum, where was a collection that would feast an an- 
 tiquary, — heads without bodies, bodies without heads, arms 
 and legs without bodies, bodies without arms and legs, busts 
 of Roman emperors, old coins, sacrificial vases, urns in 
 which the ashes of great men had been deposited, ancient 
 sarcophagi, mummies, and I can't tell what besides. We 
 saw also some poetry in Petrarch's own hand, the will of Louis 
 XVI., some leaves of ancient manuscripts, and many beau- 
 4* 
 
42 LETTERS. 
 
 tiful pictures, among which were two portraits of Petrarch, 
 and two of Laura. There were marks of the late inunda- 
 tion of the Rhone all about the lower floor of this building, 
 the water having come up as high as the windows. In the 
 court were many roses in full bloom, though only the 29th 
 of April. Seeing me admiring them, the keeper of the Mu- 
 seum picked one and gave me, remarking that the roses 
 there had but little fragrance, which I found to be the case. 
 He also gave me a branch of myrtle, which, when rubbed in 
 the hands, emits a delightful odor, and a piece of the laurel 
 with which poets were formerly crowned, but, (oh ! what a 
 desecration !) it is now only used to give a rich taste to 
 cream. 
 
 We visited the tomb of Laura, which is in a garden, where 
 once stood a large church. This little spot, consecrated by 
 having been the resting place of her who is immortalized by 
 the poetry of Petrarch, is surrounded by cypress and willow 
 trees, which seem to keep a close guard over beauty's sleep. 
 A priest, with a fine, intelligent face, showed us around the 
 garden, which is laid out in pretty style, though it then was 
 suffering from the inundation of the river. On my asking 
 him for a piece of cypress that grew over the tomb of Laura, 
 he broke off several sprigs and gave them to me. I told him 
 I should take them home to my own country, at which he 
 seemed much pleased. He also went with us into an ancient 
 and dilapidated church, one part of which is now used as a 
 manufactory of velvet, and the other is occupied by shoe- 
 makers. I asked the priest how it happened that so noble a 
 church was thus desecrated. "Ah!" said he, and a deep 
 shade of melancholy crossed his fine features, " 't was the 
 Revolution caused all this." 
 
 As we came out, after Mr. D. had slipped into his hands 
 a piece of money, he handed me a little engraving of the 
 tomb of Laura, saying, " Here is a little gift for Madame." 
 *' Madame " was profuse in her thanks, and told him she 
 should carry it to America, and tell her friends who gave it 
 
LETTERS. 43 
 
 to her. With his hand on his heart, and with many bows, 
 we separated. 
 
 We visited the Cathedral, but I shall not give you any de- 
 scription of it, only saying that, like all other things in Avig- 
 non, it has probably seen its best days. It is, however, still 
 rich in paintings and old relics. 
 
 The streets of Avignon are narrow and dirty, and such a 
 set of ugly, barking dogs, I never before saw in any one 
 place. The whole city is surrounded by a high and solid 
 wall, which looks as well able to defy armies now, as it did 
 four hundred years ago. 
 
 Yesterday we took a most delightful ride to the fountain 
 of Vaucluse, about fifteen miles from here. It is celebrated 
 not only for its natural beauties, but for being the place 
 where Petrarch wrote many of his sonnets to Laura. The 
 country was enchanting, and the day lovely. The road was 
 bordered by trees, which, however, are kept so closely trim- 
 med, as to give them an artificial appearance. The haw- 
 thorn was in full bloom ; its little white blossoms, and the 
 wild flowers around, loaded the air with fragrance. Once 
 when we stopped to admire a fine prospect, our coachman 
 went to the roadside, and picked a bunch of flowers and 
 several sprigs of hawthorn, and brought them very modestly 
 to J., and told him they were for Madame. I tell you this 
 little incident, to show the natural politeness of the lower 
 classes of people. Mountains were all around us, some of 
 whose summits were crowned with snow, while we were 
 under the clear blue sky, and the bright sun of a warm day. 
 Our road often ran near the Sorgia, which comes from the 
 vale of Vaucluse, and empties into the Rhone near Avignon. 
 As we drew nearer that delightful vale, the mountains encir- 
 cled us more closely, till at last they appeared to hem us en- 
 tirely in. Then the Sorgia came rushing by, dancing in the 
 sunlight more briskly than ever. We followed the river up 
 to its source, it every moment becoming more narrow and 
 rapid as it bounded over the rocks, eager to escape its un- 
 
44 LETTERS. 
 
 easy bed. At last we came to the fountain. It comes 
 directly from under the mountain, forming a little lake, which 
 lay before us in placid beauty. We climbed partially up an 
 almost inaccessible hill, being often obliged to make our way 
 on our hands and knees, till I thought there would be left 
 neither leather on my shoes nor kid on my gloves. When 
 we started to go up, we left Mr. D. sitting beside the foun- 
 tain, but no sooner had we reached the height for which we 
 had been toiling, than we saw him, with his characteristic 
 perseverance, coming puffing and panting after us. He said 
 he could not submit to be outdone even by young folks like 
 us. We seated ourselves on an overhanging rock, and 
 looked down on the sweet vale below us. On this very spot 
 had Petrarch often sat, and invoked his muse in favor of his 
 lovely and adored Laura, making the rocks resound with that 
 name which so often dwelt upon his lips. He used to call 
 this vale his transalpine paradise, and confessed that he was 
 almost angry to find any thing so beautiful out of his beloved 
 Italy, for fear it might weaken his love for his native land. 
 
 The fountain seemed to rest at our very feet, and though 
 farther down it leaped, and dashed, and foamed like a cata- 
 ract, yet here it lay as still as though its peaceful bosom was 
 never ruffled by a breeze. When we came down, we picked 
 some flowers that grew by the fountain's edge, and drank 
 deeply of its waters ; but alas ! for me, and for you too, no 
 poetic inspiration followed the draught, even of the water of 
 a fountain so celebrated. 
 
 Sweet vale of Vaucluse, farewell ! a long farewell ! for I 
 may never again look on thy smiling beauties, but oft in my 
 dreams, and in my reminiscences of by-gone days, will thy 
 quiet fountain and rippling stream come before me, and I 
 shall long to tread once more the delightful spot consecrated 
 to genius, poetry and beauty. 
 
 In returning to Avignon, we saw the peasantry engaged 
 in their various occupations. Women were at work in 
 the fields and by the roadside, the cap of the north of 
 
LETTERS. 45 
 
 France displaced by the large gipsey hat, sometimes of straw, 
 and sometimes of black stuff resembling felt. We met many 
 riding or leading their little donkeys, which had, as usual, 
 large panniers slung across their backs. Some were sitting 
 by the roadside, knitting while their donkeys were eating, 
 and others we saw knitting as they walked along. Some were 
 washing their clothes in the Sorgia ; all looked happy and 
 contented, and oh ! who could feel otherwise in the midst of 
 so fiiir a landscape and under such a sky ! 
 
 After breakfast this morning, we crossed the river, and 
 passing through a small village, came to the castle Ville- 
 neuve, which stands on a high hill, and commands a fine 
 prospect. Around the castle were little cottages, and all 
 were surrounded by a wall, like those castles we saw on the 
 Rhone. The entrance was guarded by two towers, in both 
 of which were loopholes, so that the sentry might see all who 
 came near. We went up to the top of one of these towers, 
 and had a most beautiful view of the country around. We 
 saw the snow-capped mountains, and those that overshadow 
 the sweet waters of Vauclase. Beneath our feet lay the city 
 of Avignon, with its turreted wall, and Gothic spires, and 
 ancient palaces, and around it the smiling valley of the 
 Rhone. 
 
 As we came down from the tower, we visited the prison 
 rooms of the castle. The walls were of immense thickness, 
 and before the windows was a double iron grating, and the 
 doors had strong locks and bolts. In the door was a little 
 opening, through which the food was formerly passed. 
 
 After we recrossed the river, we went into the palace 
 formerly occupied by the Pope, when the seat of papal power 
 was removed to Avignon. Our object was not, however, to 
 see the remains of its former magnificence, but merely to 
 visit the prison within its walls. In one part of this palace 
 was formerly held that horrible invention of the Romish 
 church, the Inquisition. Here we saw some of the instru- 
 ments of torture, the remembrance of which even now 
 
46 LETTERS. 
 
 freezes the blood in my veins. We were also shown a large 
 stone box, in which those who had undergone torture with- 
 out confession, were burnt. In the floor were trap-doors, 
 leading down to the subterranean dungeons, which, when 
 opened, emitted a stream of damp and noisome air. Oh, the 
 scenes of horror and misery these walls have witnessed ! 
 Could they all be brought to light, what a dark page in the 
 history of human nature would be unfolded to our view ! 
 
 We have at length gone through with sight-seeing in 
 Avignon, and are now waiting to take the Diligence for Mar- 
 seilles, which leaves this afternoon. On the whole, I have 
 been exceedingly interested in this city. Its richness in 
 historic and poetic associations, the delightful country 
 around, its ancient walls, its ruined palaces and churches, 
 all give it a peculiar charm to my eye. 
 
 But now once more, adieu. 
 
 Marseilles, Monday. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Through scenes of tribulation and discomfort, we arrived 
 at this place. Although but twelve hours' ride from Avig- 
 non, it was about as unpleasant a journey as I ever took. 
 The Diligence was exceedingly small, so that six in the 
 "Interieur," made a real jam, and there were but two win- 
 dows, so that we suffered much for fresh air. Opposite to 
 me sat one fat soldier, and next to me another. They were 
 on their way to Africa, and had just taken a parting dinner 
 with some of their friends. I wish you could have seen the 
 leave-taking at the Diligence office. Although they were of 
 the sterner sex, you would have said they made more fuss 
 than the women generally do on such occasions. Embraces, 
 kisses, even tears abounded. At last the tender scene was 
 over, and we started. The soldiers soon forgot their sor- 
 
LETTERS. 47 
 
 rows in sleep, but from their open mouths proceeded such 
 an odor of liquor and tobacco, as really to overpower me. 
 
 We plodded slowly along, over a poor and hilly road, the 
 heat and close air at times exceedingly oppressive, and then 
 as we ascended some steep hill, a blast from the mountains 
 would come so cold, as to cause us to wrap our cloaks close- 
 ly around us, and to draw our travelling caps well down over 
 our ears, but by the time this operation was well performed, 
 we were again almost suffocated by the heat. Then dark- 
 ness came on, and we had to ride some time in the night. 
 And as if all this was not enough thoroughly to exhaust me, 
 I began to feel a dreadful cold coming upon me, so that by 
 the time 1 got to this place, I was, as Mr. once patheti- 
 cally observed, " tired, fatigued, emaciated, worn out, and 
 sick." And yet, for all this dreary ride, we had to pay but 
 six francs each, which was misery cheaply bought. 
 
 But now amid the glorious scenes before us, with the 
 mountains and the sea around us, and the bright blue sky 
 above us, we are led to forget all past troubles, and once 
 more to look forward with joy and eagerness to future pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 Finding there was no English church in this city, we yes- 
 terday resolved to spend a quiet day in our rooms. But who 
 can reckon upon a quiet Sunday in France. Opposite our 
 windows are two cafes, in both of which the sound of bil- 
 liards and dice was heard the whole day and till a late hour 
 at night. All sorts of noises, vulgarly yclept music, were 
 constantly heard ; men there were with hand organs, and 
 children with violins and tamborines. At one time there 
 were three children under our windows ; one played on a 
 violin, and the othei^two, a boy and a girl, danced. They 
 went through the figures of a beautiful dance even to the 
 waltz and gallopade ; but ah ! what grace could there be in 
 dancing on stone pavements and in wooden shoes ? Then 
 came quite a large girl, well dressed and rather pretty, with 
 a violin in her hand. She boldly entered one of the cafes, 
 
48 LETTERS. 
 
 and after playing a few tunes, marched round the room, 
 holding out a little cup for sous. Then there were flower 
 girls with their little nosegays to sell. They would take a 
 rose, fix it in a gentleman's coat, and then hold out their 
 hands for their pay. With such sounds and such scenes 
 around us, we could find no rest, so toward night we walked 
 out. But we soon returned to our rooms, well satisfied that 
 we could find as much quiet there, as any where. We pass- 
 ed several cafes, where on elevated seats in the back part of 
 the room, were women dressed in theatrical attire, who were 
 singing loudly in order to attract customers, but I must say 
 in palliation, that this was seen only in those cafes that have 
 not the highest claims to respectability. In no one of the 
 first class cafes would the most delicate female witness any 
 thing to shock her sense of propriety. 
 
 Every where in the streets and in the houses, we heard 
 music and dancing, and then such narrow, dirty streets, you 
 can have no idea how filthy every thing is. The streets are 
 so narrow and the houses so high, that the air is constantly 
 close and impure. We were much struck at the sight of the 
 different nations we met ; here were the dark-eyed Italian, 
 the olive-brown Spaniard and Portuguese, the Greek and 
 the Turk in their loose trowsers, the Chinese and Persian in 
 their long flowing robes, and the dark African, and all speak- 
 ing their own tongues, almost led us to fancy that we were 
 carried back to the very tower of Babel. 
 
 This morning we walked to a fort on the top of a high hill, 
 overlooking the city and the sea. It was a hard walk, up 
 steps cut out of the solid rock, but the view from so com- 
 manding a height amply repaid us for our trouble. In a little 
 observatory attached to this fort, a mariPis constantly on the 
 look-out for vessels entering the harbor. As soon as he sees 
 one afar off" in the distance, and discerns by his telescope 
 her name and where she is from, he communicates his intel- 
 ligence by signals ; this is immediately telegraphed, so that 
 in connection with the telegraph in Lyons, of which I before 
 
LETTERS. 49 
 
 spoke, in a short time information arrives in Paris of what is 
 going on in this distant port. We looked through the teles- 
 cope, and were surprised at the ease with which we saw ob- 
 jects that were entirely invisible to the naked eye. A light- 
 house, six leagues off, seemed close at hand, and a little fort 
 four miles distant, lay at our very feet. 
 
 From this hill the view, as I said before, is very fine. 
 Mountains were around us, some with bare and rock-ribbed 
 summits, others covered with trees, with white houses and 
 cottages ever and anon peeping out, as from a hiding place. 
 The harbor of Marseilles, as your geography will tell you, is 
 one of the best in the world. The largest ships go up to the 
 very wharves, and unload their cargoes at the doors of the 
 warehouses, and as there is no variation in the tide, vessels 
 come in and go out at any hour. Ships from almost every 
 port are here seen ; there are always as many as six hundred 
 in the harbor at once, and often a thousand. 
 
 We took a nice little boat this morning, and sailed down, 
 to visit the steamers about starting for Naples. We selected 
 the Castor, which leaves on Wednesday. We were careful 
 to choose an English built boat, and one too which has an 
 Ensflish engineer, as I have no confidence in goincr with a 
 rattle-headed Frenchman, or Italian. 
 
 This afternoon we took a ride round the city and envi- 
 rons. We stopped at the office of the " Board of Health,'" 
 the windows of which have an iron netting before them. 
 Here letters and packages are brought from vessels lying at 
 quarantine ground, and dipped in vinegar before sent into 
 the city. We rode to the seashore, by the new road not yet 
 completed. It is called " The Prado," and is three miles 
 long, and turns but once from the city to the sea. It is very 
 wide, and is lined with a double row of trees, and no houses 
 are allowed to be built on either side, except in one partic- 
 ular style. All must stand at just such a distance from the 
 road, and must have an open fence in front. When com- 
 pleted, it will be one of the finest promenades in Europe. 
 5 
 
50 LETTERS. 
 
 We got out of the carriage and walked some time on the 
 beach. The clear blue water came in with a soft, lulling 
 sound. The last rays of the sun threw their red light over 
 the scene: then came the peaceful twilight, and the vast ex- 
 panse of water seemed to sleep. The stars, like angels' eyes 
 looked down, and surely it was a scene meet for their pure 
 gaze. But perhaps you do not love the sea as I do, so I "11 
 e'en forbear. 
 
 And now, wearied nature demands repose ; so good night, 
 to you, and all the dear ones around you. 
 
 Wednesday morning. 
 
 I went out but little yesterday, as J. and Mr. D. were en- 
 gaged for a long time in seeing about the passports. Though 
 signed by almost every Consul and Minister in Paris, yet 
 they were obliged to pay the American Consul here ten 
 francs a-piece for his signature, and he told them for their 
 consolation, that this M^as but the beginning of trouble and 
 expense in the passport line. Well, be that as it may, thus 
 far we have had so little trouble, that we must not grumble 
 if we suffer some inconvenience hereafter. 
 
 W^e walked last evening to the Cemetery which is quite 
 prettily laid out. There are three separate enclosures, the 
 Protestant, Romish and Jewish, divided from each other by 
 a high wall. The three faiths are kept as distinct after death 
 as before ; there is no mingling one with another. 
 
 We had a good deal of fun yesterday at dinner. Two 
 Englishmen sat opposite to us, who expressed much sympathy 
 for the ignorance of those who would get up from table after 
 eating a hearty dinner, and go out walking or riding; declar- 
 inor that no one oucrht to move from the table till he had sat 
 there three hours at least. I thought they probably had not 
 such a " budget of letters " to fill out as I had, or they would 
 not feel like sparing so much time. 
 
 We are now in readiness to go to the steamer. Every 
 thing is packed up, and the man has come to take our bag- 
 gage; so once more I leave you. Yours, ever. 
 
LETTERS. 51 
 
 Genoa, May 7. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Well, here we are in " a fine fix," kept fi-om pursuing 
 our journey, and all arising fi-om that vexing passport. Not- 
 withstanding the composure with which I received the Con- 
 sul's announcement on Tuesday, that we must expect trouble 
 befi)re we got much farther, you see I have already quite lost 
 my patience. But this is not an orthodox way of telling a 
 story, so I will e'en begin at the beginning. We were on 
 board the steamer Wednesday morning, with our usual punc- 
 tuality, by twelve o'clock, at which time she was advertised 
 to sail. We did not get away however, until after two. 
 The sun was so intensely hot, that I could stay on deck but 
 a little while after we started, so I went to the cabin, laid 
 down and slept till evening. When I awoke, the boat was 
 rolling and pitching about, the waves were roaring and dash- 
 ing around us, the wind was howling, and all this with the 
 rumbling of the engine, produced a terrible and almost deaf- 
 ening noise. I arose and went on deck. The sky was per- 
 fectly black, not a star was to be seen, and the sea looked as 
 dark; and threatening as the sky ; so I went back to the cabin, 
 read awhile in a Boston newspaper, which was given me in 
 Marseilles, and which, by the way, was the first American 
 newspaper I had seen since I left home, and then went to my 
 berth again. When next I awoke, we were in the harbor of 
 Genoa. Soon we were summoned on deck. It was a beau- 
 tiful morning; the blue sea lay stretched around us, bearing 
 not an impress of the last night's storm. We were surround- 
 ed by a multitude of small boats, waiting for the consent of 
 the authorities to take us ashore. In one boat sat a health 
 officer, who with a huge pair of tongs, took the papers the 
 captain sent him. After he had looked over them, we were 
 made to pass before him in a row, the captain counting us 
 off as we passed. Was it not like a farce, he, in his little 
 boat, at a goodly distance from us, pretending to judge of our 
 health, by seeing us march before him like a flock of sheep ? 
 
52 LETTERS. 
 
 He took our passports away with him. We went off too, and 
 no sooner had we stepped on land, than we were hurried into 
 a little stone building, where our names were registered. 
 This manoeuvring over, we went to the '* Hotel de Londre," 
 where we had a good breakfast, after which, we took a guide 
 and a carriage, and went about to see the city. We first 
 visited the palace of the king of Sardinia, which is occupied 
 by him but one month in a year. I shall not bore you with 
 a description of the rooms of this palace, nor of the beautiful 
 pictures with which it is ornamented, but will reserve this 
 and many other things, for some long winter evening's talk. 
 
 We went into the Church of San Lorenzo, where, it is 
 said, repose the true remains of John the Baptist. The iron 
 urn in which are the bones, is in one of the side chapels. 
 Mr. D. and J. were permitted to enter the chapel and view 
 the urn, but I was not allowed to go within the railing, and 
 for what reason do you think ? Why, because a woman 
 was instrumental in causing the death of John the Baptist, 
 the Pope has commanded that no female shall ever behold 
 these sacred relics ! There 's logic for you! So I, having 
 the misfortune of belonging to the prohibited sex, v,as kept 
 afar off. 
 
 How much I wish you could see the beautiful gardens of 
 Genoa. We spent two or three hours in wandering through 
 them, and never in my gayest dreams, did I imagine any 
 thing half so fair and enchanting, as these magnificent gar- 
 dens. The air was rich with the scent of the orange and 
 lemon blossoms, the red and yellow and white roses grew 
 on large trees, the splendid cactus, the scarlet camellia, the 
 beautiful japonica, the verbena ; in short, flowers of every 
 clime and every hue met the eye on either side. We saw 
 too the tea and coffee plants, the pineapple, the India-rub- 
 ber tree, and every thing that is rare and valuable. Could I 
 have transported to you in all their freshness and beauty, the 
 bunches of costly flowers that were there given me, you 
 would have acknowledged that in your cold New England 
 
LETTERS. 53 
 
 there was nothing that could compare with them. Then 
 there were fountains too of all designs, eagles, birds, ser- 
 pents spouting water in the most beautiful grottoes, Neptune 
 in his car, drawn by his seahorses, and surrounded by naiads 
 sending forth water from their mouths. Oh ! it was all beau- 
 tiful, and far exceeding my feeble powers of description. 
 
 Genoa is a large city, and is called by many, " the city of 
 palaces," there being nearly an hundred. Many of them are 
 large and lofty buildings, but without any claim to external 
 beauty; others are magnificent looking. Most of these belong 
 to nobles residing at foreign courts, or to decayed families, 
 and may be rented for a small sum, so that one can live in a 
 palace here as cheaply as in an ordinary house at home. On 
 this account, many of them are used as offices for the trans- 
 action of business. 
 
 The streets are very narrow ; many of them are no 
 wider than our sidewalks, and of course are quite impassable 
 for carriages ; and here we first saw in use those means of 
 conveyance, the sedan chairs, of which we have so often 
 read. This is a kind of chair, fastened on a handbarrow, 
 which is beautifully painted or gilded, and so covered with 
 rich hangings, that the occupant of the chair may be entirely 
 concealed from view. It is borne by two men who walk 
 very rapidly, and you see them darting in and out the narrow 
 streets and the courts of the houses, and now and then catch 
 a glimpse of some dark eye glistening through the folds of 
 the curtains. 
 
 The houses are so high that the tops seem to meet, thus 
 making the streets cool and shady. All trades and occupa- 
 tions, even to the washing of dishes, clothes and children, are 
 carried on at the very doors of the shops and houses. This 
 at first excited my wonder, till I found out it was owing to 
 the little light that penetrated down these narrow streets. 
 
 The women wear no bonnets, but almost all have a thin 
 white muslin scarf upon their heads, the ends reaching be- 
 low the waist. We saw priests in abundance, the most of 
 5* 
 
54 LETTERS. 
 
 them seeming to be in much better keeping than those we 
 saw in France. Soldiers and beggars too abounded. 
 
 At dinner to-day I saw two new things. Grated cheese 
 was passed around to put in the soup, which, by the way, is 
 a great improvement, and at each plate was a little toothpick. 
 Quite an advance in civilization. 
 
 After dinner, we went to the steamboat, anticipating no 
 difficulty whatever, but we soon found to our amazement and 
 consternation that we could not go on, because our passport 
 was only signed for Genoa. In vain we talked ; in vain the 
 captain stormed, and assured us that he told us of this in the 
 morning ; it was all news to us, for if he did tell us, it was in 
 his mixture of French and Italian, impossible for any one to 
 understand. Mr. D.'s passport came on board ; ours was 
 left behind. The " long and the short " of the story was 
 this, (I assure you there was more "long" than "short" 
 to it), because we did not signify at the police office yester- 
 day morning, that we were going to leave in the evening, the 
 passport was not signed by the health officer, and if we were 
 allowed to go on without his certificate, we should throw the 
 boat at the next port in quarantine for two weeks, no very 
 agreeable prospect, to be sure, so we had to give up. Our 
 baggage was taken from the hold, which, as we came on 
 board the first at Marseilles, was no easy task, and we bade 
 *' good bye" to Mr. D., telling him to secure us a room at a 
 good hotel in Naples, and once more came on shore, where 
 we were stopped, and our baggage thoroughly examined by 
 the custom-house officers. I was exhausted with the day's 
 fatigue and perplexity, and at this last hindrance I com- 
 pletely lost my temper, and heartily wished the Italian lan- 
 guage, passport, and every thing connected with it, at the 
 bottom of the Red Sea. Bat a night's rest restored my 
 equanimity, and the first thing we did this morning, after 
 getting our breakfast, was to race all over town, accompa- 
 nied by our guide, to see that our passport was right this 
 time, and all due certificates of our health were given. 
 
LETTERS. 55 
 
 Through narrow streets and alleys, up one hill, down an- 
 other, now up three or four flights of stairs, now down ao-ain, 
 we went, till all the ceremonies were over, and the passport 
 had been signed by the consuls for Tuscany, Sardinia, Naples, 
 and I can't tell how many more kingdoms, and by all the 
 health officers in the bargain. This labor being accomplish- 
 ed, we began again to look around us. We visited the 
 Brignole palace, where is the finest collection of paintings in 
 Genoa. Here are the productions of the choicest and most 
 renowned masters, Titian, Tintoretto, Guido, Guercino, Ca- 
 racci, Cappucino, Veronese, Rubens, and others whose names 
 have stood first in the number of those whom fame has bla- 
 zoned forth as among the most distinguished artists the world 
 ever produced. Nor must 1 forget one splendid picture by 
 Raphael, the infant Jesus and his mother ! The expression 
 of the faces is most seraphic, the coloring and finishing 
 perfect. Again and again did we return to it, and when 
 obliged to leave the gallery, the "last, longing, lingering 
 look" was turned to the gentle face of Mary, and the lovely 
 innocence of the holy child. In a picture of Christ's agony 
 in the garden, by one of the old masters, there is a look of 
 mute anguish and chastened sorrow in the upturned face of 
 the Saviour, which is enough to excite all hearts to sympa- 
 thy for that Holy Being, who, though he was high, yet hum- 
 bled himself for our sakes, and became " a man of sorrows 
 and acquainted with grief" 
 
 We ascended to the top of a dome of one of the churches, 
 and had such a view as amply to repay us for our ascent up 
 two hundred and fifty-three steps. The sea lay in one vast 
 expanse before us, as calm, and tranquil, and beautiful, as 
 though never stirred to fury. It is impossible to describe to 
 you the clear blue of the Mediterranean, it is so entirely dif- 
 ferent from the blue of the ocean. It is more of an indigo 
 cast, and the water is so clear and transparent, that often 
 you can see far down into its very depths. Behind us were 
 the lofty mountains that almost encircle Genoa, while be- 
 
56 LETTERS. 
 
 tvveen them and the sea lay the city, with its churches, and 
 palaces, and beautiful gardens. 
 
 And now we are waiting for the boat to come and carry 
 us off to a steamer that sails this evening for Naples. I have 
 seized a few moments of rest to write you this hasty account. 
 Fear not for us hereafter, for we have had trouble enough 
 this time, to lead us to look out pretty closely for the future, 
 that our passport is signed by every body and for every place, 
 and that a due certificate of our good health is always ready ; 
 and you certainly need have no anxiety for our health, since 
 you see it is the object of so much care to those high in au- 
 thority. Now adieu to Genoa, and adieu to thee. 
 
 On board Steamer Francois I. 
 Saturda}' eve. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 " Once more upon the sea." From some cause to us un- 
 known, we are deterred from getting off immediately, so with 
 my usual propensity to occupy each passing moment, I seize 
 my pen to write to you, not knowing when I shall be able to 
 finish my letter. We have had a busy day to-day, and I has- 
 ten to give you an account of the " things which I saw." 
 We arrived in Leghorn quite early this morning, and, with- 
 out spending any time in looking around there, took a car- 
 riage and started for Pisa, about fifteen miles distant. We 
 were fortunate enough to procure a guide who spoke Eng- 
 glish, one too who has been in America, and in our own 
 city. No sooner had we started than we were surrounded 
 by beggars, the lame, the halt, and the blind; each had 
 his pitiful story to relate, but as our horses were pretty quick, 
 we should soon have left them in the back-ground, had it not 
 been that the lame threw away their crutches, trusting to 
 their own good feet and legs, and the blind suddenly recov- 
 
LETTERS. 57 
 
 ered their eyesight, and the decrepid and infirm became, as 
 by magic, sound and vigorous, so that they all had strength 
 to follow us for some distance, raising their clamorous cries 
 for charity. 
 
 We enjoyed the ride much; the road was most excellent, 
 and the country beautiful. The land, for nearly the whole dis- 
 tance, is the private property of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, 
 in whose dominions we then were, and is in a fine state of 
 cultivation. Although early in May, grain was very high, 
 and almost ripe for the harvest. Instead of hedges, trees 
 were planted around the fields, and from tree to tree the vine 
 was thrown in festoons, which had a most picturesque ap- 
 pearance. On the road, we passed a large basin of Egyptian 
 granite, which was brought from Egypt by sea to Leghorn, 
 and was then on the way to Florence, to adorn the garden of 
 the Grand Duke. You may form some estimate of its size and 
 weight, when I tell you it was drawn by twenty yokes of the 
 real buffalo, and by as many more pairs of oxen. The road, 
 solid and perfect as it seemed to be, was much broken up by 
 it in several places. As we were riding along, looking now 
 hither, now thither, a bunch of roses was suddenly thrust 
 into my face. On looking round, I perceived it was fastened 
 on a little rod which a boy held in his hand. He ran along 
 by the carriage for some time, till at last J. handed him a 
 small piece of money, holding out his hand for the flowers, 
 when lo ! they vanished, and the boy was " among the miss- 
 ing." We laughed heartily at the idea of having to pay for 
 a smell in this land of flowers and rich odors. 
 
 Pisa is beautifully situated on both sides of the Arno. 
 The streets are wide and clean, and the houses quite hand- 
 some. But it seemed like a deserted city ; not a carriage, 
 nor hardly a foot passenger was to be seen ; but in the win- 
 ter, I am told the city is very full, it being quite a fashiona- 
 ble place of resort for the Florentines. 
 
 We went to the Cathedral, a large church, built in the 
 form of a cross, and surmounted by a dome, and here I will 
 
58 LETTERS. 
 
 just say, that in all the churches where there is a dome, the 
 interior lies open to the very roof, giving a church thus built 
 a loftiness of appearance which is almost unsurpassed by any 
 other style of architecture. This is the most splendid church 
 we have yet seen, and would well deserve a longer examina- 
 tion than we were able to give it. Here are some of the oldest 
 paintings now extant. This church was built in the eleventh 
 century ; at that time, every thing that was taken as spoils of 
 v/ar, was consecrated to religious purposes ; hence the valu- 
 able paintings and rare marbles that are here seen in abun- 
 dance. The doors of the church are of bronze, divided into 
 compartments, and sculptured in illustration of various scrip- 
 tural scenes. The floor is of marble of different colors. 
 Around the sides of the church are tombs of many bishops 
 and archbishops, each one being a handsome piece of sculp- 
 ture. Here, too, repose the true remains of a celebrated 
 virgin, who, in her lifetime, performed many miracles, and 
 whose bones are now shown once a year amid solemn pomp 
 and grandeur. Truly an edifying scene ! And here too are 
 the remains of another eminent saint, which likewise are 
 shown once a year, and, marvellous to relate, though he has 
 been dead many, many years, they yet have a fresh appear- 
 ance ! So said the guide ; and he shrugged his shoulders, as 
 much as to say, " believe it or not, just as you please." 
 
 In one part of the church two priests were performing ser- 
 vice; one of them read so fast that he actually had to stop to 
 catch his breath, and several times he spit on the steps of the 
 very altar before which he was bowing, and which he had 
 previously kissed with so much apparent reverence. 
 
 We then went into the Baptistery, which stands just back 
 of the church. It is of an octagonal shape, and is quite large 
 enough to be a church of itself. The roof is supported by 
 large pillars of Sardinian granite, and smaller ones of white 
 marble. The font is of white marble, and is in the middle of 
 the building; this is for adults; around it are four smaller 
 ones for infants. All these fonts were evidently designed 
 
LETTERS. 59 
 
 for administering baptism by immersion. There was one of 
 the finest echoes in the Baptistery I ever heard. The sexton 
 sung a few notes, and the echo was like the clear tones of 
 an organ. 
 
 We then visited the Campanile, or, as it is more familiarly 
 termed, "the Leaning Tower." Who has not heard of this? 
 Why even in our very childhood, we thought of it as one of 
 the seven wonders of the world. You may well imagine 
 then the eagerness with which we looked for it, and the 
 quick steps with which we passed under the leaning side, as 
 though it was going to fall upon us. And yet, just so has it 
 stood for hundreds of years. Whether it was originally built 
 so, or whether from an earthquake, or the natural looseness 
 of the soil, it has thus inclined from the perpendicular, 
 seems still to be a matter of doubt. The general impression 
 here is, that it was built so, and it is supposed the architect 
 reasoned thus: — " -d straight tower, however high, is no 
 strange thing, but a leaning tower is ; therefore, I will build 
 one that shall be a wonder to all ages." I have no time or 
 inclination to go into the merits of this controversy, but will 
 leave it to those better versed in antiquarian lore. This 
 tower is of a circular form, is eight stories high, and is 
 adorned on the outside with marble pillars. In fact the 
 whole tower is of marble. The walls are of great thickness. 
 We ascended to the top by two hundred and ninety-five 
 steps, and had a fine view of the surrounding country. We 
 saw the beautiful vale watered by the Arno, whose meander- 
 ings we could trace for several miles, while far away stretch- 
 ed the blue sea. High mountains bounded the horizon, on 
 some of whose summits we saw the snow glistening. There 
 are seven bells in this tower, the largest of which weicrhs 
 twenty tons. In former times the bells of a church were 
 rarely placed in the church itself, but generally a tower was 
 built purposely for their use. The leaning tower of Pisa is 
 one hundred and ninety feet high, and inclines from the per- 
 pendicular six feet on the inside, and fifteen feet on the out- 
 side. 
 
$0 LETTERS. 
 
 We next went to the " Campo Santo," an ancient burial- 
 place. This is a most beautiful building, surrounded by 
 three hundred and sixty-two light and elegant arcades. It is 
 built round a court, the earth of which was brought from the 
 Holy Land in the year 1200. Tradition says that such was 
 the power of this earth, that bodies buried in it lost all their 
 flesh in the short space of twenty-four hours. There are no 
 monuments in the court, but the walls are covered with in- 
 scriptions, and lined with monuments of various periods, 
 some of very ancient date, others more modern. Here all 
 the nobility were formerly buried, but eighty-seven years 
 have now elapsed, since any interments have taken place ; 
 and our voluble guide told us that millions of money would 
 not purchase permission to be laid in the Campo Santo, be- 
 cause at one time the nobles murmured at being placed so 
 near the common people, so a decree was issued that no one 
 hereafter should be buried there. The walls in many places 
 are painted in fresco. In one scene representing the judg- 
 ment, among those in '' the torments of hell," is one man 
 whose face so strongly resembles that of Napoleon, as to ex- 
 cite universal attention. Yet this was done at least four 
 hundred years before his time. 
 
 After going into a cafe and getting some refreshment, 
 consisting of bread and strawberries, we started on our re- 
 turn for Leghorn. We were obliged to come immediately 
 on board, so I can give you no account whatever of that city. 
 The steamers do not stop at the wharves, but lie off in the 
 harbor, so we are obliged to come and go in little boats, 
 which are fitted up in pretty taste, having little awnings of 
 colored cloth. But now we are bounding over the sea, and 
 it is quite too rough for me to write more; so for the present, 
 good bye. 
 
 Naples, Monday morning. 
 
 At length behold us arrived in this far-famed city of Na- 
 ples. I raise my head to look out of the window, and before 
 me lays the beautiful bay, its waters as clear and as blue as 
 
LETTERS. 61 
 
 the sky above. I am at present in Mr. D.'s room, and while 
 waiting for one to be prepared for us, improve the time to 
 finish this letter, and to give you an account of the remain- 
 der of our journey hither. 
 
 All day yesterday we lay in the harbor of Civita Vecchia, 
 not being allowed to go on shore. The reason of this was, 
 it being a gala day, the custom-house officers were officiat- 
 ing in church, and did not come off to us till the services 
 were over. It was two o'clock before they came on board, 
 and then our passports and certificates of health were duly 
 examined, so that by the time all the formalities were over, 
 it was so late that the captain would not allow any one to go 
 on shore. After church the people gathered in crowds on 
 the wharves ; soldiers were there with their bands of music, 
 but the multitude seemed absorbed in watching a number of 
 men and boys, diving one after another from a high ladder 
 into the sea. And thus ended the day off Civita Vecchia. 
 
 I went early to my berth, but passed a sleepless night. It 
 was dreadfully rough. The sea came pouring over the deck; 
 one man fell thump out of his berth, and every thing went 
 crash, as though the boat was going to pieces. I thought if 
 ever I got out of that steamboat it would be long ere 1 went 
 into another. I know not why it is, that while the days 
 have been so pleasant the nights have been so stormy. I 
 never saw it rougher on the ocean than it has been the three 
 nights we have been on the Mediterranean. 
 
 At last the sea became calmer and smoother, and we soon 
 arrived in sight of Naples. Mr. D. came off in a small boat 
 for us, and after a scene of " confusion worse confounded," 
 of officers coming on board and going off again, of men fly- 
 ing hither and thither, of jabbering in French and Italian, 
 permission came for us to land, and we started for shore. 
 Our baggage was literally searched, the top of the trunk 
 broken, and the clothes put back in such disorder that it 
 was impossible to lock it. However, they could not find 
 any thing to lay their clutches on, but my shawl, which one 
 6 
 
62 LETTERS. 
 
 of them took on his arm with a triumphant air, but I coolly 
 pointed to the marks of its having been worn, so he quickly 
 put it down again. Another got hold of my journal, first 
 taking it upside down, but making nothing of it so, he turn- 
 ed it another way, looking all the time as though he was 
 completely puzzled. And well he might be, for to him it 
 was written in strange hieroglyphics, and I will not say but 
 I may find some trouble in reading it myself 
 
 J. witnessed quite a curious sight this morning. A man 
 in the cabin took out of his carpet bag a beautiful shawl, and 
 a splendid piece of goods, which he wrapped around him, 
 and over which he put his clothes, and thus defied the cus- 
 tom-house officers. 
 
 But I am told our room is ready ; so I leave you now. 
 
 Yours ever. 
 
 Naples, Tuesday evening. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Excited and interested as 1 have been in the events of this 
 day, I cannot allow myself to rest till I have given you some 
 idea, however faint, of the objects that have occupied our 
 attention since I last wrote. You may well suppose that one 
 of our first desires was to see Pompeii and Herculaneum. 
 Accordingly, we set out early this morning, and spent the 
 whole day in visiting those cities of the dead. 
 
 As soon as we arrived in Naples, we secured the services 
 of a " Valet de Place," whose office it is to go round with 
 us, to act as an interpreter, as we do not understand Italian 
 at all. He makes all our arrangements for us, lays out plans 
 for sight-seeing, and makes himself useful in various ways. 
 He speaks English very fluently, and is quite an original in 
 his way. It is whispered in our hotel that he is a man who 
 has seen better days, and that there is quite a romance con- 
 
LETTERS. 63 
 
 nected with his early history, but as he seems reserved on 
 the subject of his own aflFiiirs, I have not touched upon them 
 at all. But enough of Francesco, and now to our ride to 
 Pompeii. We had a nice carriage and two quick horses, 
 and a driver, and were gone all day, and the whole expense 
 was but little over two dollars. No more is demanded for a 
 carriage for four, than though one w^ent alone. For in- 
 stance, in taking a carriage to go to any part of the city, you 
 are not charged by the individual, as in our cities home, 
 but by the distance, it thus CQs;:ing nc more for four than for 
 one. But another digression ? Well, pardon it, and I will 
 go at once to our ride. The country is quite pleasant be- 
 tween Naples and Pompeii. The distance is about fifteen 
 miles. We passed many fine villas surrounded by beautiful 
 gardens, making the air sweet with the odor of the rose, the 
 orange and the lemon. After the first few miles, however, 
 the country was so much covered with ashes and lava from 
 Vesuvius, as to give it rather a desolate and barren appear- 
 ance. During the whole of our ride we had this mountain 
 in view, from which constantly arose clouds of smoke tinged 
 with a reddish hue. 
 
 But how shall I describe what I saw at Pompeii, so as to 
 give you any conception of the overwhelming interest con- 
 nected with such a spot? I can hardly realize that I have 
 been there myself, that my feet have trod those streets which 
 once resounded with the steps of busy men, but which for 
 centuries have been hushed in the silence and darkness of 
 desolation and death. 
 
 I always had an idea that Pompeii lay far beneath the sur- 
 face of the earth, entirely shut out from the light of day, so 
 that in visiting it you had to go down into the very bowels 
 of the earth, and wander by torchlight through subterranean 
 passages and recesses. On the contrary the city, or at least 
 that part of it which has been excavated, lies open to the 
 sky. Pompeii was buried beneath the light ashes of Vesu- 
 vius, and not under the solid lava, so that the process of 
 
64 LETTERS. 
 
 excavation was comparatively easy. Only about a third part 
 however has yet been brought to light ; the work is still 
 going on, so that every day some new discovery is made. 
 
 At the entrance to the city is a guard-house, at which 
 several government officers are stationed, and no one is al- 
 lowed to go about the ruins without the escort of one of these 
 soldiers, and he keeps the most vigilant watch, lest any one 
 should take away some memento of the place. I could not 
 stoop to pick up a pebble, or even to look closely at any thing, 
 without the one with us crying out, " take care, Madame, do 
 not touch." 
 
 We entered one of the principal streets of the city through 
 a ruined gateway, at which was found the skeleton of the 
 sentinel on duty, on whose head was a helmet weighing sixty 
 pounds. Under the strict discipline of the Roman soldier, 
 he would not leave his post, even when the city was being 
 overwhelmed with destruction. 
 
 The streets are paved with large flat stones, which bear 
 the marks of wheels, and are so narrow as to have admitted 
 the passage of but one chariot at a time. On either side is a 
 raised footwalk, and occasionally a single stepping-stone is 
 placed in the middle of the street, for passing from one side 
 to the other. 
 
 The first house we entered was that of Diomede, one of 
 the most influential citizens of Pompeii. Two stories of the 
 house are standing, besides the cellar or arched passage, 
 which runs some ways beneath the house, and in which were 
 found several skeletons, supposed to have been some mem- 
 bers of the family, attempting to escape from the ruin that 
 was overwhelming them. In the hand of one, thought to be 
 Diomede himself, was a bunch of keys, probably of the wine 
 cellar, and on the arm of a female, either the wife or daugh- 
 ter of the master of the house, was a bracelet of gold, weigh- 
 ing a pound and a half, and in her hand a purse. In this 
 house are many rooms, the most of them small ; there are 
 bed-chambers, bathing rooms and dressing-rooms, looking 
 
LETTERS. 65 
 
 into the garden ; eating-rooms, a drawing-room and guest- 
 chambers, and the remains of several fountains. Many of 
 the rooms were floored with marble of different colors, and 
 arranged in different forms. 
 
 We visited the remains of many other houses, among 
 which was that of Sallust, which is one of the largest and 
 most perfect that has yet been discovered. On the walls of 
 some of the rooms are well preserved paintings of gods, god- 
 desses and dancing girls. In this house were also found some 
 skeletons. 
 
 We also saw shops of various kinds ; many were for the 
 sale of oil and wine, the places where the jars stood, and 
 even the jars themselves being still seen. Here too were a 
 soap manufactory, a coffee-house, a bake-house, where were 
 found small mills for grinding corn, and some loaves of bread, 
 which are now removed to the Museum. 
 
 After seeing many things, far too numerous for me even 
 to give the names of them, we went to the Forum, a large 
 open court adorned with pillars. On one side are the temples 
 of Jupiter and of Venus, and the Basilica, or Hail of Justice, 
 each ornamented with pillars and statues. Beneath the Ba- 
 silica are prisons, which certainly were not very inviting, 
 though they seemed cool and comfortable to us, after having 
 walked so far in the hot sun. 
 
 Nor must I forget to mention the large public bathing 
 house that we visited. Here the rooms had double walls, 
 with a space between them, into which steam ascended from 
 some sort of apparatus in the cellar, and came into the rooms 
 from openings in the inner wall. This certainly is not fiir 
 removed from our present fashion of heating houses with hot 
 air. 
 
 *' Last, but by no means least," Vv'e went to see the Am- 
 phitheatre, which stands without the walls. This was a 
 spacious edifice, calculated to seat between twenty and thirty 
 thousand persons. It is of an oval form, open at the top, 
 and has thirty rows of seats ascending from the arena, one 
 6* 
 
66 LETTERS. 
 
 above another, to the very top. At opposite sides of the arena 
 are openings by which the wild beasts formerly entered ; 
 these were strongly guarded by gates, which are not standing 
 at present, but the holes made for the hinges and bolts are 
 still seen. It detracts very much from the effect of these 
 buildings thus rescued from oblivion, that nearly all the rich 
 ornaments, marble, furniture and paintings found in them, 
 have been carried to the Museum. They would be seen to 
 much better advantage, if left in the places where they were 
 originally found, and government is beginning to think the 
 same thing, for it has ordered that nothing that is now 
 brought to light, shall be moved from the spot, which will 
 certainly add much to the interest of Pompeii. 
 
 1 would, dear friend, that I had the power to give you a 
 better and more connected description of this interesting 
 city, but I have neither time nor ability to say more. Wearied 
 nature demands repose, and I have already trespassed on 
 those hours which ought to be given to rest, and yet the half 
 has not been said. Pompeii is a fit place for meditation, as 
 one wanders through those deserted houses and temples, 
 among shattered pillars and broken statues and ruined arch- 
 es, and through silent gardens and courts, where once were 
 the soft music of gushing waters, and the rich odors of costly 
 plants. A melancholy awe pervaded our souls, and we felt 
 that we were treading the places of the dead, solemn, still 
 and grand. I could not but think of the suddenness with 
 which this gloom came upon the devoted city. How little 
 thought the inhabitants, plunged in luxury, gaiety and li- 
 centiousness, of the doom that awaited them ! How little 
 that they would lie entombed for nearly two thousand years, 
 and then that their ruined homes would be visited by the 
 people of a country of which they had never even dreamed ! 
 
 On our return, we stopped at a little distance from Pompeii, 
 to see a mineral spring which comes from Vesuvius. We 
 descended a hill where the lava was from twenty to fifty feet 
 deep. Out of this bed of lava rushes the spring. It comes 
 
LETTERS. 67 
 
 bubbling up, is quite warm, and is strongly impregnated with 
 sulphur. 
 
 Just before we got to Portici, we stopped to see the re- 
 mains of Herculaneum. This, instead of being buried under 
 ashes as Pompeii was, was covered with melted lava, which 
 when cool, became solid rock. Hence the difficulty of ex- 
 cavating the city. Besides, the town of Portici is built over 
 it, so that probably it will never be entirely brought to light. 
 A part of a theatre only has been excavated. It lies seventy- 
 nine feet below the surface of the earth. We descended by 
 the light of torches, a long flight t)f stone stairs dripping 
 with moisture. It was really a curious sight, to see us 
 threading our way among solid masses of lava, over broken 
 pillars and statues, with our torches glimmering here and 
 there in the intense darkness. The statues that were found 
 here have been removed to the Museum, so we had to fancy 
 how it looked when first discovered. All that we could see 
 was the bare walls, the stage and orchestra, and a portion of 
 the pit and some of the boxes. 
 
 To-morrow we go to the Museum, where are deposited 
 the objects of curiosity and interest which were found in 
 these buried cities; so look out for another letter soon. And' 
 now good night. 
 
 Naples, Wednesday. 
 
 And now, dear friend, for the Museum. Pray give your 
 most earnest attention, while I tell you of some of the things 
 which I saw there. Do not think that I am going to inflict 
 upon you a tiresome catalogue of the objects of curiosity 
 there collected. I shall only mention in a general and dis- 
 connected manner, some things that particularly attracted 
 our notice. And first, we went into a hall filled with mosaics 
 found in Pompeii and Herculaneum. Mosaic painting, you 
 
68 LETTERS. 
 
 know, is done by putting stones or pieces of a kind of glass 
 so nicely together, that the whole forms a picture, and thus 
 at a little distance, the separate parts cannot be perceived. 
 These mosaics were portions of walls and floors, and were in 
 such a fine state of preservation, that I could hardly imagine 
 they had been buried so long in the earth. 
 
 Then came the gallery of ancient sculpture, and there we 
 were surrounded by Jupiter, Minerva, Mars, Mercury, Ve- 
 nus, Cupid, Bacchus, Apollo, nymphs, fawns, heroes and 
 heroines of antiquity without number. Here, too, were 
 busts and statues of the wise and great of generations long 
 since passed away — Aurelius, Tiberius, Trajan, Probus, 
 Pyrrhus, Caesar, Cicero, Socrates, Demosthenes, Homer, that 
 *' blind old bard of Scio's rocky isle," Lycurgus, Solon, 
 Aristides, Herodotus, and I cannot tell how many, many 
 more. 
 
 Then there were the most splendid vases and basins of 
 marble and porphyry, many of them ornamented with elegant 
 bas-reliefs, pillars and columns of rare marbles; in short, 
 many volumes would not contain a description of the various 
 things I there saw. In another room were bronze statues, 
 and I was surprised to see how many of these were of danc- 
 ino- girls and actresses. Many of the finest statues and busts 
 were found in the theatres. 
 
 We then went up stairs, where were some beautiful mosaic 
 tables, lamps, candelabras, drinking cups, &c., all found at 
 Pompeii. Some of the lamps, particularly those suspended 
 from the ceiling, were in the shape of birds, the flame to 
 proceed from the mouth ; these were mostly of bronze, but 
 the others were generally of stone and were very small. 
 Here too was all the paraphernalia of an apothecary's shop, 
 some of the jars even now containing medicines in them. 
 Nor must I forget to add the bodies taken from the ruins, 
 which, although black and dried, were in a good state of 
 preservation. 
 
 We saw the rolls of papyrus also found in Pompeii, which 
 
LETTERS. 69 
 
 SO much resembled charcoal, that they were for a long time 
 mistaken for it, till the exact order in which they were plac- 
 ed, excited curiosity, and then it was discovered what they 
 really were. We saw the process of unrolling them, so that 
 they may be copied, and thus the records of past ages, which 
 have so long been buried in oblivion, are brought to light. 
 
 From this room we passed into another, called " the cabi- 
 net of gems," and " gems " indeed, they seemed to our eyes 
 unaccustomed to behold so magnificent a display. There 
 were rings, some large and massy, chains, necklaces, ear- 
 rings, brooches, bracelets, among which was that found on 
 the arm of Diomede's wife, and the purse in her hand, a 
 small deer made of gold, pins and bodkins of gold, together 
 with silver cups, plates, dishes, salvers, vases and spoons, a 
 large cup of sardonyx set in gold, and hundreds of precious 
 stones. 
 
 But a still greater curiosity to us, were two loaves of bread, 
 some dough, a large piece of honeycomb, several kinds of 
 grain, dates, prunes, raisins, pears and eggs ; these all, ex- 
 cepting the eggs, were black as jet, but in form were still 
 perfect. Here too were pieces of cloth, some of which 
 were found in the washing vessels ; some nets, perfectly black ; 
 flasks for wine and oil, some of which still remain in the 
 flasks ; and a jar, in which were olives in a perfect state of 
 preservation. These certainly were interesting remains, not 
 so much in themselves, as from the circumstance that they 
 were nearly two thousand years old. On an elegant mosaic 
 table was a portable stove, where were places for the fuel, 
 water, and articles to be cooked. Then there were sauce- 
 pans, kettles, frying pans, soma of which were hollowed out 
 in places just the size of an egg, and all the et ceteras of a 
 kitchen establishment, musical instruments, bells for cattle, 
 and toilet furniture, among which were combs, pins, boxes 
 for paints, essences and rouge, some of which are still pre- 
 served. 
 
 In another room were models of ancient tombs, in each of 
 
79 LETTERS. 
 
 which were a skeleton, vases, lamps, incense bottles, and a 
 piece of money in the mouth of each body to pay the ferry- 
 man for carrying him over the Styx. These surely serve to 
 explain the belief and customs of the ancients in relation to 
 the dead. As we came out we just looked into the Library, 
 which contains about two hundred thousand volumes, in one 
 of the rooms of which was the most astonishing echo I ever 
 heard, the reverberations being thirty-two in number. 
 
 And thus ends the record of this day's sight-seeing, and I 
 think you will certainly agree with me, that we have seen 
 quite enough for one day, and that I must be sufficiently 
 tired by this time to lay aside my pen. So now adieu. 
 
 Naples, Thursday. 
 
 " What," do you say, *' another letter ? " Really so many 
 objects of attention come before us, that unless I write every 
 evening, my letters would be as long as an old sailor's yarns. 
 We have been on the " qui vive " to-day, I can assure you, 
 having taken a most delightful excursion to Baiae, and its 
 environs. We started quite early this morning, for you may 
 well know that we have to be up in season to accomplish so 
 much in a day. 
 
 No sooner had we left the city than we plunged into a 
 dark grotto, or subterranean road, cut out of the solid rock, 
 called the Grotto of Posilippo. It is two thousand three 
 hundred and sixteen feet long, twenty-two wide, and rises to 
 an unequal height, sometimes extending upwards of eighty 
 feet above us. Though lamps were burning at intervals, it 
 was extremely dark. The air was cold and damp, and it 
 seemed indeed as though we were in the deepest recesses of 
 the earth, whereas we were a little above the level of the 
 streets of Naples. A high hill, or, more properly speaking, 
 mountain, was over our heads. 
 
LETTERS. 71 
 
 Our road then lay through fields planted with trees, with 
 the vine stretching in luxuriant growth between them in 
 every direction. Through these we often caught glimpses 
 of the sea, and finally came in full sight of it, so that we 
 had a magnificent view of the bay, with its mountainous 
 sides and rocky islands; on one of which is the Lazzaretto, 
 and on another, a hotel and a bathing house, where the Nea- 
 politans resort in great numbers in the summer season. 
 
 Near Puteoli, we visited the sulphur manufactory, all the 
 operations of which are carried on in the open air. Here 
 the odor was intolerable, and terrible were the coughing and 
 sneezing, the hemming and spitting, that were heard from 
 our party. How the workmen stand it, is more than I can 
 can tell. From openings in the earth, issue streams of sul- 
 phurous vapor, over which water is kept boiling till it be- 
 comes saturated with the sulphur. It then passes through 
 clay, and thus becomes separated from the sulphur, which is 
 boiled down, refined, and put up in jars and sent away. 
 While we were looking on, one of the workmen took up a 
 large stone and throw it violently upon the ground, which 
 produced that reverberating sound that plainly showed it 
 was hollow beneath. 
 
 We then went to see the ruins of an ancient amphitheatre, 
 built in the time of Caligula, but long since buried by an 
 earthquake. Workmen are now engaged in excavating it, 
 and enough is already seen to show the immensity of the 
 building. It is very similar to the one we saw in Pompeii, 
 only it is nearly twice as large. It is really wonderful to 
 see the destruction here produced by earthquakes and erup- 
 tions. Here in a small town is this enormous structure. 
 W^here, now, are the remains of the former grandeur of this 
 place, once the centre of Roman magnificence and splendor ? 
 The earth has opened her mouth and swallowed them up ! 
 Where are now the thousands that once assembled in this 
 building ? I looked around on its desolate walls, its ruined 
 pillars, its broken statues, its deserted seats, and echo seem- 
 ed to answer, " Where? " 
 
72 LETTERS. 
 
 All around this amphitheatre are the ruins of houses, thus 
 showing that this was once a place of great size and impor- 
 tance. Oh, time ! how great are thy changes ! 
 
 Here too are the remains of the temple of Jupiter Sera- 
 pis, an immense edifice, supposed to have been built in the 
 sixth century of Rome, but partly thrown down, and com- 
 pletely buried by an earthquake. It was accidentally discov- 
 ered in 1750 by a peasant, who found the top of one of the 
 columns. Excavations were immediately conmienced, and 
 the temple was found almost entire, but the columns and 
 statues have nearly all been removed, and it now stands a com- 
 plete ruin. Enough however remains to show its former mag- 
 nificence ; three columns are left entire, while over the floor 
 of marble, lie scattered pieces of pillars, capitals and sculp- 
 ture, which serve as stepping-stones from one side to another, 
 the whole floor being covered by water from the sea. In 
 this temple is a number of small apartments, which, together 
 with the fact of springs of boiling water being found in the 
 neighborhood, lead to the conclusion that the sick and infirm 
 were brought here to be restored by the sacred waters. 
 
 Puteoli is now a small and dirty town, having nothing in- 
 teresting about it save these ruins, and the fact of its having 
 been the place where St. Paul first landed in Italy, when as 
 he was on his way to Rome " he came to Puteoli, where he 
 found brethren who desired him to tarry with them seven 
 days." 
 
 We rode along for some distance till we came to the Lu- 
 crine Lake, a pretty little sheet of water, with a white house 
 and chapel on its borders. Here we left the carriage, and 
 walked along a hot, sandy path for nearly a mile, till we 
 came suddenly upon Lake Avernus, fairly embosomed among 
 the mountains. This is the Tartarus of Virgil, though it 
 seems to have no claim at present to that name, for it is really 
 most beautiful. The mountains slope down to the water's 
 edge, thus rendering true Virgil's description, that it was 
 easy to descend to Lake Avernus, but somewhat of a task to 
 
LETTERS. 73 
 
 get back again. This lake is said to be four hundred feet 
 deep. After walking along the bank of the lake for some 
 distan^ce, we turned into a cool, shady grove, and soon came 
 to the entrance of the " Grotto of the Sybil." Here we 
 took three guides and two large torches, and descended to 
 the bowels of the earth. After walking for some time in this 
 arched grotto, we came to the river Styx. Here we mounted 
 " a la mode" pig, on the backs of our guides, who were up to 
 their waists in water. Mr. D., who, by the way, was exalted 
 by them to the dignity of " my Lord Anglais," went first 
 on the back of the man who carried a torch, I after him, 
 while J. brought up the rear. Francesco stayed behind, to 
 keep watch over our books and basket of provisions. At 
 first I was quite frightened at riding in that fashion, as I had 
 not practised it since I was quite a child, but soon the amus- 
 ing sight we presented so struck me, that I made the cavern 
 resound with my laughter. Mr. D., who is quite a large 
 man, was on the back of the very smallest man of the whole, 
 and he made me think, as I saw him by the dim light, of the 
 enormous bundles I had seen on the back of a little donkey. 
 We thus walked, or rather rode (for, I believe, " pig back" 
 has from time immemorial been dignified with the title of 
 riding,) for some time to my infinite diversion. We were 
 several times set down, not in the water however, but on 
 the stones around the baths, which are said to have been used 
 as a bed by the Sybil after bathing. Whether a bed or not, 
 this raised platform was about the size of a bed, with a stone 
 like a pillow at the head. Rather a cool and a hard bed I 
 should imagine. We stopped to examine several secret cham- 
 bers, said to have been built by Nero. After wading about 
 some time, we came to " terra firma," and dismounted from 
 the backs of our guides quite satisfied with that kind of trav- 
 elling. This grotto is a curious sight, and certainly a ro 
 mantic place; for, in groping through dark passages, lighted 
 only by a flashing torch, and mounting on the backs of men, 
 7 
 
74 LETTERS. 
 
 and thus wading through the water, I think there is quite 
 romance enough. 
 
 After leaving the grotto, we walked back to the carriage, 
 and then rode round Lake Lucrine, where we once more left 
 our carriage, climbed a little way up the mountain, and en- 
 tered its side, and stood within a large cavern. From this 
 there was a passage leading directly into the mountain, to a 
 hot, boiling spring. We were told that the water of this 
 spring was hot enough to boil eggs, but Mr. D. and J. being 
 anxious to satisfy themselves as to the truth of this, followed 
 the guide through the dark passage leading to the spring, but 
 it was so warm, I would not venture, neither indeed did I 
 dare to, as it is not considered safe unless alJ the clothes can be 
 changed after coming out. Indeed, so intolerably hot did they 
 find it, they would have turned back before reaching it, had it 
 not been for the many by-passages that diverge from the main 
 passage, and the idea of losing their way was so unpleasant, 
 they persevered in the attempt, and came back dripping with 
 perspiration. The man took in with him two eggs in a little 
 pail, which he filled with the water, and soon after he came 
 back, the eggs were taken out well boiled. The whole 
 range of mountains around Naples seems to be of a volcanic 
 nature, and this spring, so far distant from Vesuvius, is 
 doubtless fed by the same fires that there ceaselessly burn. 
 
 We then rode on to Baiae. This town was once one of 
 the most celebrated in Italy, as a place of resort for the 
 higher classes among the Romans. It is now strown with 
 ruins, the principal of which are temples of Venus, 
 Diana, Jupiter and Mercury ; the last only we examined. 
 It is a circular edifice, surmounted by a dome, having an 
 opening in the top, and is in a very good state of preserva- 
 tion. Here is one of the finest echoes I ever heard ; the 
 clapping of hands was like distant thunder, and a stone 
 thrown violently on the ground seemed like the reverbera- 
 tions of cannon among the hills. Here too was a sort of 
 whispering gallery. J. stood on one side with his mouth to 
 
LETTERS. 75 
 
 an aperture in the wall, and I at the opposite side, nearly one 
 hundred feet from him, with my ear to a similar aperture. 
 He then whispered a few words, which I heard as distinctly 
 as though I stood close by him. 
 
 We rode on a little way beyond Baiae, and had a beautiful 
 view of the country around. Here, separated by a narrow 
 strip of land from the sea, is a sort of lake called " the Dead 
 Sea," or, according to Virgil, the " Stygian Lake." In this 
 neighborhood too were the Elysian fields of the same poet, 
 and surely never was a country seen more beautiful, nor any 
 more worthy of being called Elysian. The green and lofty 
 mountains, the fertile vales covered with the vine, the fig tree 
 and the olive, seen beneath a cloudless sky, formed a lovely 
 picture, worthy of the pen of the poet, or the pencil of the 
 painter. 
 
 Our ride home was most delightful, having the sea almost 
 constantly in view ; the sun was far down toward the horizon, 
 and the country was charming, mountains and vineyards 
 being all around us. Instead of coming home through the 
 grottoof Posilippo, we ascended the mountain over it, by the 
 road called Napoleon's road, which was constructed by Murat 
 when he was king of Naples. It is a magnificent road, wind- 
 ing round the side of the mountain. Beneath us, as we 
 ascended, was the fertile country through which we had been 
 riding, seeming like a garden at our feet, and as we came 
 down on the other side, we had a fine view of Naples, its 
 bay, the splendid villas dotting the shore, and old Vesuvius 
 sending forth huge columns of smoke. 
 
 We got back about half past six, feeling but little fatigued 
 and quite satisfied with our day's work ; we dined at seven, 
 and the remainder of the evening I have spent in writing to 
 you. So you see, every moment of the day has been 
 occupied ; and now I leave you awhile. 
 
76 LETTERS. 
 
 Naples, Saturday evening. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Yesterday and to-day, we have been busy in looking 
 around Naples and its immediate environs, and having a lit- 
 tle leisure this evening, I hasten to give you an account of 
 ** what I saw." We went yesterday morning to the Church 
 of San Francesco. In this land, where so much of splendor 
 and wealth, and the most beautiful productions of art are 
 collected in the churches, they are of course among the 
 first objects visited by strangers. You can generally gain 
 admission at any hour of the day, but if you go at the time 
 of morning or evening service, and just look about you with- 
 out requiring the attention of a guide, it costs you nothing, 
 but if you go at any other hour you are obliged to pay the 
 customary fee. 
 
 The Church of San Francesco is quite new, and is, what 
 in Yankee land we would call " a splendid affair." It is of 
 a circular form, and is surmounted by a dome, around the 
 interior of which runs a gallery supported by thirty-three 
 large pillars of light colored marble. At regular distances 
 between the pillars are statues of the four Evangelists, and 
 of four of the ancient Fathers, Chrysostom, Athanasius, 
 Ambrose, and Augustine. The altar is composed of the 
 choicest marbles, porphyry, jasper, and lapis-lazuli ; this last 
 is a precious stone of the most beautiful blue color. The 
 floor is of marble, a large circular piece being in the centre, 
 from which diverge lines of different colored marbles. Di- 
 rectly opposite to the church is the royal palace. 
 
 We then went to the Chapel of St. Severo, which is now 
 very small, having been nearly destroyed by an earthquake. 
 Though so small, it is very rich, the interior being filled with 
 the finest sculpture. Here the family of the Princes of San- 
 crro are buried, each tomb being ornamented with beautiful 
 figures, those of the females having a statue representing the 
 principal virtue of the lady in the tomb. One represents 
 
LETTERS. 77 
 
 modesty, and is covered with a veil of white marble, through 
 which the features and form are perfectly seen. It is one of 
 the rarest works of art in existence. Another represents 
 vice undeceived. A man is caught in a net, from which he 
 is endeavoring to extricate himself. The color and material 
 of the net are so well imitated, that when J. first caught a 
 glimpse of it, he said, " what is that net thrown there for ?" 
 It is all cut from one piece of marble. 
 
 But the most touchinor of all is the fiorure of Christ in the 
 tomb, covered with a veil supposed to J)e dampened by the 
 dews of death. I could hardly realize the drapery was of 
 marble, so easy and graceful were the folds. The border was 
 sculptured to imitate embroidery and was of a most perfect 
 finish. By the side of the body lay the crown of thorns, the 
 nails and the pincers, all cut from one block of marble. I 
 never saw any thing so beautiful as this statue. Again and 
 again we returned to look upon it, that it might be deeply 
 fixed in our memory. I felt as if I could not dwell long 
 enough upon the still, calm features of Christ, for even while 
 I looked, the vision seemed so little like earth, I feared it 
 would be snatched from my longing eyes. These three 
 statues are considered as master-pieces of genius, as neither 
 the ancient Greeks nor Romans ever seem to have attempted 
 showing the face and form through a veil. 
 
 We next visited the church of San Gennaro, the patron 
 saint of Naples, where his remains now repose. It is said 
 some of his blood is here kept, which liquefies twice or three 
 times a year, when crowds attend to witness the ceremony. 
 If there is any hindrance in the performance of the miracle, 
 the multitudes in the church testify their impatience by 
 groans and cries, but as soon as it is announced to be com- 
 pleted, shouts rend the air, as them prosperity is predicted. 
 I looked earnestly in the face of the priest who was telling 
 us of the various miracles performed by the Saint, to see if 
 he seemed to believe it, but he spoke as though not a shadow 
 of doubt had ever crossed his mind. We were told that 
 7* 
 
78 LETTERS. 
 
 when Napoleon was here, he visited this church, and as he 
 was anxious to see this miracle, he commanded the priests to 
 cause the blood to be liquefied. In vain they told him it 
 was impossible except at certain seasons of the year. The 
 misrhty conqueror was not thus to be baffled ; he grew an- 
 gry and threatened if it was not soon done to liquefy their 
 blood, so with trembling but with no more hesitation they 
 performed the miracle, probably by the use of some chemical 
 means. 
 
 In this church are thirty-six busts of solid silver, which 
 cost nearly one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. No 
 wonder that when a revolution takes place, the churches are 
 first demolished, for there the greatest riches and prizes are 
 found. 
 
 As we left this church we had six beggars around us, all 
 looking pitiable enough. What a contrast to the silver and 
 gold, and precious stones within the church ! When I look 
 around this beautiful land, this land of mountains and vales, 
 of wine and of oil, of the fig and the orange, when I see all 
 nature so luxuriant, and then turn my eyes on the filth, the 
 squalid wretchedness and poverty which meet me wherever I 
 go, my heart sickens within me, and I cannot help exclaim- 
 ing, " these things ought not so to be." 
 
 Constantly meeting, as we do so many priests, I had the 
 curiosity yesterday to attempt to count them, and in the 
 course of two hours' drive through the city, we met two 
 hundred and twenty-nine. The most of the time I could 
 see but one side of the street, and I did not reckon at all 
 those we saw in the churches, where at least were fifty more. 
 They all wear a black robe, and a broad-brimmed hat turned 
 Tip at the sides, so they are easily distinguished from other 
 classes of citizens. Francesco told us that if a gentleman 
 had a number of sons, the oldest took his father's property, 
 one became a soldier, and another a priest, and thus hun- 
 dreds of priests are supported by the people, already burden- 
 ed to oppression by taxes. 
 
LETTERS. 7"9 
 
 In the evening we took a walk in the king's garden which 
 is in front of our hotel, and lies between the street and the 
 bay. It is handsomely laid out with fine trees, and hedges, 
 and winding walks, and has a large fountain, and several 
 statues in different parts of it. There are also two little tem- 
 ples, their white pillars peeping out through the trees. On 
 our left was the beautiful bay of Naples, from which came 
 a soft and genial breeze. We walked through the whole 
 length of the garden, which extends about half a mile, and 
 then returned through the street to our hotel. This is one 
 of the principal streets of the city ; it was not very brilliantly 
 lit up, neither was there any great display in the shops. In- 
 deed, I think there are but few handsome shops in the city. 
 
 This morning we went quite early to the market. Here 
 was a busy scene indeed. The street was thronged with 
 people, come either to buy or sell. We saw the nicest cher- 
 ries and strawberries, and they are sold very cheap too. We 
 bought three or four quarts of cherries for about six cents. 
 There were all sorts of accommodations^for the eating pub- 
 lic to be seen around the market, which, by the way, is not 
 in a house as with us, but in the street. We saw miniature 
 cook shops, where ever so small a piece of meat might be 
 bought already cooked, and little boys were constantly going 
 round with tea and coffee, which they sold by the cup full. 
 The streets resounded with cries, some of them the strangest 
 noises I ever heard. Those that had the least to sell, I veri- 
 ly believe, cried the loudest, and uttered the most discordant 
 notes. In short, it was a scene of bustle and activity, and 
 as presenting a living picture of human nature, was full of 
 interest. It had however one drawback ; the streets were 
 so dirty that in some places they seemed almost impassable 
 for persons having on clothes any where approaching to 
 clean. 
 
 After breakfast we visited the castle St. Elmo, which 
 stands on a high hill just out of Naples. Here we had a 
 magnificent view of the country for miles around, and of a 
 
80 LETTERS. 
 
 part of the city ; the other side I was not permitted to see, 
 as you go within a monastery, to get the view, and the Pope 
 has decreed that no female shall go within the walls of a 
 monastery, so I was kept out while the more favored sex had 
 a view, which they pronounced delightful. We then de- 
 scended by a circuitous route to the tomb of Virgil, which 
 is on the hill immediately over the grotto of Posilippo, and 
 commands a fine view of the harbor and that part of the city 
 adjacent to it. The tomb is nearly circular, and has ten 
 niches in which were formerly cinerary urns, now no longer 
 to be seen. 
 
 We passed through the grotto of Posilippo, and after a 
 short ride came to the lake of Agnano, situated in the midst 
 of the most delightful scenery. It is almost surrounded by 
 mountains covered with trees and shrubs, now clothed with 
 the most beautiful verdure. This lake (supposed by some to 
 have been the crater of a volcano) and all the surrounding 
 country, belong to the king of Naples, and constitute his 
 fishing and hunting grounds. There is a beautiful little 
 lodge in the form of a chapel, built by a brother of the king. 
 From the roof of this little temple we had a charming view 
 of the lake and the country around it. 
 
 But the greatest curiosity is the Grotto del Cane, where 
 the air is so strongly impregnated with carbonic acid gas, 
 that it is dangerous to remain there a long time. We went 
 in and bent down our heads within two feet of the ground, 
 where the air came up like the gas that escapes from cham- 
 pagne, when it is first uncorked. A dog was carried in and 
 laid on the ground, when it almost instantly seemed as 
 though it were dying. Its breath came shorter and shorter, 
 its limbs were convulsed, its mouth was covered with froth, 
 and I suppose a few moments more would have terminated 
 its existence, and doubtless the same eifect would be pro- 
 duced on any individual who would stay there long enough. 
 But the dog was brought out and laid on the ground, and 
 soon began to revive, and then it breathed like a person 
 
LETTERS. 81 
 
 coming out of a f\iinting fit. After that it ran around, rub- 
 bed against our feet, rolled on the ground and acted just as 
 though it was intoxicated. 
 
 The man next took two torches into the grotto, but the 
 moment they were brought in contact with this stream of 
 gas, they went out. This was repeated several times. In 
 the lake, at a little distance from the bank, is a little spring 
 formed by this gas, which boils and bubbles up through the 
 water. 
 
 In another grotto, we found the air still more strongly im- 
 pregnated, so that after putting our faces down near the 
 ground, we could scarcely breathe, and in still another, there 
 was such a stream of hot vapor ascending from the earth, 
 that after we had been there a few seconds, the perspiration 
 started from every pore. Thus the mountains around Na- 
 ples seem to be full of inward fires, w^hich come out in dif- 
 ferent forms, wherever there is an opening. 
 
 As we returned home we met flocks of goats going to the 
 city after browsing on the hills during the day. Every 
 morning quite early I hear their little tinkling bells, as they 
 are driven by out of the city. They are stepped at those 
 houses where their milk is wanted, and milked according to 
 demand. 
 
 In passing by the palace of the Minister of State, a hand- 
 some carriage with two coachmen, two footmen and one 
 outrider, drew up before the door. On the seat of the car- 
 riage sat in solitary dignity a dog ! I do not know that all 
 this dashing out was for the mere purpose of taking the dog 
 to ride ; perhaps its master had stopped somewhere, and sent 
 it home, but any way, it looked ludicrous enough to see a 
 little dog perched up there in that style. 
 
 Just after I commenced writing this evening, we heard 
 the firing of guns and rockets, and J. went out to see what 
 was going on. He soon came back for me to go and see a 
 church that was illuminated. I felt as though nothing would 
 tempt me to go out again, but as he said it was near, I con- 
 
88 LETTERS. 
 
 sented to go. It was a small church, but the front was one 
 blaze of light. On the outside small candles were fixed in 
 slanting rows. The cross on the top had lights all round it. 
 I suppose it is the eve of some saint's day. 
 
 And now it is quite time for me to bring this long letter 
 to a close, but not before I tell you how disappointed we 
 have been in not receiving letters from you here. We left 
 orders with our banker at Paris to forward any letters that 
 would come before the fifteenth of May, expecting you would 
 write by the steamer of the last of April. Well, we still 
 must hope, though two months seem a long time to be 
 without hearing from those we love and have left. 
 
 Sunday evening. 
 
 I open my letter to tell you a little of our Sunday in Na- 
 ples. We went this morning to the English chapel, in the 
 palace of the British Ambassador. It affected me to tears 
 to hear again the service I so much love. It seemed as 
 though time and place were forgotten; I no longer felt " a 
 stranger in a strange land." There was some difference in 
 the service ; that being adapted to the English church, of 
 course much mention was made of the Queen and the royal 
 family. But the " Te Deum," that glorious hymn, was the 
 same ; the words of the chants, the creed and most of the 
 prayers were the same. I felt as though I was once more in 
 my own home. 
 
 This afternoon, at five o'clock, we went to one of the 
 Romish churches, where we heard there was to be some good 
 music. It is a fine looking church and is much ornamented ; 
 all its chapels are hung with crimson and white curtains. 
 We procured some chairs, for there are no pews in any of 
 these churches. We sat a loner time waiting for the service 
 to commence; at last we began to think we were hoaxed, 
 but on looking round, we saw that nearly all the congrega- 
 tion was seated, and we knew they would not be at the ex- 
 pense of hiring chairs (though it is only about two cents 
 
LETTERS. 83 
 
 a-piece,) unless something unusual was going to take place. 
 We amused ourselves with looking about, and particularly 
 with observing the conduct of the soldiers that were station- 
 ed around the church. They stood at their posts immovable 
 as rocks, neither looking to the right hand nor the left. After 
 waiting at least an hour, there appeared in the pulpit a man 
 richly robed, having on his head a bishop's or archbishop's 
 cap. He had no notes, but spoke very fluently, sometimes 
 in Latin, and sometimes in Italian. On one of the fingers 
 of his right hand sparkled a magnificent diamond ring. I 
 thought he never would get through, and began to fear we 
 should have to go home without any music, for it was getting 
 near dinner time; but, just then, I saw movements around 
 the organ, and as soon as the prosy speaker had finished, the 
 organ gallery was filled. I should think there were fifty per- 
 formers. There were two organs, several violins, flutes, bu- 
 gles, trumpets, drums, &lc. The music was grand, I never 
 heard any thing to equal it. Then there was a good deal of 
 singing too, all done by males. One man sang so like a 
 female, that if he had been behind a curtain I should have 
 insisted upon it that it was a female, the voice was so sweet, 
 so rich, and yet so powerful. There were several boys too 
 that sang admirably. Amid all this melody there came in a 
 procession of priests, clothed in the richest robes, preceded 
 by two soldiers to clear the way, and by men bearing large 
 candles. 
 
 The candles around the altar were lit, one by one, till the 
 whole was one blaze of light and splendor. The image of 
 Christ, back of the altar, was illuminated, more than one 
 hundred candles being around it, and I should judge more 
 than five hundred in all about the altar, besides the dozens of 
 chandeliers in various parts of the church. There was a 
 great deal of ceremony, which of course we did not under- 
 stand ; incense in profusion was burnt which filled the 
 church with its rich odor. All this, the brilliancy, the splen- 
 dor, the pomp and parade, produced a scene I never expected 
 
84 LETTERS. 
 
 to have witnessed. I no longer wondered at the sway which 
 this religion has over the minds of the people. I no longer 
 marvelled that they gave their last mite to contribute to such 
 pageantry. 
 
 I should think there were more than five thousand people 
 present this evening. The outside of the church and the 
 buildings around were illuminated, and the streets were 
 thronged. 
 
 On our return we found Mr. D. in the greatest trouble 
 about us ; he was on the point of sending to the consul's to 
 see what should be done. The waiters seemed in like anxie- 
 ty, though I think it was as much on account of their dinner 
 being spoiled as for fear of our being lost or carried away. 
 And now behold the end of this long letter. As ever, yours. 
 
 Naples, Monday evening. 
 My dearest P : 
 
 We have accomplished to-day our trip to Vesuvius, and I 
 think when you hear the particulars, you will say with me, 
 that it is indeed, no light affair to go there and back in one 
 day. We had in addition to our usual party the company 
 of Mr. T., an American gentleman, who is on his way 
 home from China. We started by four o'clock, and at that 
 early hour found the streets very quiet. We saw several 
 men asleep in the streets, the lazzaroni, I suppose, those 
 who know not one night where they shall sleep the next, un- 
 less indeed it be in the open air. 
 
 We passed along the same road that leads to Pompeii, till 
 just beyond Portici, where we turned off, and soon came to 
 Rosina, a dirty little town, where we left the carriage. 
 Here we expected to find donkeys to take us up the moun- 
 tain, but to our disappointment, could not succeed in pro- 
 curing any. Now the idea of riding on a donkey had been 
 
LETTERS. 85 
 
 rather pleasant than otherwise to me, and for several reasons. 
 First, because they are so small, if you fall, you can 't fall 
 far; secondly, they are very sure-footed, and lastly (and 
 which I am not sure was not the strongest reason after all,) 
 it would be something novel to write to you about, but the 
 idea of mounting a great high horse had never entered my 
 head, for you know the perfect fear I have always had of 
 horseback riding. At first 1 declared I v.'ould not and could 
 not go, and then I knew that all my life long, I should regret 
 that I had thus relinquished the attempt to visit Vesuvius, so 
 not without some groans and sighs, and even a few tears, I 
 mounted. I know you will laugh at these fears and call them 
 childish, but I can't help it if you do ; I shall tell you just 
 how I felt about it, laugh or not. For the first half hour I 
 trembled so that I could think of nothing but keeping my 
 seat, though the guide attempted to console me by assuring 
 me in two languages, that there was " no danger de tout." 
 At last after I became accustomed to my seat, I began to 
 look around me, and then my sen^ of the ludicrous came to 
 my aid, and as I looked on our cavalcade, I laughed heartily 
 and for a time forgot my fears. Shall I describe our party 
 to you ? 
 
 First was Mr. D. well mounted, then came Mr. T. on a 
 donkey, for he had contrived some way to procure one. 
 Now he is quite a tall man, and his legs dangled on both 
 sides of the donkey in rather dangerous proximity to the 
 ground. Behind, holding on to the donkey's tail ran his 
 guide (a queer place by the way for a guide) who ever and 
 anon gave the animal a smart stroke with a great stick he 
 carried in his hand, causing him to give a sudden start, 
 thereby sending Mr. T. almost over his head, so that I 
 thought he would have a chance of getting to Vesuvius even 
 before the donkey. Then, mounted on a great, black horse, 
 came my humble self in my usual travelling dress, with my 
 feet encased in a pair of great, stout, leather boots, which 
 were bought at the enormous price of sixty cents, and which 
 8 
 
S6 LETTERS. 
 
 showed to excellent advantage on horseback My saddle was 
 semicircular, with high back and sides, so that it seemed 
 impossible for me to fall. One guide walked at the head of 
 my horse, and another at my side, while Francesco kept 
 close behind me. Then came J., and as his horse had the 
 misfortune to lose a shoe, he was obliged to dismount and 
 walk a part of the way. A motley set of men and boys 
 brought up the rear, though what they went for is more than 
 I can tell, for we repeatedly told them we had no need of 
 their services, as we already had four or five guides. Gentle 
 reader, whoever thou art, who by my clemency art permitted 
 to read these letters, thinkest thou not we presented a fine 
 appearance, as we wended our way up the stony sides of 
 Vesuvius ? 
 
 But the road ! never before did mortal man see such a 
 one. Imagine a steep, continual hill for nearly five miles, 
 strew the road with as many stones of all shapes and sizes as 
 you think it can well bear, and you will have a faint idea of 
 the horse-path up the mountain. At the Hermitage, a dis- 
 mal looking sort of a convent, we stopped and got some re- 
 freshments, (I suppose they were called) though they were 
 any thing but refreshing to us, and about a mile and a half 
 from there left our horses. Glad was I to find myself on 
 my feet once more, and I felt assured that as this was my 
 first attempt at ascending mountains on horseback, so it 
 should be my last. 
 
 And now came the labor. The mountain side was cov- 
 ered with large pieces of lava, which however served as step- 
 ping-stones, so that 1 did not find the ascent so difficult as I 
 had apprehended. I had heard gentlemen at the hotel speak 
 of it as dreadful, and one Englishman said that I never could 
 get up without being carried, but Mr. D. told him he did not 
 know how much the New England girls could do. The way 
 that ladies usually go, is in a chair borne by two men, but I 
 chose to trust to my own feet, and got up without any assist- 
 ance except a huge cane that I carried, and we stopped but 
 
LETTERS. 87 
 
 twice to rest, though we were an hour and a half in climbing 
 
 up- 
 
 I was very much surprised at the near view of this moun- 
 tain, it is so entirely different from what I had even imagin- 
 ed. I had always thought the smoke and flames came from 
 the very top of the mountain, but instead of this there is an 
 opening of more than three miles in circumference, which is 
 called the upper crater. This opening slopes down for near- 
 ly a half mile, and there in the centre is the inner crater, the 
 crater from which issue the smoke and the flames. Though 
 it was different from what I expected, yet it was a grand 
 sight. 
 
 As we stood upon the edge of the upper crater and looked 
 down, we saw volumes of smoke and lurid flames constantly 
 bursting out, accompanied by a roaring sound like the heavy 
 surge of the sea, and as the wind blew the smoke from us, 
 we could see the masses of molten lava beating back and 
 forth. It seems strange how from such a place, so deep 
 down, and surrounded by the high walls of the upper crater, 
 such an immense quantity of lava can be thrown as to de- 
 vastate the country, but it shows the amazing power of the 
 volcano. 
 
 All around the inside and outside of the upper crater were 
 openings from which smoke issued. This, connected with 
 the fact, that in all the mountains around Naples, there are 
 so many boiling springs, shows that within this range of 
 mountains, fire is constantly burning, and I have no doubt 
 that in the course of time, though it may take ages to ac- 
 complish it, this fire will burst out and the whole country 
 will be laid waste before its desolating power. If so, one of 
 the fairest pages in nature's book will be blotted out. 
 
 In one place there was an opening in the crater, where 
 Francesco put some eggs which were soon roasted, and in 
 another the heat was so intense that one of our canes, a few 
 moments after it was put in, was burnt to cinders. We had 
 to step briskly round, I can assure you, for the ground every 
 
98 LETTERS. 
 
 where was so hot, that we dared not stop a minute in any 
 one place for fear of burning our feet. All around us were 
 remains of different eruptions. Continued changes are go- 
 ing on. Several old craters were pointed out to us, and the 
 present one has only been a few years as it now is. Oh, 
 how manifold, how varied are the works of God ! Here is 
 this smoking, fiery mountain, a constant dread and scourge 
 to the country, while at its feet lies one of the most beautiful 
 scenes upon which the eye ever rested. 
 
 From this elevated height we had a fine view of Naples, 
 and the adjcMiiing country for miles. In the bay of Naples I 
 have been somewhat disappointed. Though beautiful and 
 very capacious, it fell rather short of my expectations, raised 
 as they had been to a high pitch by the exaggerated ac- 
 counts of travellers. The bay is finely fortified by nature, 
 having mountainous promontories extending far down on 
 either side. At its entrance is the Island of Capri which is 
 elevated some distance above the sea. Naples lies in a serai- 
 circle around the bay, and is compactly built, so that it does 
 not present such an extended surface as many cities of the 
 like number of inhabitants. The sea was seen far and nigh, 
 running up into the shore in little bays and gulfs, and lay so 
 placid that it seemed more like a representation of death 
 than a thing of life. Around Naples, the country was spread 
 out like a garden, and was dotted with palaces and villas and 
 villages, and to crown all, a lofty range of mountains bounded 
 the view, on whose summits the snow lay in masses, like 
 heavy white clouds. On the other side of Vesuvius the ruin- 
 ed walls and houses of Pc mpeii were seen. The fields ad- 
 joining, were some of them rich and green, while others were 
 blackened by the lava which in former days had rolled down 
 the mountain side. And this is Vesuvius, old Vesuvius of 
 which I have often read, and on which I have oft pondered 
 in my childish days. Alas! what terror has this mountain 
 produced ! 
 
 Many are the eyes which are daily turned towards its sura- 
 
LETTERS. 89 
 
 mit, and bright are those eyes, if the smoke is seen curling 
 up, but sad, most sad, if no smoke is seen for several days, 
 for then an eruption is sure to occur. Processions of bare- 
 footed people are then seen thronging to the church of St. Gen- 
 naro to beseech their patron saint to avert the dreadful doom. 
 Ah! do none pray to Him, the great and mighty God who 
 orders all these things for his people's good? But if no great 
 eruption takes place, all is joy and forgetfulness of the past 
 and the future, and thus they live on, knowing that fire is all 
 around them, and yet " they buy and sell and get gain," 
 " they marry and are given in marriage," though they know 
 not but that each day may bring their destruction. Deluded 
 people ! how I pity them ! Doubtless it is for the wise purpose 
 of teaching them to prepare for eternity, that God permits 
 this column of fire and smoke to be a perpetual beacon to 
 them. 
 
 Our descent was accomplished in a few minutes. We 
 came down by a different path from that by which we as- 
 cended. Though it was easy to come down by it, it would 
 be by no means so to go up, as we were more than ankle 
 deep in ashes every step we took. All we had to do was to 
 throw our bodies back so as to avoid fallir>g and then slip 
 along. Here I found my boots very serviceable, as they 
 protected my feet from the ashes. We once more mounted 
 our horses and got to Rosin a without difficulty, and with 
 extorting only a few groans from me as we came to a very 
 bad place. 
 
 A new road is reported to be in contemplation from Ro- 
 sina to the Hermitage, which it is said will cost four hundred 
 thousand dollars, though Francesco said " the Lord only 
 knew where the money was to come from," but I could 
 have told him, it would come from the people, already 
 poor and oppressed ; a little more grinding down would ex- 
 tort it from them ; a little more multiplication of the poor 
 that are already seen in too great abundance, and the money 
 will be forthcoming. When I look upon this beautiful 
 8* 
 
98 LETTERS. 
 
 country, smiling with plenty, and behold the fields, the road- 
 side and the very mountain tops, carried to the highest state 
 of cultivation, when I see the clear bright sky and feel the 
 rich, warm sun of Italy, and then contrast this scene of per- 
 fect loveliness with the degradation and want around me, I 
 cannot but sigh that this Eden should be converted into a 
 vale of misery. 
 
 Such a scene as v/e had when we got to Rosin a, the men 
 were so clamorous for their pay. Our guides though, de- 
 manded but thirty cents a-piece for their services, but then 
 they expected the like sum for their fee as " buono mano.'* 
 Besides, all that followed in our train, though repeatedly told 
 to go back, had the boldness to ask pay for their escort, and 
 one man on being refused, threw himself on the ground in a 
 transport of rage, tore his hair and uttered the most dismal 
 shrieks. 
 
 We got back to our hotel by two. The gentlemen of our 
 party sought rest in sleep. I took a warm bath, and then sat 
 down to write, and when I appeared at the dinner table, 
 none of the English gentlemen there could believe that I 
 had been to Vesuvius and got back again, with so little 
 apparent fatigue. 
 
 After dinner we took a short walk. The streets were 
 thronged with carriages, with liveried coachmen and footmen. 
 Many of the inhabitants here, make a great show in the 
 street, dashing out every evening in the fashionable prome- 
 nade, dressed in their best, though I am told a great part of 
 this is outside show. Many of the higher classes in Naples 
 do not rise till nine, when they take a light breakfast ; at 
 twelve or one they dine, after which they sleep till about five, 
 when they get up, dress and ride out. The fashionable ride 
 is up and down our street, so we have a fine opportunity 
 while at dinner to see the carriages pass. 
 
 But just think how early I was up this morning, so blame 
 me not if I bid you an abrupt good night. 
 
LETTERS. ^1 
 
 Tuesday evening. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 This is our last day in Naples, so we have been pretty 
 busy in looking around us ; all our arrangements are made 
 for starting to-morrow morning for Rome, our passports are 
 signed and our seats engaged in the Diligence. This morn- 
 ing we went out to Portici and visited the royal palace there, 
 the tickets for which were kindly given us by the American 
 consul here. I believe I have said nothing to you about the 
 streets of Naples. They are quite narrow, and have no side- 
 walks at all, so that when we are on foot, we are in constant 
 fear of being run over. They are paved with large flat 
 stones, very easy to walk on, but difficult for horses as they 
 are apt to slip upon them particularly in wet weather. 
 
 The roads around Naples are excellent ; we generally have 
 an open barouche and two good horses, for as I told you 
 before, carriage hire is very reasonable here. The coach- 
 man, to be sure expects his " buono mano," in addition to 
 liis pay, but then their wages are very low, being but forty 
 cents a day, and they are required to be out from daylight to 
 midnight. A coachman rarely leaves his horses, generally 
 a boy lets down the steps for you and then he expects a fee. 
 You can have no idea of the vast number of fees that are 
 here extorted. If you visit a palace, church or museum, 
 and fine looking men in military costume, show you around, 
 you must put a fee in their hands, and if it is not what they 
 expect, they will follow you, and Oliver like, " ask for more." 
 Even my boot-maker the other day demanded an extra car- 
 lini (eight cents) to buy a bottle of wine that he might drink 
 my health. At all the hotels thus far we have been charged 
 a franc a-piece each day for servants' fees, and this is much 
 better than not to have a fixed price, as all are then more 
 easily satisfied. But I have wandered far from my subject. 
 Come we now to the palace of Portici. It is a large build- 
 ing, is painted yellow, and is without any claims to external 
 
92 LETTERS. 
 
 beauty. The rooms though, are very finely furnished ; 
 some of them were floored with mosaics brought from Pom- 
 peii, but the most of them with brick or tile, highly polished. 
 The queen's bed-room was lined with yellow satin, and the 
 bed curtains, and coverings of the chairs and sofa were all 
 of the same material. Within the bed curtains hung two 
 crosses, and the guide told us the queen always crossed her- 
 self before getting up. In her dressing-room was a little 
 recess, where was an altar on which were a crucifix, vases of 
 flowers and wax candles. Before the altar was a crimson 
 cushion, on which her majesty kneels, and here she comes 
 every morning before dressing to say her prayers. But I 
 saw no oratory in any of the king's rooms, though the guide 
 vindicated his piety by saying that he always said his prayers 
 before dressing. *' Well," I told him, " they all have need 
 enough of praying," which made him open his eyes quite wide, 
 to hear any one speak so lightly of a king. The king's bed- 
 chamber was lined with blue satin. Here were several bells, 
 each named, one having on the cord " secretary," another, 
 *■' chamberlain," &lc., so that whatever person of his royal 
 household is wanted, he has only to ring that particular bell. 
 In one room the walls were of china, painted and adorned 
 with large figures. One large room was fitted up for a thea- 
 tre, where their majesties might be amused with a play with- 
 out going out of the palace. The garden was extensive, but 
 not to be compared in beauty with the gardens in Genoa. 
 The park was large, and had broad walks shaded with fine, 
 old trees. In a little lodge in the back part of the park, was 
 a room where the old king used to dine alone. In the cen- 
 tre of the room was a circular table in which were four 
 openings with covers to them. Underneath these covers 
 were several bells, each numbered, and having a label on 
 which were names of different dishes. As soon as he rung 
 one of the bells, the cover sprang off, and up came the very 
 dish he wanted. As this was something quite new, I thought 
 I would put it down for your amusement. 
 
LETTERS. 98 
 
 In another part of the park were enclosures, in which 
 were some kangaroos, two lions and some antelopes. 
 
 On our way back we met numbers of a curious sort of 
 carriage in which the country people ride to and from Naples, 
 for a very small sum. It somewhat resembles an old- 
 fashioned chaise but without any top. Now you would think 
 from this description, that but few could ride in one of these 
 vehicles, as from time immemorial the expression " three in 
 a chaise " has been used to signify a crowded condition, but 
 we generally see from fifteen to twenty persons at once in 
 one of these carriages ; they stand on the top, sit on the 
 shafts, hang on behind, and even swing underneath, a kind 
 of net being fixed for their accommodation. Nor do they 
 go slowly either, as you might suppose from such a load, but 
 they rattle over the road at the rate of eight or ten miles an 
 hour, and that too with but one horse. 
 
 What practical phrenologists the Neapolitans are ! I 
 never ride out, without seeing an examination of heads 
 going on, though bumps do not seem to be exactly the things 
 sought after, as they look too deeply into the hair for that. 
 However, if you can 't guess what I mean, you must wait 
 till you see a woman with her child's head in her lap, busily 
 looking into that head and examining it, and you will then 
 know what I here mean by practical phrenology. 
 
 While we were at dinner to-day, the waiter came in, and 
 said the king was coming by. We ran to the window and 
 had the pleasure of seeing their majesties ride by, in a car- 
 riage drawn by four horses, with one out-rider, two grooms 
 and two footmen. The queen had on a pink satin bonnet, 
 and looked like a small woman, but her face being turned 
 from me, I could form no distinct idea of her looks. The 
 king is rather a large, portly man, but he had a glass to his 
 eye, and his hand shaded his face so much that I could see 
 but little of it. Several carriages preceded and followed 
 them, but there was no other appearance of state or style. 
 The carriages that were in the street drew up as the royal 
 
^i LETTERS. 
 
 cavalcade passed, but there was no other outward demonstra- 
 tion of respect, except by the gentlemen taking off their hats. 
 And thus we have seen a real king and queen, and find that 
 they look and dress like other people. 
 
 And now we have looked our last upon Naples. The 
 weather has been delightful since we have been here. It has 
 been warm, but there has been* a soft breeze from the bay 
 which has tempered the air, so that it has never been oppres- 
 sive. That our time has been fully occupied, may be seen 
 from my letters. And now we turn towards Rome, and 
 there among other pleasures, we hope to have that of hearing 
 from our distant home. Adieu. 
 
 Rome, Friday. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 And now we are in Rome ! Rome, once the mistress of 
 the world, now the seat of desolation and ruin — Rome, 
 where once resided poets and orators and statesmen, the 
 wise, the great and the good. Here too lived emperors and 
 kings, some a blessing, others a scourge to the country, to 
 the world. And now we are in Rome — now shall we tread 
 its classic soil ; now shall we walk where genius oft has trod, 
 where learning and eloquence have made the ground, as it 
 were, holy. 
 
 We left Naples by four o'clock Wednesday morning in 
 the Diligence. Our faithful Francesco kept by the side of 
 the carriage till we were beyond the precincts of the city j 
 then with many bows and hearty wishes for our future jour- 
 ney, he left us. We enjoyed the ride on Wednesday very 
 much. The country was very pleasant, very fertile and 
 generally well cultivated. We were in view of the sea 
 almost the whole day. We passed by real orchards of 
 lemons and oranges, some of the trees bending beneath their 
 golden fruit, and others white with their odorous blossoms. 
 
LETTERS. 95 
 
 We stopped all night at Terracina. The waves of the sea 
 dashed against the lower part of our inn, so that several 
 times we thought we must be really out at sea. For the 
 first time since I left my home, I suffered from sickness, and 
 that night I was so exceedingly ill that I got no rest at all, 
 so that I slept almost the whole day yesterday, not even 
 waking up while passing over the far-famed Pontine marshes. 
 Two or three miles before reaching Rome, we passed magni- 
 ficent ruins of ancient aqueducts, some of them extending 
 more than a mile in length. We were stopped at the en- 
 trance to the city and our baggage well examined, which 
 operation, by the way, was also gone through with at Terra- 
 cina. 
 
 We are now at the Hotel d'Europe. Mr. T. came 
 with us from Naples, and is stopping here, forming one of 
 our party. We engaged our '' valet de place," John by 
 name, yesterday afternoon, and to-day commenced the rounds 
 of sight-seeing. My first impressions of Rome are a little 
 different from what I had anticipated. The ruins I thought 
 were interspersed among the houses, thus giving the city a 
 deserted and desolate appearance, but they are mostly out of 
 the heart of the city. The streets of modern Rome are 
 narrow, and the houses high, as in all foreign cities we have 
 visited. This has one advantage, the streets are always 
 shady and rather cool. 
 
 In our walks this morning we passed the " College of 
 Propaganda." Here students are educated at public expense 
 for the ministry, to propagate the Romish religion far and 
 wide. Here they are taught in all languages, in order that 
 they may be fitted to go into foreign lands and teach their 
 faith to every creature. 
 
 We then came to the Palazza Colonna, a part of which is 
 at present occupied by the French ambassador. We were 
 only shown the rooms where the paintings are. There are 
 several small rooms and one long gallery, said to be the 
 finest gallery in Rome. It is two hundred and nine feet 
 
96 LETTERS. 
 
 long and thirty-five broad. At each extremity is a vestibule 
 separated from the rest of the gallery, by pillars of yellow 
 marble called '* giallo antico." The ceiling is beautifully 
 painted representing the battle of Lepanto. Ycu cannot 
 expect me to give you lengthened descriptions of the pic- 
 tures in this gallery. I should not have the time to write 
 them, and I think you would hardly have the patience to 
 read them after they were written. Suffice it to say the 
 paintings here were by the first artists, the Caracci, Van- 
 dyke, Rubens, Salvator Rosa, Poussin, and a host of others 
 too numerous to mention. One picture particularly struck 
 my attention, not that it was better than all the others, but 
 because it was so very natural. It was by Caracci, and rep- 
 resented a peasant eating. Before him was a dish of peas, 
 a spoonful of which he was in the act of raising to his 
 mouth, and near this were a few onions and a glass of wine. 
 It was one of the most natural pictures of every-day life I 
 ever saw. 
 
 We passed the Fountain of Trevi, called one of the most 
 beautiful fountains in the world. The water is brought by 
 an aqueduct more than seven miles, and falls in little cas- 
 cades over rocks. The fountain is ornamented with three 
 statues, representing Neptune, Health and Abundance. 
 
 We stopped at the temple of Nerva, which was built by 
 Trajan in honor of Nerva. A portico now only remains 
 which consists of three magnificent columns of Parian mar- 
 ble, fluted in the Corinthian style. They are fifty-five feet in 
 height and sixteen round. Near this is the temple of Pallas, 
 which is also in ruins. It is half buried in the earth ; two 
 large pillars only are seen with the entablature and frieze, 
 which are beautifully sculptured, though some parts were 
 defaced by the barbarians. 
 
 We then went to the Forum of Trajan, which is some 
 feet lower than the streets of Rome. In fact all ancient 
 Rome is much lower than modern. Some say this is owing 
 to earthquakes, others (which is the more probable reason) 
 
LETTERS. 97 
 
 that when the Goths and Vandals sacked Rome and nearly 
 overturned the whole city, the remains of the houses and 
 temples lay in such heaps upon the ground, that when the 
 city was built up again it was upon that foundation, and 
 without removing the rubbish at all. This Forum was once 
 much more extensive than it is at present, much of it having 
 been built over. At the upper end of it stands Trajan's pil- 
 lar, erected by the senate and people of Rome in the begin- 
 ing of the second century, in honor of his victories over the 
 Daci. It is a magnificent pillar of the Doric order, and is 
 composed of thirty-four blocks of white marble, which how- 
 ever have become discolored by time. On the top was once 
 a statue of Trajan, but it is now displaced by one of St. 
 Peter, holding in his hand the keys of heaven. All around 
 this forum are pillars of grey granite, some broken off near 
 the base, and others a little higher up ; none are left entire. 
 Lying on the ground was an immense pillar of polished 
 Egyptian granite, which was discovered in the cellar of a 
 neighboring house by some workmen. At a little distance 
 from this forum, but now quite under ground, are the shops 
 that once surrounded it. Some of them are in a good state 
 of preservation, most of the arches being entire. Here too 
 are the ancient baths, in some of which there is water at the 
 present time. 
 
 We next visited the site of the Forum Romanum. Here 
 were magnificent ruins ; but oh ! where in Rome are ruins 
 not to be seen ? Here were the arch of Septimius Severus, 
 and remains of the temples of Concord, of Fortune and of 
 Jupiter the Thunderer. Beyond these was the temple of 
 Antoninus and Faustina. The portico (which now adorns 
 a church) and the side walls are in an excellent state of 
 preservation. 
 
 Soon after, we passed under the Arch of Titus, built of 
 
 Pentelican marble, and dedicated to Titus in honor of his 
 
 conquest of Jerusalem. On this arch are sculptured his 
 
 victories, his triumphal procession and the spoils of Jerusa- 
 
 9 
 
98 LETTERS. 
 
 lem, and here is said to be the best likeness of him now ex- 
 tant. 
 
 At a little distance from this is the Arch of Constantine, 
 built in honor of his victory over Maxentius. It is the best 
 edifice of the kind now remaining in Rome. It is composed 
 of three arches, the central one being the largest. It has 
 on each front four fluted Corinthian columns, part being of 
 giallo antico, and part of white marble. It is covered with 
 sculpture, and the whole is in an excellent state of preserva- 
 tion. 
 
 When we had duly observed all these ruins, we were tired 
 enough to come home, though John told us there was 
 enough in that vicinity to keep us three or four hours longer. 
 However we preferred to wait and see them another day. 
 Besides it was getting near dinner time. 
 
 After dinner we rode out. We passed along the Corse, 
 the fashionable street for driving, but a shower coming on it 
 was soon quite deserted. We then rode upon the Pincian 
 hill, a most beautiful ride, shaded with fine trees, and com- 
 manding a magnificent view of Rome and its environs. And 
 thus has ended our first day's sight-seeing in Rome, and I 
 assure you my eyes already begin to ache, so for the present 
 I leave you. 
 
 Rome, Saturday. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Already we find a difference in the air of Rome from that 
 of Naples. We no longer feel the cool sea breeze, and find 
 the heat quite as great here as it is with us in the middle of 
 July. That we may accomplish our sight-seeing with as lit- 
 tle fatigue as possible, we have engaged an open barouche 
 for the remainder of our stay here, and we have spent the 
 most of this day in riding around and gazing upon the won- 
 ders of Rome. 
 
LETTERS. 99 
 
 We went first to the Pantheon, the only temple of ancient 
 Rome now remaining entire. This was dedicated to all the 
 gods, and for this reason it was preserved when others were 
 destroyed, for when Rome was at different times overthrown, 
 and foreign nations came in to take possession, they found 
 in this temple a statue of their own particular god. It is in 
 shape circular, and has a magnificent portico in front, sup- 
 ported by sixteen pillars of the Corinthian order. The in- 
 terior is almost entirely the same as when first built, except- 
 ing of course the change which must necessarily take place 
 in converting a pagan into a Christian temple. Some of the 
 statues have been displaced, others have been baptized by a 
 Christian name ; and the one, which for aught I know, was 
 once Jupiter the thunderer, is now Paul the apostle to the 
 Gentiles ; and that which in days long since gone by, was 
 Mars, the fiery god of war, is now John the gentle. Sereral 
 altars have been erected, but the pillars, the ceiling, the 
 niches, the marble pavement remain the same as in days of 
 yore, when the ancient Romans came in their pride and 
 pomp, to lay their offerings at the feet of their gods. A 
 magnificent dome surmounts the edifice, from a circular 
 window in which comes all the light that is admitted into 
 the interior. If this church had not been consecrated to 
 the service of the living God, it would almost be holy ground, 
 for here repose the remains of two whose names are in all 
 the world, Raphael, and Annibale Caracci. 
 
 Over one of the altars is the statue of a virgin, which has 
 performed many miracles. Here a lame man was cured by 
 its efficacy, so that he cast away his crutches, and became 
 whole from that self-same hour, which crutches are now 
 shown for the edification of the faithful. For some time she 
 has ceased to perform miracles, but in another church there 
 is one, according to John's story, that is indeed wonderful. 
 He told us that there was always one church where miracles 
 were wrought, and when that church became rich by them, 
 they ceased there but soon commenced in another and so on, 
 till in process of time all the churches would get rich. 
 
100 LETTERS. 
 
 On another statue in the Pantheon, was placed a number 
 of medals ; these were proofs of vows promised and paid. 
 For instance, if a man is sick -he vows before this saint, that 
 if he is restored to health, he will pay so much as a tribute 
 to her, which tribute he brings in the form of a silver medal, 
 or some such thing, and places it on the statue. On all 
 these medals were letters signifying " for grace received," 
 We asked John if he believed all that he had been telling 
 us. He shrugged his shoulders, and said he knew too much 
 to do that. 
 
 We passed by the Theatre of Marcellus, and the Palace of 
 Octavia, both now in ruins, and came to the Arch of Janus 
 Quadrifrons. This is a square building, composed of im- 
 mense blocks of Grecian marble, and has an arch in the 
 centre of each front. 
 
 Near this we saw the Cloaca Maxima, or great drain con- 
 structed by Tarquinius Priscus, to carry into the Tiber the 
 filth and dirt of the city. This was one of the most useful 
 works ever undertaken in Rome, as it contributed much to 
 the health and cleanliness of the city. It has however been 
 so much filled up of late years, that the arches are not near 
 so high as they formerly were. 
 
 We then went to the tomb of Caius Cestus, built in the 
 form of a pyramid. It is one hundred and thirty-three feet 
 in height and is adorned in front with two obelisks. We 
 went inside of the pyramid. The walls were originally de- 
 corated with paintings, some of which are even now in a 
 good state of preservation, notwithstanding the lapse of years 
 and the dampness of the place. They are not seen to good 
 advantage however, as they are high up on the walls, and 
 can be viewed only by torch-light. One painting represent- 
 ed a dancing girl, a queer ornament you will think for a 
 tomb. 
 
 We then went out of the city a little distance to the 
 Church of St. Paul. This magnificent edifice which was 
 built in the time of Constantine, has lately been nearly de- 
 
LETTERS. 101 
 
 stroyed by fire. It is now undergoing the most thorough re- 
 pairs. It is in the form of a Latin cross, and is two hun- 
 dred and forty feet long. The upper part of the cross is all 
 that is finished at present, but this is one of the most perfect 
 things I ever saw. The floor is of marble, the walls, pillars, 
 altars, steps, in short every thing but the ceiling is of white 
 marble with veins of the most delicate violet color, and 
 hence called violet marble. The ceiling is of wood, paint- 
 ed white and beautifully carved and gilded. The ceiling 
 of one of the chapels is covered with figures as large as life, 
 done in mosaic. There are two immense pillars of marble 
 brought from the Simplon, and I believe presented by Napo- 
 leon, but I dare not be too sure about it. In this church is 
 the mausoleum of St. Paul, supported by pillars of porphyry 
 and surrounded by a railing of white marble. Here repose 
 a part of the remains of that apostle. This tomb was left 
 unscathed by the fire, which doubtless is considered a mir- 
 acle. Altogether this church, at least so far as it is finished, 
 is one of the most perfectly beautiful I have ever seen. It 
 has not the heavy, splendid ornaments of some churches, but 
 there is a richness, a chasteness, a purity about it, entirely 
 unsurpassed. It is computed that it will cost thirty-five 
 millions of dollars to rebuild it. 
 
 As we rode back we stopped on the Aventine Hill, where 
 we passed through two nice gardens, and had fine views of 
 the city. Here we visited the Church of St. Alexius. This 
 Alexius was the son of a senator ; he went to the Holy 
 Land, whence he returned as a pilgrim, and without reveal- 
 ing his name, went to his father's house, where he lived on 
 charity, and finally died under the staircase. As soon as he 
 was dead, it was discovered who he was ; then all the bells 
 in Rome were rung, and he was canonized as a saint. In 
 honor of him this church was built, and within it is a splen- 
 did tomb erected to his memory. The staircase under which 
 he died was put into a glass case, and is now actually sus- 
 pended over his tomb. In this church is a beautiful little 
 9* 
 
102 LETTERS. 
 
 tabernacle of porphyry, presented by the King of Spain, and 
 costing, it is said, ten thousand dollars. It is used for hold- 
 ing the consecrated bread. 
 
 After we came back into the city we stopped at the Palazza 
 Spada, in one of the rooms of which stands a large statue 
 of a warrior, holding a globe in his hand, and supposed to 
 be the very statue of Pompey at whose feet " great Caesar " 
 fell. Here too are some ancient sculpture and fine basso-re- 
 lievo taken from the Temple of Bacchus ; and a good collec- 
 tion of paintings, the best of which is Dido on the funeral 
 pile, for which the owner has lately been offered fourteen 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 We passed near the Jews' quarter of the city, and as I felt 
 desirous to see it, we got out and walked around for some 
 time. It is entered by several gates, at each of which 
 guards are placed, and these gates must all be closed at such 
 a time in the evening, (I think it is eight o'clock,) so that 
 no one can pass in or out after that hour. The streets are 
 narrow and extremely dirty. I saw no difference in the 
 countenances of the persons 1 met from the Italians in gen- 
 eral. We entered the synagogue, a plain, unpretending 
 building, where two or three men were sitting with their hats 
 on, and singing in Hebrew some of the Psalms of David. 
 They sang in turn, and after one had finished his part, he 
 would walk about and talk and look at us till his turn came 
 again. They seemed very polite, and would have been 
 sociable, if we could have understood a word they said, or 
 spoken to them in return. Though their Sunday, I saw 
 nothing to indicate the day ; in the streets every body was 
 busy and noisy, though I think some shops were shut. 
 
 After dinner we rode out to the Villa Borghese, a most 
 charming ride. About the house itself there is nothing very 
 beautiful, but the grounds are laid out in exquisite taste. 
 Here was an artificial lake surrounded by weeping willows, 
 and there a grove of trees so dense that no light seemed to 
 penetrate it, and farther on, an open glade, in the centre of 
 
LETTERS. 103 
 
 which a fountain was sending forth its lulling sound. Statues 
 were interspersed here and there. The road wound around, 
 shaded with fine trees ; the grounds were alive with car- 
 riages, which with their liveried servants swept by in grand 
 style. We met several cardinals dressed in their scarlet 
 robes of office, their attendants in scarlet livery. We saw a 
 prelate who had left his carriage and was strutting about 
 with his arms behind him ; he looked queerly enough in his 
 short breeches and purple silk stockings, and having a scarf 
 of black silk falling in plaits from his shoulders. This is 
 the dress of the order. They are of a rank between priests 
 and cardinals. 
 
 We returned to our hotel by the ride on the Pincian hill. 
 Every body rides out here towards evening. We are then 
 just through dinner and tired with the labors of the day, so 
 that we find a ride quite refreshing. In passing carriages 
 here, each one takes the left side, instead of the right as 
 with us. 
 
 Sunday evening. 
 This has been the most quiet Sunday we have had since 
 we came on shore. We attended service this morning in a 
 hall in a large house just beyond the walls of the city. 
 Doubtless his '* Holiness the Pope " thinks that this city, 
 the seat of the holy Catholic faith, would be contaminated 
 by allowing Protestant worship within its precincts, and it 
 was only after repeated application through the British am- 
 bassador, that the privilege of having service, even without 
 the walls, was granted. We enjoyed the services much. 
 The hall was fitted up in the plainest manner with common 
 chairs and a carpet, but we felt how much better was the 
 pure devotion of the soul in such a place, than heartless 
 ceremonies in a church adorned with all the splendor that 
 ancient and modern times can produce. We heard a very 
 good sermon from an English clergyman, at present residing 
 in Rome. Both here and in Naples we were obliged to pay 
 
104 LETTERS. 
 
 for our seats. No one is allowed to go in without a ticket. 
 At first this seemed singular to us, that strangers should thus 
 have to contribute towards the maintenance of public wor- 
 ship. But on farther thought it appears quite right; for 
 it is entirely dependent for support on foreigners, there 
 being no regularly endowed church. 
 
 In going to church we were much struck with the stillness 
 of the streets, so different from what we have lately been 
 accustomed to see. The shops were all closed, save those 
 where provisions are kept ; no others are allowed to be open 
 except at noon and after sunset. 
 
 After dinner we attended vespers at St. Peter's, grand 
 and majestic St. Peter's. How were we struck with awe as 
 we gazed upon the vast pile in which were gathered the 
 wealth of ages, and the greatest treasures art has ever pro- 
 duced. But as we did not take a thorough survey of this 
 magnificent church, I shall not attempt to give you any de- 
 scription of it now, but reserve that for a time when we are 
 better acquainted with the subject. 
 
 We heard some good singing, though it was nothing to be 
 compared with that we heard last Sunday at Naples. My 
 attention was attracted by seeing multitudes wending their 
 way to one particular part of the church. I followed too, 
 and what do you think was the charm that drew them there ? 
 It was a bronze statue of St. Peter, and it was to kiss the 
 foot of this, that the crowds were hurrying thither. Men, 
 women and children united in this act of homage, and even 
 little children, too small to reach it, were lifted up in their 
 parents' arms, and taught to kiss the hallowed foot. Some, 
 as they approached, laid their foreheads upon it breathing 
 out a low prayer at the same time. So much has this foot 
 been kissed that it is worn quite smooth and thin, and some 
 even say that it is but a little time since a new foot was 
 added. 
 
 I saw at the tomb of St. Peter a cardinal at his devotions. 
 His clothes were corded with red ; he had on a red cap, and 
 
LETTERS. 105 
 
 red silk stockings buckled up over his knees. Two servants 
 in livery followed, one bearing a crimson cushion, which he 
 placed wherever his master wished to kneel. When I after- 
 wards saw him roll away from the church in his carriage 
 decked with crimson and gold, I thought how unlike his 
 meek and lowly Master he was. Oh ! the pride of the hu- 
 man heart ! Because a man is high in the church, he must 
 use all the pomp and parade of an earthly monarch. 
 
 But now is it not quite time for me to close this long let- 
 ter ? So good bye. 
 
 Rome, Tuesday. 
 My dearest F. : 
 
 Still are we engaged in sight-seeing, so that I have no 
 time to write except at night, and at broken intervals through 
 the day, when we are kept waiting a few minutes for our 
 breakfast and dinner, or for the carriage to come for us. 
 We are never out late in the evening, as the night air is con- 
 sidered exceedingly unhealthy. The evenings and nights 
 are very cool, even after a day of intense heat ; so we keep 
 pretty closely in the house after dark, and thus I secure my 
 evenings for writing. 
 
 However interested one may be in seeing strange and 
 wondrous things, yet all must acknowledge that sight-see- 
 ing is fatiguing business, and when the weather is as sultry 
 as it is here now, it is doubly oppressive. However I anti- 
 cipated all this when I left the quiet of my home, and I know 
 that all my fatigue will be forgotten when T return there, and 
 can tell the loved ones of all that I have seen and heard in 
 "the old world." My home; how it rises up before me!, 
 Shall I ever see my home again ? God grant that I may ! 
 
 Yesterday morning we visited the ruins of " the Palace of 
 the Caesars," which was begun in the time of Augustus. 
 
106 LETTERS. 
 
 These are very extensive, and show how great were the 
 wealth and splendor of the ancient Romans. The walls in 
 many places are in an excellent state of preservation, and 
 serve to show the size of the palace in its earlier days. 
 
 Then we went to the Baths of Caracalla, which is an enor- 
 mous building, the outer walls of which alone remain. In 
 the vi^alls of the rooms used for the vapor bath, the holes are 
 yet remaining through which the steam formerly came. The 
 water was conducted into the building by aqueducts, but 
 long, rank grass now covers the enclosure. There were 
 formerly sixteen hundred bathing places ; the floors were 
 paved with mosaics, the walls adorned with pillars and stat- 
 ues, but these have all been removed to the Museum. 
 
 We next visited an ancient tomb which has been discov- 
 ered only about seven months. The outer walls are modern, 
 and are covered with various inscriptions, figures and frag- 
 ments of figures found around the tomb. We descended to 
 the interior by a flight of steps, and found ourselves in a 
 square room, the walls of which were full of small niches, in 
 which were the urns, containing the ashes of the dead. 
 There were nine rows of these niches, and in the centre of 
 the room was a solid square, in the sides of which were other 
 niches, so that there were about five hundred in all. lu 
 most of these were two urns, so that one thousand persons 
 might be buried in this place, which if their bodies were 
 entombed as in these days, would scarcely accommodate 
 more than a hundredth part of that number. The urns were 
 all of common materials, and in the most of them were yet 
 remaining ashes and pieces of bones. It seems that at this 
 time it was the universal practice to burn the dead, and to 
 gather up and preserve the remains. 
 
 We went to the Church of St. Sebastiano, under which are 
 the ancient catacombs. We went down by the light of can- 
 dles, each of us carrying a large wax candle in our hands. 
 What a damp, dismal looking place it was ! Passages cut 
 out of the rock led hither and thither in every direction, 
 
LETTERS. 1 07 
 
 these catacombs extending several miles. These passages 
 were originally made by the Romans, for the purpose of ob- 
 taining the veins of sand which were found in this tufo, or 
 species of soft rock. In these dark and subterranean abodes 
 the early Christians hid themselves when the fires of perse- 
 cution waxed hot under the different emperors. Here their 
 dead were buried, and here they worshipped the living God 
 in secrecy and safety. The graves of their loved ones were 
 their altars, the low arched passages their temple, and their 
 music was the soft, low song of praise coming from the lips 
 of those, who braved danger and even death for their Mas- 
 ter's sake. 
 
 There are places cut in the rocks for the bodies of the 
 dead, as after the Christian era it v/as more customary to 
 bury than to burn. Some of these places are covered by 
 slabs of marble, others are left entirely open. 
 
 Here saints in later times have come to worship. Two 
 or three different spots were pointed out to us by the priest 
 who acted as our guide, where crosses had been erected, a 
 tomb used as an altar, a narrow recess as a chapel, and there 
 prayers had been offered and penance performed. 
 
 It is said that a professor and forty students were once lost 
 in these winding passages, and no remains of them ever dis- 
 covered. They were in search of anatomical specimens. 
 The air is close and damp here, so we all felt quite relieved 
 when once more in the upper regions. 
 
 In returning we passed by the Circus of Romulus, a large 
 enclosure, the walls of which still remain. Here the horse 
 and chariot races formerly took place. There are ruins of 
 rooms and towers, probably those appropriated to the empe- 
 rors and their guards. 
 
 We once more rode without the walls and visited the 
 Church of St. John. We first went to the Baptistery of Con- 
 stantine, a circular building, the dome of which is supported 
 by beautiful pillars of porphyry. Two or three steps lead 
 down to the font which is cf basalt, in shape of a bathing 
 
108 LETTERS. 
 
 ing tub, and surmounted by an urn of bronze. The inside 
 of the dome is lined with paintings, illustrating the history 
 of St. John, while around the walls are larger pictures, rep- 
 resenting the vision of the cross by Constantine, his battle 
 with Maxentius, and his baptism. Out of the baptistery is a 
 little chapel, over the threshold of which, I, being a female, 
 was not permitted to pass ; nobody seemed to know why, 
 probably for the same wise reason I was kept out of one at 
 Genoa. I would have entered, but John seemed in great 
 consternation about it, saying that if I did I should be ex- 
 communicated by the Pope, but I told him he had no power 
 over me and that I defied his excommunication. He then 
 began to tell a number of direful stories about persons that 
 had been excommunicated, so that " silenced but not con- 
 vinced," I desisted. This little chapel was guarded by large 
 doors of brass, which when swung back and forth, made a 
 noise resembling the sound of an organ, particularly the 
 trumpet tones. 
 
 The Church of St. John is vastly inferior to that of St, 
 Paul. The pillars are plastered, but as they are hung with 
 velvet and their bases are marble, the defect is not observed. 
 In niches in one part of the church are statues of the twelve 
 apostles, which are admirably done. The high altar is 
 adorned with four large pillars of brass gilded over, while on 
 the altar is a beautiful little tabernacle formed of rare mar- 
 bles, and adorned with pillars of porphyry, and studded with 
 precious stones. 
 
 In a little chapel in this church is the very table where our 
 Lord ate the last supper with his twelve disciples. It is of 
 cedar, about four feet square, and is kept enclosed in a glass 
 case. How this table was ever found and brought here from 
 Judea is a question not easily answered. One thing struck 
 us all on seeing it, namely, in all the paintings of " the Last 
 Supper" the table is always represented as long and narrow, 
 while this is quite square. Now it seems strange that since 
 this table has been here so long, and there have been so 
 
LETTERS. 109 
 
 many painters in Italy, that its shape has never been trans- 
 ferred to canvass. However, painters are licensed, and so 
 for that matter are the priests in this country, and I believe 
 they tell some huge stories sometimes, though perhaps they 
 believe them. 
 
 Opposite to this church is a chapel containing " the holy 
 staircase," said to have been the very steps, down which 
 Christ went, when going to the judgment hall in the palace 
 of Pontius Pilate, and brought here from Jerusalem. These 
 steps are of white marble, and are twenty-five in number, 
 and no one is allowed to go up or down, except on his knees, 
 and so much has this been done, that they have become 
 quite worn, and are now covered with wood. We saw one 
 priest ascending on his knees ; he stopped at each step and 
 muttered a prayer. At the head of this staircase are two of 
 the very nails with which Christ was fastened to the cross, 
 but the sacred relics are hidden from the public eye. 
 
 In the square, front of the church, is an obelisk, covered 
 with hieroglyphics. It is the largest one in Rome, and was 
 brought from the Temple of the Sun in Thebes by one of the 
 sons of Constantine. 
 
 If you are not quite tired of churches, come with me to 
 one other, and then I will relieve you from accounts of any 
 more, at least for a day or two. This is the Church of Santa 
 Maria Maggiore. The nave is separated from the other part 
 of the church by thirty-six pillars of white marble. There 
 are some beautiful paintings here, but I was really too tired 
 to notice them much.. T call your attention to this church 
 more particularly to tell you a little anecdote concerning its 
 origin, and that you may see on what slight pretexts churches 
 are here built. Two priests in one night dreamed the same 
 dream, namely, that in a particular place the Virgin appeared 
 to them, and that at the time of her appearance snow fell. 
 The next morning, they both proceeded to the spot desicr- 
 nated in the dream, and there surely was snow most plainly 
 to be seen, which from its coming in the summer was at 
 10 
 
110 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 once pronounced a miracle. The Pope therefore instantly 
 proclaimed it holy ground, he and all the cardinals going 
 around it in solemn procession, and on this very spot a 
 church was soon after erected, which for some time was 
 called " St. Mary of the Snow." 
 
 And now let me take you back once more to the ruins. 
 Let us stop and visit the Colosseum, the most magnificent of 
 all the ruins of ancient Rome. It is an immense edifice of 
 oval form, and is five stories high ; the lower story however 
 is partly sunk in the ground. The arena, so called from the 
 sand scattered on the enclosure, to absorb the blood shed 
 there so freely, is in the centre and is also of an oval form, 
 being two hundred and eighty-five feet by one hundred and 
 eighty-two feet. Around this runs a wall separating it from 
 the seats of the spectators. In this wall were ^oors barred 
 with iron leading to the dens of the different wild beasts, 
 and through which they passed into the arena. The seats 
 of the spectators rose one above another in widening circles, 
 till they reached the top. The lower seats were occupied by 
 the emperors and their households, the priests and the officers 
 of the city, and the others in succession by the diflerent 
 ranks of the people. Three rows of arched corridors ran 
 round on the outside, and every third arch had a staircase, 
 each distinct class of the inhabitants having a separate en- 
 trance. There was no roof, an awning being placed over 
 the top in unpleasant weather. 
 
 It was built by Vespasian and Titus and was finished about 
 the year 80 of the Christian era. The games at the dedica- 
 tion of this amphitheatre lasted one hundred days, when it 
 is said that five thousand wild beasts and several thousand 
 gladiators were slain. In after times many a Christian was 
 thrown into that arena to meet death from the wild beasts, 
 their only crime being that they served a God superior to 
 any the Romans knew and worshipped. Multitudes of people 
 crowded this edifice to witness these barbarous sports ; in 
 fact it is said that one hundred and twenty thousand persons 
 
LETTERS. Ill 
 
 could there be accommodated with seats. How strange it is 
 that people showing the marks of civilization and refinement 
 of the ancient Romans, should have delighted in such shows, 
 and yet it is a well authenticated fact that all classes from 
 the highest to the lowest, yea and even soft and delicate wo- 
 men, nursed in luxury and splendor, were constant attend- 
 ants at such places. 
 
 Many of the arches of this stupendous edifice are now 
 broken down, and the stones have been used in building up 
 the present city ; nay it is said that more than half the pa- 
 laces in modern Rome have been built from the ruins of the 
 Colosseum. Other arches remain entire, now overgrown 
 with moss and ivy. From crevices in the stone peep out 
 little wild flowers, and shrubs and even trees spring from 
 different parts of the ruins. Several of the passages from the 
 arena are now fitted up as chapels, and even in the centre of 
 the very arena itself, where once blood was poured out like 
 water, are an altar and a crucifix. 
 
 We have spent this day in visiting the Vatican. A week 
 might be well spent there, and even then all the curiosities 
 could not be seen. Almost every room has its own guide, 
 and he hurries you so from one object to another, that almost 
 before you know it you are out of one room and in another. 
 You approach the rooms open to the public, by a magnifi- 
 cent marble staircase. At each landing there is a fountain, 
 the water running into a marble basin. The collection in 
 the Vatican, for real beauty, far surpasses that in the Muse- 
 um in Naples. There are not, to be sure, here as there, the 
 rich mosaic floors and tables, the gems and precious stones, 
 the great variety of domestic utensils and furniture, which 
 borrow their chief interest from the fact of having been 
 brought from Pompeii, but the statuary here is much more 
 splendid, and in a better state of preservation. I cannot 
 tell you the half of what I saw. I might spend an hour just 
 in giving you the names, and even then the greatest part 
 would be left unsaid. 
 
112 LETTERS. 
 
 We first went into a room where several were at work on 
 mosaics. This kind of painting is done by putting together 
 small pieces of a kind of glass, called composition. These 
 are of all colors and shades, and when properly arranged 
 form a splendid picture, upon which time has but little effect. 
 The workman has his piece before him on an easel ; he has 
 on one side his pattern, and on the other his stones, and a 
 little machine for grinding them and filing them to the 
 necessary shape. This is slow work, a common-sized por- 
 trait occupying four or five months. In another room they 
 were polishing the pictures, and this occupies about another 
 month. In a long room, arranged in cases, are more than 
 ten thousand different pieces of these stones. In other cases 
 is a small piece of each color, each piece having on it the 
 number of the case in which are the large pieces of the 
 same color, so that the workman has only to find out what 
 color he wants, then go to the case specified on the number, 
 and so procure with ease whatever he needs. 
 
 We then went into the galleries filled with sculpture, 
 where are statues of nearly all the Roman emperors, of gods 
 and goddesses, of poets and orators, all most perfect speci- 
 mens of that most beautiful art, sculpture. Then there were 
 marble sarcophagi, (I was on the point of saying without 
 number,) covered with bas-reliefs, baths, vases, basins of 
 porphyry and polished granite, pillars of giallo antico and 
 precious marbles, in short every thing that is rich and beau- 
 tiful. Here too was something I have never before seen, 
 animals sculptured in marble, horses, bulls, lions, crocodiles, 
 eagles, cows and goats, nor must I forget a litter of pigs and 
 two or three turtles of black marble. In a sarcophagus of 
 porphyry we saw a mummy, in a good state of preservation. 
 In other rooms were Etruscan vases, jewels, rings, bracelets, 
 &>c., very similar to those we saw in Naples. But the gem 
 of the whole collection is the celebrated group of the Lao- 
 coon. This represents a father and two sons encircled by a 
 serpent. The expression of their faces is really agonizing, 
 
LETTERS. 113 
 
 and that of the father seems to haunt me even now, so full 
 of woe, so full of pain is it. The serpent's fangs are thrust 
 into his side. His mouth is open as though a scream of 
 anguish was just issuing from it. Well may this group be 
 called inimitable. 
 
 Through the hall of paintings we were so hurried, that 
 we had time merely to glance at this magnificent collection, 
 where are some of the finest specimens of Raphael's genius. 
 The walls of several of the rooms were designed by him, and 
 painted after his death by his pupils. One of his paintings 
 is done on a window, and represents an angel appearing to 
 St. Peter in prison, and so natural is it, that I could hardly 
 persuade myself that I did not actually see a barred window, 
 with the prison walls, and the room illuminated by the pres- 
 ence of the angel. 
 
 In the Library in the Vatican is one of the finest collections 
 of books in the world, consisting of eighty thousand printed, 
 and twenty-five thousand manuscript volumes. The walls of 
 the rooms are covered with the most beautiful fresco paint- 
 ings, but as I have already said so much about pictures, I 
 will pass over these in silence. Among the manuscripts we 
 saw a large illuminated Bible, written in Latin, a work of 
 Virgil, a book on natural history, illustrated by paintings by 
 Raphael, and some letters from Henry VIH. to Anne Bc- 
 leyn, and her answers to them, which letters were mighty 
 loving. 
 
 We walked for awhile in the garden belonging to the pal- 
 ace, where we saw one beautiful work of art, the pedestal of 
 some ancient pillar (I believe of Antoninus Pius,) sculptured 
 in bas-relief 
 
 In the garden were several fountains. One was a ship in 
 a large basin of water, and from all parts of the ship water 
 poured out in little jets, forming a beautiful as well as a 
 novel fountain. While looking at this we were told to hurry, 
 and while we ran hither and thither, without knowing what 
 we were running for, little springs of water darted up out of 
 10* 
 
114 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 the ground. This, we were told, is quite a favorite amuse- 
 ment with the Pope. When he has visitors, he takes them 
 into the garden, and while they are busily looking at the 
 little ship, he gives the signal, and these little fountains 
 spring up out of the earth, and give them a gentle ducking, 
 which causes the " holy father" to laugh heartily, greatly to 
 the horror of Mr. T., who was scandalized to think the Pope 
 could laugh. 
 
 On coming to our room, quite tired with our days' excur- 
 sion, how were we cheered by finding a letter from you. 
 None but those who have travelled in foreign lands, know 
 the joy caused by news from loved ones left behind. And 
 so with a happy heart, I bid you good night. 
 
 Rome, Wednesday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Well, whom do you think we have seen to-day? No less 
 a personage than Pope Gregory XVI. Having heard that 
 high mass was to be performed to-day in the Church of San 
 Filippo, at which the Pope and many of the cardinals would 
 officiate, we took the precaution of engaging seats before- 
 hand, and by paying a small sum to one of the attendant 
 priests, he promised us places where we could see all the cere- 
 monies. Accordingly we went soon after breakfast, that we 
 might be in season. The gentlemen obtained good places 
 down stairs, while I was conducted up a narrow staircase to 
 a little gallery, directly in front of the high altar. I did not 
 have a front seat, but by standing up in a chair, I found I 
 could look all over the church. No ladies are allowed to go 
 into any church where the Pope is present, without a veil, 
 so I bought me a thin lace one as I went to church. This 
 I fixed over my bonnet in such a manner as to leave me a 
 little loop-hole through which I could look, and in fact no 
 
LETTERS. 115 
 
 sooner did the services begin, than it dropped off, and I took 
 no pains to replace it, as I did not imagine my being veiled 
 or not could produce any effect upon the Pope. After wait- 
 ing a long time, I saw preparations for the commencement 
 of the service. As I rose in my chair, a lady near me touched 
 me, and said a few words in Italian. Though I partially 
 comprehended what she said, I could not muster words 
 enough to answer her. Seeing me hesitate, she said, " Speak 
 English?" On my saying "yes," she turned and spoke in 
 Italian to another lady, who instantly came to me and began 
 talking with me in English. She asked me if I had never 
 seen the Pope, and if I was '* a Catholic," and on hearing 
 my answer, she went and spoke to the man who kept the 
 door of the gallery, upon which he came and told the ladies 
 in front that I was a stranger, and that they must make room 
 for me, which they cheerfully did, and thus I had a fine op- 
 portunity to view all the ceremonies. She stood beside me 
 all the time, and told me who the different individuals were. 
 First came in about twenty cardinals, having on scarlet silk 
 robes ; each had a priest behind him, bearing his train, 
 which was several yards long. They proceeded to a chapel 
 on one side of the high altar, where they arranged them- 
 selves in two rows. Then came the Pope, dressed in a robe 
 of white satin spotted with gold. He was borne into the 
 church in a splendid chair, covered with crimson velvet, on 
 the shoulders of twelve men, dressed entirely in red. On 
 either side of him was a man bearing a huge fan of ostrich 
 feathers to keep the flies off " his Holiness' " nose, which, by 
 the way, is a large one. He was set down before the chapel, 
 into which he entered, and walking up between the cardi- 
 nals, he knelt at the altar, they throwing themselves on their 
 knees at the same time. Then they came out of the chapel, 
 the Pope having four attendants to hold up his train, and 
 knelt before the high altar. The Pope then seated himself 
 in a chair covered v/ith white satin, under a crimson canopy, 
 and the cardinals sat on either side below him. A tempo- 
 
lib LETTERS. 
 
 rary altar, covered with white satin, was placed at the foot 
 of the steps of the high altar, with a kneeling cushion of 
 the same for the Pope, and here he knelt at those parts of 
 the services that required kneeling. After he was seated, the 
 cardinals went up, one by one, their long trains sweeping 
 the floor. They knelt before him, kissed his hand, bowed 
 low, and then swept off again, their attendants catching up 
 their trains with a great deal of dexterity, as they descended 
 the steps. Then followed the mass, in which there was as 
 usucd a great deal of bowing and kneeling, each one not 
 only kneeling in passing the altar, but also in going by the 
 Pope. 
 
 Two or three times a book was carried to him by one of 
 the officiating priests who knelt as he approached, and re- 
 mained kneeling all the time he held the book, while the 
 Pope read a few sentences in a weak tone of voice. Two 
 attendants constantly stood beside him, one handed his 
 pocket-handkerchief whenever he needed it, and raised the 
 cap from his head whenever it was necessary for him to be 
 uncovered ; the other kept opening his robe every time any 
 one approached, so that the cross on his shoes were seen. I 
 saw but one man kiss this cross, and he seemed one of the 
 lower order of priests. 
 
 The martial music, the pomp and parade, the soldiers 
 scattered all over the church, made it seem more like a mil- 
 itary or theatrical display than a religious ceremony. People 
 were constantly coming in, gazing round, and then going 
 out again, showing no appearance of devotion. At the con- 
 clusion of the ceremonies, the Pope stood up and blessed the 
 people, who all threw themselves on their knees. After 
 silently kneeling a few moments, the cardinals passed out, 
 and then followed the Pope in his chair, attended by his 
 Swiss guard. I never saw any thing so fantastic as their 
 uniform. They wear a kind of frock reaching to the knees, 
 composed of alternate stripes of red, blue and yellow, low 
 hats with a large red feather, double ruffles round the neck, 
 
LETTERS. 117 
 
 such as were worn in diieen Elizabeth's time, a broad yel- 
 low shoulder-belt, in which is stuck a small sword, and they 
 carry in their hands a long wooden spear tipped with iron, 
 just below the top of which is an axe in the form of a cres- 
 cent. 
 
 We came out of the church and stood in the street, to see 
 the procession pass by. The ground was covered with a 
 species of yellow sand, all the way from the church to the 
 Vatican. This is always strewn in the streets through which 
 the Pope passes when he attends any particular church. The 
 windows of the houses round the Church of San Filippo 
 were hung with rich damask. The bells of the church rang 
 and the drums beat, while the procession was passing. First 
 came the "noble guard" on horseback. This is composed 
 of the sons of the nobility and of the first families in Rome. 
 They always precede the Pope when he rides out, to see that 
 there are no obstructions in the way. Then followed a priest 
 bearing the cross, on a snow white mule covered with black 
 trappings. Then came the Pope's carriage, surrounded by 
 the Swiss guard on foot. This was drawn by six black 
 horses, all their harnessing being covered with figured crim- 
 son velvet. They were not driven, but ridden by three pos- 
 tillions dressed in crimson livery. The carriage was all 
 crimson and gold, large plates of glass set in gilt frames 
 forming the doors and windows. It was lined with crimson 
 velvet. On the back seat sat " the holy father," a mild, 
 pleasant looking old man, who bowed with much affability 
 as he passed along, all the people in the streets kneeling. 
 Then followed a similar carriage, in which was the major- 
 domo or head of his household. Then came the long line 
 of cardinals, princes, prelates and senators, in splendid car- 
 riages, each having four or six attendants. It was certainly 
 the grandest sight I ever saw, and it was well worth standing 
 out in the hot sun a whole hour. 
 
 Do not think we came home even after so long a cere- 
 mony. No ! there are too many things yet to be seen in 
 
IIS LETTERS. 
 
 Rome for that, so we stopped at the Pope's Palace on the 
 Quirinal Hill, though he seldom stays here, choosing to re- 
 side at the Vatican the most of the time. At present it is 
 occupied by the Swiss guard and some attendants. It is an 
 immense building, though we were shown only the suite of 
 rooms appertaining to the Pope. They were furnished with 
 a plainness that surprised me, though two or three of the 
 rooms had a simple elegance about them. Some had walls 
 hung, and furniture covered with crimson velvet; some had 
 marble floors, others stone, and two or three, polished oak. 
 The Pope's bed-chamber was lined with crimson, and the 
 covering of the bed was silk of the same color. The bed 
 was of straw, as being a monk, his profession does not allow 
 him to sleep on any thing else. At each end of his bed was 
 a bust, one of Christ, the other of the Virgin Mary, both by 
 Canova. 
 
 The collection of paintings, though not large, is about the 
 finest of any I have yet seen. Here were Raphael's first 
 sketch of the Transfiguration, several pieces by the Caracci, 
 a splendid Madonna and infant Jesus by Rubens, and many 
 others by the first masters. In the small private chapel of 
 the Pope was an Annunciation by Guido, said to be one of 
 the best pictures in Rome. The expression of meekness, 
 yet of holy joy on the Virgin's face, as the angel announces 
 to her, that she shall be the mother of the Saviour, is most 
 beautiful. 
 
 But how surprised were we to enter a room, lined with 
 paintings and adorned with a large crucifix, to find it was 
 the billiard room of the Pope ! '' What ! " I said, " the ' holy 
 father,' the head of the church, the representative of Christ, 
 the successor of St. Peter, a monk of the strict order of St. 
 Gregory, amuss himself with playing billiards ! " Really I 
 was horror-stricken, and told John he ought to be excom- 
 municated. 
 
 In this palace is the Pauline Chapel, famous as being the 
 place where the cardinals meet in conclave to choose a Pope 
 
LETTERS. 119 
 
 when there is a vacancy in the office. Here they are shut 
 up, and allowed to have no intercourse with any one till the 
 election is made. Once they were secluded here three 
 months before a Pope was chosen. A little stove is behind 
 the altar, in which the votes, when not sufficient for an elec- 
 tion, are burnt ; the smoke seen warns the people that no 
 choice is made. If some time elapses, and no smoke is seen, 
 the people gather around the palace in crowds, to know who 
 the Pope is to be. As soon as it is decided, one of the 
 cardinals goes out on the balcony and announces the name 
 of the new Pope. The signal is then given to the Castle S't. 
 Angelo, and salutes are fired, or as John expressed it, " they 
 shoot the guns," and all the bells of the churches are rung. 
 The new Pope is seated in the chair ; the cardinals kiss his 
 foot, and then lead him to the balcony, where he blesses the 
 people. The Emperor of Austria and the Kings of France 
 and Spain have a right to veto the choice. So when a Pope 
 is chosen, word is sent to the ambassadors from those courts, 
 and they, being beforehand instructed, say whether or not 
 such a choice will be sanctioned. Thus there was once a 
 cardinal elected to the popedom. He had been much in 
 Spain, and had there done many cruel acts, so when he was 
 chosen Pope, the Spanish ambassador said his king would 
 not allov/ the election, and he was excluded. The Cardinal 
 Albano was once chosen, but the Emperor of Austria did 
 not approve the choice, and he too was set aside. I derived 
 this information concerning the election of a Pope from 
 John, who seems well versed in civil and ecclesiastical his- 
 tory, but I have no books by me, to which I can refer, so I 
 cannot tell if any part of the statement is untrue. 
 
 With whom do you think we had the pleasure of dining 
 to-day ? For fear you may be racking your brain to think of 
 some distinguished person we would be likely to meet, I 
 hasten to relieve your anxiety, and tell you it was a " colored 
 gentleman." Not more than eight or ten dine with us; our 
 own party of Americans, two or three English gentlemen, a 
 
12# LETTERS. 
 
 young and intelligent Italian priest, and a consul from 
 Greece, who, with his wife and son, are on their way to Lon- 
 don. To-day, just as I took my place at table, the Greek 
 came in, followed by his wife and son and this black man. 
 As I looked up I thought he was a servant, and wondered 
 that at a table where we had such excellent attendance, a 
 private waiter should be needed ; but what was my surprise 
 to see the Greek give him a seat between himself and his 
 son ! I believe I started. I glanced towards the English 
 gentlemen, and as they did not seem to notice it at all, I 
 thought, why should 1 ? So I resolved to eat my dinner in 
 peace, though I confess I could not help occasionally glanc- 
 ing at this descendant of Ham, who, by the way, sat directly 
 opposite me. He conversed fluently with his party in French, 
 spoke to the waiters in Italian, and I found out, was ac- 
 quainted with English too, for on a discussion arising be- 
 tween one of our party and an English gentleman in relation 
 to a celebrated picture, I ventured to dissent from him, and 
 to say that it was in a different palace from what he main- 
 tained it to be, when my ''opposite neighbor" bov»ing very 
 politely to me said, " Madame is right." I saw nothing in 
 his manners but what were perfectly as they should be, so- 
 ciable without presumption, polite, but without affectation. 
 
 We have been much amused with two of our company at 
 table, both Englishmen. One has lately been to the East, 
 at least as far as Alexandria, and in discoursing to his com- 
 panion of the discomforts attending such a journey, said, " if 
 ever I go to the East again, I think it will be in my own 
 yacht." The expression and tone with which he said this 
 were perfectly inimitable ; I can give you no idea of them 
 on paper. 
 
 Our ride this evening was to the Villa Pamphylia. We 
 spent an hour in walking round the grounds, which are 
 beautifully laid out. The trees are kept trimmed in the 
 most regular manner, so as to form a complete hedge. The 
 walks are broad and well shaded, and there is such a variety 
 
LETTERS. 121 
 
 of scenery as to render it charming. At one moment we 
 were in an open glade, at another in a thick wood ; now all 
 was rustic and wild, then every thing was cultivated and ar- 
 tificial. All around were fountains of various forms and 
 designs. One was in the centre of a lake fed by an artificial 
 river. We passed under the river through a perfect little 
 tunnel. Altogether I think this is the most charming spot 
 we have yet seen, though I suppose you will begin to think 
 that I say this of every place ; but please remember that I 
 have never before had an opportunity to visit countries, 
 where so much wealth and taste are expended, both on pub- 
 lic and private buildings. 
 
 But ''hark! the midnight bell is pealing!" and that 
 warns me to stop ; so adieu. As ever, yours. 
 
 Rome, Friday evening. 
 My dear : 
 
 And now for St. Peter's. Do not think because I have 
 spoken but little of this church, that we have been so many 
 days in Rome without going but once to see this wonder of 
 the world. We have generally gone in once a day, and 
 spent a little time in gazing upon the masterpieces of art 
 there collected, but yesterday we devoted several hours to it, 
 and even then saw but a small part of it, and I doubt not if 
 we should go every day for several weeks that we should find 
 something new each time. 
 
 In going to St. Peter's from our hotel, we crossed the 
 " yellow Tiber," by the bridge of St. Angelo, at the end of 
 which stands the Mausoleum of Adrian, now converted into 
 a fort, and called *' Castle St. Angelo," from a fio-ure of the 
 archangel Michael standing on its summit. It is an im- 
 mense circular building, and was formerly surrounded by a 
 portico supported by one hundred pillars, which are now a 
 11 
 
122 LETTERS. 
 
 part of the Borghese palace. One would scarcely imagine 
 in looking at this solid edifice, that it was built for a tomb. 
 
 The approach to St. Peter's is magnificent. It stands on 
 a gentle eminence, having in front an open space called here 
 " a piazza," in the centre of which is an Egyptian obelisk, 
 one hundred and twenty feet high. This formerly stood in 
 the Circus of Nero, but under Pope Sextus V. was removed 
 hither. By great labor and much ingenuity this pillar was 
 placed on the pedestal on which it now stands, but after it 
 was almost raised to a perpendicular, it was found that it 
 would go no farther. Silence had been commanded in or- 
 der that the signals might be heard by the workmen, and 
 although crowds stood in the streets, not the softest whisper 
 was heard ; though consternation sat on every face, at this 
 apparent failure, no one dared give utterance to his thoughts, 
 when suddenly a sailor from among the crowd cried out, 
 " wet the ropes." Two soldiers instantly darted upon him, 
 and took him into custody, but not before his suggestion had 
 been acted upon, and to the great joy of the spectators the 
 pillar was fixed firm and fast. The sailor was released and 
 a reward given him. 
 
 On each side of the obelisk are two beautiful fountains, 
 whose incessant play of waters fills the air with their music. 
 Two magnificent colonnades begin at the front of this 
 piazza, and sweep around in a semicircle, till they are stop- 
 ped by the walls of the church. Three hundred and fifty 
 pillars support this colonnade, there being sufficient space 
 between two rows of the pillars, to admit of two carriages 
 passing each other. On the top of the colonnade are two 
 hundred statues. On the right hand of the church is the 
 immense palace called the Vatican. 
 
 But the church itself, how shall I attempt to give you an 
 idea of this the most magnificent church in the world ? for, 
 considering its vastness, its rich marbles, its noble statues 
 and beautiful paintings, the length of time consumed in 
 building it and the wealth expended on it, it may indeed be 
 
LETTERS. 123 
 
 called one of the wonders of the world. It presents a broad 
 majestic front, but has one striking defect, it is not high 
 enough for its breadth, so that the cupola (or rather cupolas 
 for, in addition to the large dome there are several small 
 ones) does not show to good advantage when near the church. 
 After ascending a few steps, we pushed aside a curtain and 
 stood at once within this vast pile. Our eyes roamed around, 
 and we stood as it were entranced. Our first impression in 
 relation to the size of the church was, that it had been over- 
 estimated ; so perfect are its proportions that you cannot re- 
 alize that it is more than six hundred feet long, and it was 
 not till I had repeatedly walked across it that these erro- 
 neous impressions were corrected. 
 
 So great was the number of objects that attracted our at- 
 tention that I scarcely know where to begin to describe them 
 to you. All the pictures in the church are mosaics, copies 
 of the works of the first masters, but as these are mostly 
 behind the altars, which are covered with candlesticks, vases 
 of flowers and trinkets, their beauties are partially obscured, 
 and I have therefore given but little attention to them, but 
 have spent the most of the time in gazing upon the sculpture 
 and statuary which are here found in perfection. How I 
 love to look upon these masterpieces, and see them in all 
 their matchless beauties. Strange art, that can make a 
 piece of marble thus bear the lineaments of the human face 
 and form, and express all the passions and aifections of the 
 immortal soul ! There is one monument, 'which I have 
 stopped to admire, every time I have been in the church. I 
 never tire of looking at it, but at each new survey discover 
 some new beauty. On the front is the inscription, which 
 tells that it was raised to commemorate the death of three 
 brothers. On each side of this is sculptured in bold relief, 
 an angel as large as life, holding an extinguished torch, and 
 weeping as over the fate of the loved and lost. They are so 
 chaste, so simple in their beauty, their faces are downcast 
 and so overwhelmed with sorrow, that one almost weeps in 
 
134 LETTERS. 
 
 looking at them. This was done by one of the finest sculp- 
 tors the world ever saw, Canova. 
 
 In one of the numerous little chapels in this church, is a 
 noble piece of work by the prince of sculptors, Michael An- 
 gelo, representing the Virgin Mary, holding in her arms the 
 Saviour, just taken from the cross. It is rather a singular 
 design, though perfectly executed. In the figure of " the 
 dead Christ," the limbs are stiffened, the hands and feet hang 
 down, and the whole bears all the appearance of death. But 
 the face of the stricken mother ! Oh, so fall of anguish is 
 it, that it seems a perfect fulfillment of that prophecy — " Yea 
 a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also." 
 
 The tomb of Clement XIII. is adorned by sculpture, by 
 Canova. On the top is a kneeling statue of that Pope ; be- 
 low are two figures, representing Charity and Religion, 
 guarded by two lions beautifully carved. 
 
 Another monument is that of Paul III., designed by Mi- 
 chael Angelo, and finished by one of his scholars. The 
 figures represent Justice as an old woman, and Prudence as 
 a young girl, which last was so preeminently beautiful, that 
 several fell in love with it, so that it was found necessary to 
 have it robed ; accordingly, a drapery of bronze is thrown 
 around it. 
 
 There are many other monuments adorned with sculpture, 
 but perhaps I have already said too much on this subject, so 
 I will forbear. 
 
 At the head of the nave is the tomb of St. Peter, support- 
 ed by large pillars of bronze, and surrounded by a balustrade 
 of marble. In front of this tomb more than one hundred 
 lamps are kept constantly burning. Behind this is the tri- 
 buna, the canopy of which is supported by four figures of 
 bronze representing the four canons of the church. Beneath 
 this canopy is the chair of St. Peter. When any Pope has 
 been in office twenty-four years, he is seated in this chair, 
 and canonized as a saint. I asked John if any one had ever 
 been raised to this dignity. He said no one but St. Peter 
 himself. 
 
LETTERS. 125 
 
 We will now, if you please, go up to the top of this church, 
 and you may be thankful that your part of the task can be 
 accomplished on paper, and not by the labor we were oblig- 
 ed to put forth. 
 
 From the lower part of the church to the roof, the ascent 
 is very easy. Instead of stairs, there is a paved way, which 
 winds around within the walls of the church, so that occa- 
 sionally donkeys are used for going up. It was not till we 
 walked over the roof of St. Peter's that we realized how im- 
 mense an edifice it was. It seemed like a little city. As I 
 told you before, besides the large dome there are two smaller 
 ones, and in addition to these, the ceilings of several of the 
 chapels rise up in little domes. Under the shelter of some 
 of these, and protected from the sun and rain by an awning, 
 live two or three families, the children of which seemed per- 
 fectly at home in their airy dwelling, and were running 
 around the domes with great glee. 
 
 Within the large dome are two galleries, from the lower 
 one of which, being nearly two hundred feet from the floor, 
 we looked down into the church. How insignificant the 
 large pillars looked, the monuments dwindled away, and the 
 people walking about seemed like pigmies. The walls of 
 this gallery are lined with mosaics. Here, as in the ruined 
 temple at Baioe, there was a perfect whispering gallery, the 
 lowest whisper being distinctly heard at opposite sides. 
 
 From the roof, the stairs begin, and here began the labor. 
 They were narrow, and in many places steep. However, we 
 took it as leisurely as we could, stopping at both of the gal- 
 leries within the dome. The upper one is two hundred and 
 forty feet above the floor. We were so high up then that 
 even with my glass I could see nothing distinctly. We did 
 not content ourselves, however, with getting so far, but actu- 
 ally climbed up within the very ball on top of the dome, four 
 hundred feet from the ground. This was the toughest part 
 of all, for we were obliged to climb up a perpendicular iron 
 ladder. Poor Mr. D., who is quite a large man, found it a 
 11* 
 
126 LETTERS. 
 
 tight squeeze, and after all this, what could we see ? Nothing 
 but the inside of a brass ball, which, though looking like a 
 mere speck from below, is in reality large enough to hold a 
 dozen men. The air was insufferably hot, and we were glad 
 to get out of so close a place. All that I had for my fatigue 
 was the consciousness that I had been where few ladies ever 
 venture. We then came down to the gallery on the outside 
 of the dome, where we had a grand view of the city and the 
 villas around. The whole city lay like a map at our very 
 feet, while the country, with its hills and green valleys, 
 stretched around like a garden. While gazing on this pano- 
 rama and enjoying the cool breeze, which was delightful 
 after the close, hot air within the ball, John espied the 
 Pope's carriage in the court of the Vatican, so down we 
 thouorht we must go. Not takinor into consideration the old 
 maxim, that " great bodies move slowly," and that some time 
 must elapse before so large a retinue as generally attends 
 distinguished personages could be got ready, we hurried 
 down as fast as our wearied limbs would permit us, till 
 heated and flushed, we arrived once more on the roof And 
 how many steps do you think we went up from the roof to 
 the ball ? Why, four hundred and twelve ! We stopped on 
 the roof to get the cool air, and then, seeing that the carriage 
 still remained before the door of the palace, we once more 
 took a leisurely survey of objects around. On one side of 
 the church we saw a large, gloomy looking building. I asked 
 John what it was. He lowered his voice and whispered, 
 ''the Inquisition." We asked if we could not enter it. He 
 said, " Gh yes ! very easily ; only say or do something against 
 the established religion, or the State government, and you 
 will find a speedy entrance." In vain I told him I did not 
 fear — that the power of my own country would protect me. 
 Enlightened as he is on many subjects, and superior in many 
 respects to the prejudices of his countrymen, he has a great 
 fear of the power of those high in authority. He assured us 
 that even now men sometimes disappeared, and no one knew 
 
LETTERS. 127 
 
 what had become of them, and that there was no doubt they 
 were there imprisoned, or even put to death. Only a few 
 months since, a courier suddenly disappeared, and nobody 
 knew or even dared to guess where he was, but as he was a 
 wicked man, he was probably seized and carried to the In- 
 quisition. 
 
 But now there was a movement in the palace court, that 
 warned us to depart, so we once more descended to the in- 
 side of the church, and went out and stood on the steps to 
 see the show. First came one of the noble guard, on horse- 
 back, then a carriage in which were some of the officers of 
 the household ; at a little distance behind followed more of 
 the noble guard, and then came the splendid carriage of the 
 Pope, the postillions and footmen being dressed in crimson 
 satin. The Pope had on a red dress, and a broad brimmed 
 red hat, turned up at the sides. As the carriage came near, 
 the people in the streets knelt, all but our party; we of 
 course stood. The time once was when even foreigners, and 
 Protestants too, were compelled to kneel when the emblems 
 of the Romish religion were carried through the streets; but 
 a more enlightened day has come, and that custom has passed 
 by. Perhaps you will think the Pope would not notice an 
 insignificant female like me ; but you are quite mistaken, for 
 he looked full at me, bowed low, and waved his hand, while 
 I made one of my best bows. He bowed also to the rest of 
 our party, who, with hats in hand, and wearing their most 
 pleasant looks and smiles, stood a little farther on. 
 
 Afterwards came still others of the guard, and several of 
 the cardinals in their carriages. And here just let me say, 
 that whenever a cardinal passes along the streets, the men 
 take off their hats, and the soldiers present arms. 
 
 We stopped to see a church, (I did not even ask the name 
 of it,) where there is a very miraculous virgin, that is, the 
 statue of one, round which lamps are constantly kept burn- 
 ing. Many individuals were kneeling before it, who all 
 kissed the foot of the statue before and after kneeling. It 
 
128 LETTERS. 
 
 was really astonishing to see the eagerness with which men 
 and women would press forward to kiss this piece of marble. 
 Young children too were brought in their parents' arms, and 
 made to put their little lips on this holy foot/ But most of 
 all was I suprised to see old, grey-headed, intelligent looking 
 men, go up and press their aged lips and wrinkled foreheads 
 upon the foot of this statue. Can it be that a man of any 
 mind can be a slave to such superstitions 1 Many, too, would 
 dip their fingers into the oil of one of the lamps that was 
 burning before this shrine, and then with their greasy fingers 
 make on their foreheads and necks the sign of the cross. 
 Had I not seen these things, and seen, too, the air of devo- 
 tion and seriousness with which they were done, I never 
 could have believed them. 
 
 But the statue in itself was a great curiosity ; its head, 
 neck, arms and hands were actually covered with jewels. 
 The most splendid necklace, sparkling with diamonds, hung 
 round its neck, bracelets in profusion graced the arms, while 
 the most dazzling diamond rings shone on every finger. 
 These were presents from those who believed this saint had 
 helped them, either by restoring them to health, or assisting 
 them out of some embarrassments. Two priests have the 
 care of this statue, and they actually receive twenty thousand 
 dollars' worth of candles every year as presents to this shrine. 
 Oh ! the mind sickens to see such degradation in this en- 
 lightened age ! When will this people throw off these shackles 
 imposed upon them by the priests ? Alas ! I fear not, this 
 many a year. 
 
 We rode this evening once more to the Pincian Hill, on 
 one part of which is a garden, tended by prisoners. They 
 are led here by soldiers in the morning, each one having a 
 chain passing from one leg to the other. In Naples we often 
 saw prisoners at work. There they were always chained, 
 two by two, from ancle to wrist. It always makes me shud- 
 der to see these condemned ones. 
 
 Last evening I had the curiosity (no strange thing for a 
 
LETTERS. 129 
 
 Yankee,) to count the number of priests we met in our ride, 
 and I counted no less than three hundred and twenty-two. 
 Had I counted those I met in the churches in the afternoon, 
 they must have numbered at least six hundred. 
 
 We met also several of the nobility of Rome, w'hom John 
 pointed out to us, among whom were the Prince of Corsini 
 and his mother, a Count, whose ancestors can be traced back 
 to the very earliest period of Roman history, and the Prince 
 Borghese and his little daughter, a handsome girl of seven 
 years. The Prince was in deep mourning, having lost his 
 wife last autumn. He married a daughter of the Eno-lishEarl 
 of Shrewsbury, and paid half a million dollars as her dowry. 
 Quite a price for a wife ! 
 
 This morning we did not go out very early, for to tell you 
 the truth, (though it is rather a delicate subject to write 
 about,) we have scarcely had a night's good sleep since we 
 have been in Rome, nay, for that matter, I may say, since we 
 have been in Italy, for that class of animals called by Lorenzo 
 Dow, " the hungry night-walkers," have so preyed upon our 
 flesh, as some nights utterly to deprive us of rest. And yet 
 our hotel is one of the best in the city. There must be 
 something in the climate, for I am told that private families, 
 and the very Pope himself, suffer from the same annoyance. 
 
 We visited this morning, the Church of Santa Maria degli 
 Angeli, built on the foundation of Dioclesian's baths. In 
 fact, one of the apartments forms the upper end of the cross. 
 The pavement is of marble, and contains a meridian, with 
 all the signs of the zodiac. The light comes through a small 
 opening on the walls, and in such a month the sun is in such 
 a sign. What a singular ornament for a church. There 
 are some most beautiful paintings; one by Pompeo Battini, 
 representing the fall of Simon Magus. It is one of the 
 grandest paintings in all Rome. The figures stand out in 
 such bold relief, that at a little distance they look like statues. 
 In this church lie Salvator Rosa and Carlo Maratti. Need 
 I say they have monuments in their works more lasting than 
 marble? 
 
130 LETTERS. 
 
 We then went to the gallery of the Palace Seiara, where 
 the collection though not large is very good. The first pic- 
 ture we saw was by Caravaggio,repre3enting three men playing 
 cards. One is young and innocent ; the second is older and 
 has a face full of wickedness, as he peeps over the shoulder 
 of the young man, to get a look at his cards ; while the third 
 who holds some cards behind him, has a look of low cun- 
 ning. The whole group is inimitable ; the unsuspecting, 
 innocent face of the first, the artifice, the wickedness ex- 
 pressed in the countenances of the others, combine to make 
 this one of the best, because one of the most expressive, 
 pictures 1 have ever seen. Here too were a fine Madonna 
 and child ; a Cleopatra lying on a bed, holding the asp to her 
 bosom ; Moses, by Guido, in the act of breaking the Tables 
 of the Law, a most splendid picture, the face so expressive 
 of indignation mingled with grief; a Magdalen, by the same 
 painter ; several pictures by Titian, Guercino, Bassano, Lan- 
 franco ; many landscapes by Poussin, and some by Claude 
 Lorraine, whose pictures are characterized by beautiful 
 scenery, fine coloring and the softest and most glowing skies. 
 But most of all was I charmed with a painting by Leonardo 
 da Vinci of two females, representing Modesty and Vanity, 
 Vanity has a handsome face, but a simple, self-conceited, 
 coquettish look. Her hair is nicely dressed and adorned 
 W'ith ornaments, while in one of her beautiful hands is a 
 little sprig, which she holds as if about to put it in some part 
 of her dress. Her robes are rich and so arranged as to dis- 
 play her bust to the finest advantage. Directly opposite to 
 her stands Modesty, dressed in the plainest manner, with a 
 veil thrown over her head and covering hatf of her person. 
 She has the sweetest, gentlest, most angelic face. We sat 
 down and gazed upon it, and when at last compelled to leave 
 it, turned a longing look behind, to catch one more glimpse 
 of that sweet, downcast face. This picture is by many 
 amateurs called the finest in Rome, nay even in the whole 
 world. 
 
LETTERS. 131 
 
 I do not know but you are quite tired of pictures, but 
 really I must tell you of one or two more collections, and 
 then I shall have done, at least till we get to Florence. In 
 the gallery of the Doria Palace is a most superb collection. 
 The gallery runs round a large court, and is literally lined 
 with paintings ; of course I cannot begin to give you any 
 account of them, neither am I sure that you would wish it. 
 Suffice it to say, that we saw there some of the choicest 
 works of art. The two principal landscape painters are Sal- 
 vator Rosa and Claude Lorraine. Yet how entirely unlike 
 is the character of their productions, those of Rosa's being 
 distinguished by wild and fearful scenes, while those of 
 Claude's are soft and beautiful. By far the best picture in 
 the Doria gallery, at least in our eyes, was " a Holy Family," 
 by Sassoferrato, a name I had never before heard. The face 
 of the Virgin is most perfect, so soft, so tender, as she gazes 
 down upon the infant Jesus, who lays with his sweet childish 
 face upturned on her bosom. Beside them was Joseph, 
 whose manly face and form compared well with the rest of 
 the picture. After making the circuit of the rooms, I could 
 not forbear going back to gaze again on this picture, before 
 leaving it forever. 
 
 One more picture, and I have done. Not but what there 
 are countless others that I might tell you about, but for fear 
 of wearying you I desist, or else you would well think me as 
 enthusiastic on the subject as the Italians themselves. But 
 to the. painting ; it is a fresco in the Palace Rospigliosi, 
 (there's a hard word for you,) painted by Guido, by some 
 considered the finest fresco in Rome. Byron says it is worth 
 a visit to Rome just to see that. It represents Aurora seat- 
 ed in her car, drawn by four horses, riding on the clouds, 
 while before her horses is a nymph bearing flowers in her 
 hand. Nymphs are dancing all round, and a little Cupid is 
 flying over the car with a torch in his hand. The figures 
 and faces are beautiful, and the coloring fine. Being on the 
 ceiling, however, it is not seen to good effect. And now I 
 
133 LETTERS. 
 
 bid farewell to the magnificent paintings of Rome. They 
 have unfolded a new world of beauty to my eyes, hitherto un- 
 accustomed to behold such works of art. I thought when I 
 first began visiting these galleries, that I should soon tire of 
 seeing so many pictures, but the effect is quite the contrary. 
 The mind in this respect grows with " what it feeds upon," 
 and I have already learnt to tell different artists by their 
 works, and to have my favorites even among so many choice 
 ones, where it seems difficult to select. Let me call your 
 attention to one more church, and then I have done with 
 churches. I never before realized the effect of church ar- 
 chitecture upon the mind, so fully as I have done since I 
 have been in this country. Although consecrated to a dif- 
 ferent faith from what I profess, yet I have never had my 
 feelings more kindled to devotion, than some time when to- 
 ward sunset I have found myself within some vast pile, 
 where there was naught to break the stillness but the sound 
 of our own footsteps. A solemn awe would come upon my 
 spirit. In the " dim religious light," cast by the last beams 
 of the sun, I have gazed up the long aisles, and in the 
 deep shadow of a pillar caught the glimpse of a white statue, 
 and it seemed like a spirit, pure and gentle, hovering over 
 the place. 
 
 But the church about which I began to speak has far dif- 
 ferent claims upon our attention than architectural merits. 
 In fact I did not notice those at all, so that I cannot even 
 tell in what style it is built. Nay we did not stop at all in 
 the church, but went down a dark stairway into the very 
 cell where St. Peter was imprisoned. This is no story got 
 up by the Romanists to attract attention, but a historical 
 fact, for this is no other than the celebrated Mammertine 
 prison, where Jugurtha, an African king, was confined, con- 
 demned to die of hunger. There are two rooms, one over 
 the other, but both under ground. They are about twenty- 
 five feet long. It was in the lower dungeon that the apostle 
 was confined, till led forth to suffer martyrdom. A stone 
 
LETTERS. 133 
 
 pillar is shown, to which he was bound, and near tliis is a 
 small spring of water, which tradition says burst forth sud- 
 denly, at a time when he wished to baptize his jailors and 
 some of his fellow-prisoners. It is said, I can't tell how 
 truly, that forty-seven persons were confmed in this small 
 room at the same time. There is in the roof of each cell an 
 aperture sufficiently large to admit the body of a man, and 
 it is supposed that it was through this that the prisoners 
 were let down and drawn up, as there are no remains of an 
 ancient staircase, only of a narrow, secret one by which the 
 jailors used to go down to carry food. It is a dark, damp, 
 dreary looking place, with no opening to admit the blessed 
 air and light of heaven. I can form some idea of all the 
 primitive Christians had to endure under the persecution of 
 wicked emperors, when I visit such ancient prisons, and the 
 damp, unwholesome catacombs where for months they were 
 excluded from the fresh air. 
 
 And now let us change the scene and once more go forth 
 out of the walls of modern Rome, till we find ourselves in 
 the open country. The sun is almost setting, and looking 
 on the roseate clouds and the soft landscape around us, we 
 walk through a field, where the tall grass waves almost over 
 our heads, till we come to a wooded dell, and then pass into 
 a cool grotto, where we hear the soft music of gushing water. 
 It comes from a little fountain, beside which is a recumbent 
 statue, supposed to be of the goddess Egeria, and it is said, 
 that it was within this retreat, that Numa came to consult 
 that nymph. It is a charming spot, and well suited for those 
 vv'ho seek retirement and contemplation after being wearied 
 with the cares of this "working-day world." 
 
 As we came back to our hotel, we stopped at a cafe where 
 we got some delicious ices, somewhat resembling our ice 
 cream, though still quite different. We did not get out of 
 our carriage, but sat there and ate them, while there were 
 a dozen carriages around us, their occupants engaged in the 
 12 
 
134 LETTERS. 
 
 like pleasant manner. And thus have passed the last two 
 days, the records of which are before you. I leave you now 
 awhile. As ever, yours. 
 
 Rome, Saturday. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 As we went to the Postoffice this morning to deposit my 
 last letter, we met a great many boys running, and men ap- 
 parently in haste, as though some extraordinary event had 
 happened, and then one or two bells in the neighborhood 
 struck up a merry peal. Of course this attracted our atten- 
 tion, and we turned to John for an explanation. A lottery 
 had just been drawn, and this was the cause of all the com- 
 motion. The boys were messengers from the office ; they 
 carried little slips of paper on which were written the prize 
 numbers. Wherever they went they were stopped by men, 
 women and children, who were anxious to see if by chance 
 they had drawn a prize. Some of the faces wore a saddened 
 look, some an indifferent, don't-care-for-any-thing expression, 
 while others seemed to say, " well, I have lost this time, 
 but I '11 try again." John, it appeared, had some tickets, for 
 he was on the look-out for one of the messengers, but his 
 were not among the favored few. These lotteries belong to 
 the State, and are drawn here every second Saturday, and in 
 Florence on the alternate weeks. I noticed many lottery 
 offices in Naples. Both there and here the price for tickets 
 is low, and I do not doubt, but that many of the people who 
 sit by the way-side and beg money from passers-by, spend a 
 part of what they get in this species of gambling. 
 
 There are more beggars here than I have yet seen in any 
 one city. Some of them wear medals, showing that they are 
 licensed beggars. A few of these, however, have to work a 
 little every day, and at such an hour they assemble in certain 
 places, and the officer who has the oversight of them gives 
 
LETTERS. 135 
 
 them a loaf of bread, and one or two pauls a day, (a paul is 
 ten cents of our money.) But the queerest beggars are those 
 who wear the habit of a monk, and have a cloth drawn down 
 over their faces, with two holes cut out for the eyes, which 
 are all that is seen. On the top of this cloth mask is wrought 
 " the skull and bones." The hat is tied behind on the back ; 
 they carry in their hands a little tin money-box, which they 
 hold out to every one they meet. One of them accosted Mr- 
 D. to-day, but he told John to ask him to take that thing off 
 his hce, that he might see who he was, but John drew back, 
 declaring that he dared not, as no one knew who these beg- 
 gars were. Some say they are priests or cardinals in dis- 
 guise, and that they go thus as a sort of penance ; but if they 
 are not known, where is the mortification and self-denial ? 
 Others suppose them to be spies of the Inquisition, and that 
 they go about thus concealed, to trap the unwary. 
 
 We have spent a part of the day in visiting the ancient 
 Capitol, where have occurred some of the most stirring 
 events recorded in Roman history. Here, as every where 
 else in Rome, are paintings and sculpture, but as I have 
 already written so much on these subjects, I will now pass 
 them over in silence. From the tower of the Capitol, we 
 had the finest view of the city we have yet obtained, not even 
 excepting that from St. Peter's, because it is in the centre of 
 the city, and therefore all the houses, ruined palaces and 
 temples lay in a mass at our feet. Here was the ancient 
 Forum, surrounded with the ruins of the temples of Concord, 
 Fortune, and Jupiter Serapis ; farther on, the arches of Ti- 
 tus and Constantine, and near them the magnificent Colos- 
 seum, while all around were scattered fragments of former 
 splendor. Below us was the far-famed Tarpeian Rock, down 
 which condemned prisoners were formerly thrown, but so 
 much has the earth been filled up of late years, that there is 
 now nothing frightful about it. 
 
 A part of the Capitol is still used as a Senate Chamber. 
 Before the doors, the senators' carriages were drawn up, with 
 
136 LETTERS. 
 
 the servants in attendance, having on their gorgeous livery, a 
 long red cloak over a coat and short breeches of the same. 
 From one of them John learned that the Pope was to attend 
 vespers at St. Peter's. Mr. T. was at home waiting for John 
 to go out with him to do some shopping; but J. and I thought, 
 instead of going with them, that we would go to St. Peter's, 
 so we hurried off. 
 
 After waiting there a long time, I inquired of several if the 
 Pope was not coming, but no one understood me. At last I 
 accosted one of the servants of a senator, and by summoning 
 to my aid all the Italian words I could think of, I succeeded 
 in finding out that he was officiating in one of the chapels in 
 the Vatican. I asked if ladies were admitted. He pointed 
 to my bonnet; alas! I had left my veil at home, and so was 
 excluded. At first I felt a little disappointed, but after wan- 
 dering through the magnificent aisles and numerous chapels 
 of this immense church, I thought the time was better spent 
 than in listening to the unintelligible service, and in witness- 
 ing the pomp and parade of the papal religion. 
 
 And now we have gone the rounds of sight-seeing in Rome. 
 Many weeks might be here profitably spent, but the weather 
 is so sultry that we have been obliged to quicken our move- 
 ments. Still I believe we have neglected nothing of conse- 
 quence. Many churches and palaces and ruins we have vis- 
 ited that I have not mentioned, for fear of making my letters 
 altogether too long. There are few places in the world of 
 more general interest to strangers than Rome. To the his- 
 torical and classical reader it is full of thrilling associations; 
 to the lover of the fine arts it presents constant food. No one 
 can visit this city, without being struck with the idea of how 
 vast must have been her wealth and resources, when in her 
 early days she erected so many magnificent buildings. When- 
 ever I walk among these ruins, and see the scale on which 
 they were built, and how they abounded with pillars and 
 statues, I can but wonder whence came the millions of dol- 
 lars they must have cost. And yet in those times of wars 
 
LETTERS. 137 
 
 and oppressions, doubtless much of it came from tributes 
 paid by conquered provinces. And yet this splendor and 
 wealth, after all, served but to enervate the minds of the 
 people of Rome, till she fell from her proud eminence as mis- 
 tress of the world, and became what she now is, the seat of 
 desolation and ruin. And oh ! if now she is magnificent in 
 her fall, what must she have been in the full blaze of her 
 meridian glory, when in all her pride and pomp she sat, as 
 mistress of the world, enthroned upon her seven hills ? 
 
 In our ride this evening we were much amused with an 
 examination a load of hay was undergoing in passing through 
 one of the gates of the city. An officer had a sharp pointed 
 rod in his hand, which he was thrusting through the hay in 
 all directions, to see, or rather to feel, if any contraband 
 goods were concealed in it. I could not help thinking of the 
 stories I had heard of persons hiding themselves in a load of 
 hay, and so getting in or out of a city, but it could not have 
 been when custom-house officers were as sharp as they are 
 here, for in this instance a man thus concealed would run 
 " a pretty smart chance " of having his ribs punched. 
 
 Every man who brings provisions into the city, has to 
 undergo a strict examination; even our washerwoman, who 
 lives without the walls, can never bring home our clothes till 
 at the gate they have been examined. Is it not a queer coun- 
 try to live in? 
 
 We start for Florence on Monday. We have had many 
 discussions as to the way of going. There is no Diligence, 
 and you must go either by post, or by vetturino. By post, 
 you are hurried through the country, travelling night and 
 day, and with but little time given you for stopping, and the 
 charges are enormous. By vetturino, you hire a carriage, 
 two horses and a driver, and for such a sum he agrees to take 
 you the specified distance, to be so many days in going, to 
 stop two or three hours in the middle of the day, and during 
 all the night, and to give you, without extra charges, your 
 dinner and lodging, his own board and the food for his horses 
 12* 
 
13S LETTERS. 
 
 included. All other expenses you must defray yourself. It 
 is by far the best way of seeing the country ; it is much 
 the cheapest ; there is but one drawback — you are so long 
 going, that a good deal of. time is consumed, and you run the 
 risk of meeting with some poor inns. However, after long 
 deliberation, we have decided to go by vetturino. We have 
 therefore engaged a good strong carriage that will seat four, 
 two stout horses, and a man named Francesco, who will act as 
 an interpreter for us from place to place, as he speaks French 
 fluently. He agrees to take us to Florence in five days, the 
 distance being about one hundred and fifty miles. I must 
 say the idea of being so long on the road this hot weather, is 
 any thing but pleasant to me. Perhaps the journey will turn 
 out better than I anticipate. 
 
 Sunday evening'. 
 
 We again attended church this morning, where we united 
 in the service we love, and where the holy communion was 
 administered. 
 
 We paid our farewell visit to St. Peter's this evening. I 
 took a melancholy interest in looking for the last time on the 
 masterpieces of art that I have seen almost every day since 
 I have been in Rome. I could spend days in wandering 
 through the "long aisles" and "proudly arched chapels" of 
 this gorgeous edifice. I looked again and again upon the 
 noble monuments that had so oft attracted my attention, and 
 when forced at last by the deepening shades of evening to 
 depart, I turned sorrowfully away, and sighed that I never 
 more should gaze on grand St. Peter's. 
 
 This is the first moonlight evening we have had since we 
 have been in Rome, and we took advantage of it to go and 
 see the Colosseum by moonlight. There is something so 
 saddening in the nature of ruins, that they must always 
 appear under a better aspect by moonlight, than under the 
 full beams of the sun, for does not the " Poet of the North " 
 say, that the sunlight " gilds but to flout the ruins grey? " 
 
LETTERS. Igg 
 
 We walked among the monuments of past glory, now jest- 
 ing beneath some broken arch, now climbing some half 
 ruined staircase, and admiring the effect of the light as it fell 
 in softened shadows through the trees which grew amono- the 
 scattered pillars. " The stars shone through the rents of 
 ruin," and the mild, pale light of the young moon fell so 
 softly, so purely, now lighting up an arched passage, now 
 falling on a shattered column, that we were tempted to stay 
 much longer than in prudence we ought, as we found, when 
 wearied and chilled, we returned to our rooms. And now 
 must I say farewell to Rome? It is a sad word, but how 
 often has it to be spoken in this chequered life of ours! We 
 meet but to part, we love but to lose, and thus we go on 
 till we pass the bounds of this life, and enter upon that 
 " where partings shall be no more." 
 
 Florence, Saturday. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Thus you see our long journey has been accomplished, and 
 we have safely arrived at its termination, and you will doubt- 
 less be happy to know, that I did not find it tedious nor dis- 
 agreeable at all. On the contrary, 1 am satisfied that this 
 way of travelling, though rather slow, is, after all, the best, if 
 one wishes to see the country. By stopping to rest a few 
 hours in the heat of the day, and having each night for re- 
 pose, we avoided fatigue, and felt active and bright all the 
 time. How much better is this, than riding day and night 
 in the Diligence, or dashing through the country by post. 
 The weather has been delightful, and the road excellent. 
 During the first day's ride, the country was not very pleas- 
 ant; there was wild, rugged beauty, but the land was uncul- 
 tivated, but after that, it assumed a new aspect. Finely 
 cultivated fields appeared on either side of the road ; the vine 
 
140 LETTERS. 
 
 stretjshed from tree to tree. Deep, dark ravines and mountain 
 passes often added new and stern beauty to the scene. One 
 afternoon we stopped at Terni, where we took a carriage and 
 visited the falls, about five miles distant. In addition to our 
 own party, we had the pleasure of the company of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Brown, whom we met on the road to Florence, a day's 
 journey from Rome. Mr. B. is an American artist of much 
 promise ; he spent the last winter in Rome, and expects to 
 pass the present season in this city, where he has orders to 
 copy some paintings for an American gentleman. 
 
 The ride to the Falls of Terni was through a most pic- 
 turesque country, abounding in mountains, some rocky and 
 rugged, others covered with trees and shrubs. Arriving at 
 the spot where carriages must be abandoned, we had a ro- 
 mantic walk through wild passes, up and down steep paths, 
 till we were in sight of the falls, which came tumbling down 
 over the rocks, a distance of nearly four hundred feet. We 
 took several different views, and found them all grand. The 
 mountains encircling us around, added tothegrandeur of the 
 scene ; on their tops rested deep dark clouds, sometimes 
 varied with those of a brighter, softer, more beautiful hue. 
 We wandered round, listening to the roaring of the water, as 
 it danced and leaped along, wishing only that we had more 
 time to bestow on so enchanting a spot. The only drawback 
 to our felicity was, that we were followed by a troop of men, 
 boys, women and girls, some wanting one thing, some an- 
 other; some to sell coral and pieces of petrified wood, others 
 leading donkeys, which they urged us to ride, and all equally 
 troublesome. At one time I stopped and counted sixteen 
 difierent ones in our wake. 
 
 On Thursday we crossed a part of the range of the Apen- 
 nines, where we were obliged to have a yoke of oxen ahead 
 of our horses to assist us in the ascent. We stopped that 
 noon at Perugia, a small city seated on the very top of a 
 high mountain, and surrounded by a strong wall. We vis- 
 ited the cathedral, a handsome edifice, with an arched ceil- 
 
LETTERS. 141 
 
 ing painted in fresco, and supported by large stone pillars, 
 stuccoed to resemble marble. 
 
 There was a fine window of painted glass, representino- 
 the deposition from the cross, and a beautiful painting on 
 the same subject. We also saw in the house of the mayor, 
 a picture by Raphael, said to have been done when he was 
 only eighteen, which Mr. B. thought could not be true, as it 
 was much superior to any of his works done at that early 
 age. 
 
 We visited the old Augustan gate, built in the time of 
 Augustus, of solid pieces of stone, put together without any 
 cement. It seems even now, strong and well preserved, and 
 bids fair to defy time for years to come. 
 
 From Perugia to Passignano, the ride was delightful, 
 through a picturesque country abounding in hill and dale. 
 We were obliged to employ oxen twice, so long and steep 
 were some of the hills. We passed at a distance several 
 villages seated on the airy heights of the mountains and 
 surrounded by solid walls. The country was exceedingly 
 well cultivated. Here we saw the olive tree. It has a light 
 green leaf and small yellow blossoms. The oil serves for 
 cooking, for eating and for burning. It is said to be nicer 
 here than any where else in Italy, but as I never eat it, I 
 cannot testify to its goodness. 
 
 All along in that neighborhood we met women and girls, 
 riding their donkeys " a la mode" man, or speaking right 
 out in plain English, " man fashion." It looked rather 
 queer to see their brown legs, often bare to the knees ; how- 
 ever, it is the fashion, and they did not seem to mind it. 
 
 Passignano is a dirty little village, but charmingly situated 
 on the lake of Perugia, which is fairly embosomed among 
 mountains. For four or five miles our road was along the 
 bank of the lake, now in full view, now just hidden by the 
 overarching trees. I was determined to have a room from 
 which I could see the lake, and we had to fight hard for it, 
 not with weapons of warfare, but with those with which 
 
142 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 woman is more conversant, the tongue, and as usual I gain- 
 ed my point. It was a miserable little inn, and I thought it 
 was too bad amid all the discomforts, to be shut out of the 
 sight of that enchanting little lake. While waiting for din- 
 ner, I sat down by the window and looked forth upon the 
 water, over which the setting sun shed a soft light, and the 
 clouds assumed beautiful tints of red and blue. Twilight 
 came, and still I sat and looked, when suddenly o'er a dis- 
 tant mountain top the moon came up, and soon lake and 
 mountains and valleys were smiling in its soft light. After 
 dinner, while writing, I could not resist the temptation of 
 often rising and going to the window to gaze upon the fairy- 
 like scene. 
 
 How striking are the contrasts we meet in life. Amid 
 this charming country, this country so well cultivated, and 
 where plenty seems to abound, we meet beggars on every 
 side. I wonder if they are so poor, or if they thus assume 
 the appearance of poverty to attract pity and attention. One 
 day Mr. T. bought five loaves of bread, for about five cents 
 of our money, which he gave away, and it was astonishing 
 to see how greedily the people received it, though being so 
 cheap it would seem within the reach of every one. 
 
 Last night we stopped at Monte Varchi, a small village, 
 where we had a moderately good dinner and a good bed, but 
 the charges were exorbitant. However, as this concerned 
 Francesco and not us, we stood calmly by, while he. Italian- 
 like, stormed away quite furiously. But when it came our 
 turn to settle for our breakfast, and I found they charged me 
 three pauls (thirty cents) for one egg and a small piece of 
 bread, then I began, and in a mixture of French and Italian 
 and gestures more easily understood than my language per- 
 haps, assented to the truth of what Francesco had been say- 
 ing. However, in this instance the innkeeper was not to be 
 moved by scolding and threats, and so in contemptuous in- 
 dignation we took our seats in the carriage. 
 
 And here let me give you a little instance of Francesco's 
 
LETTERS. 143 
 
 natural politeness. Every morning when I enter the car- 
 riage I see hanging over my seat a little bunch of flowers, 
 and when I point to them and thank him for them he smiles 
 and says, " Oh, it is nothing for me, but Madame loves 
 them." Sometimes they are accompanied by little gifts of 
 fruit and nuts, particularly apricots, and that kind of walnut 
 we call " the English walnut," which grows here in abun- 
 dance. When I meet with any difficulty in cracking them, 
 I hand them out of the window to Francesco, and he laughs 
 and takes them in a certain manner in his hands and then 
 by clasping them together suddenly cracks them with perfect 
 ease. 
 
 Since we entered Tuscany we have noticed a very per- 
 ceptible difference in the aspect of affairs. The country 
 was more cultivated, the houses better looking, and there 
 Vv^ere not quite so many beggars in the road as had lately 
 beset us. It was only now and then, that the beautiful face 
 of the country was varied by a sterile looking mountain, or 
 an unfruitful field. 
 
 We were stopped awhile at the gates of the city, where 
 our passports were examined, and I suppose our baggage 
 would have been, and vigorously too, if Francesco had not 
 slipped a few pauls into the hands of the officer, who bowed 
 and said, "pass on." \ 
 
 Our ride through the streets to the Hotel d'York was 
 very pleasant. We passed through fine streets, by handsome 
 houses, and by more beautiful shops, than we have seen 
 since we left Paris. 
 
 It was only one o'clock when we arrived at the hotel, and 
 then we had the labor to go through with of selecting our 
 rooms, and making arrangements for our meals. I say, 
 " labor," for you have to bargain for every separate thing 
 you will need. The waiters here speak French, so I acted 
 as interpreter. First we had to select our rooms ; these we 
 must see to know which to choose and what was to be the 
 price. In addition to our sleeping rooms we were obliged 
 
^/ 
 
 144 LETTERS. 
 
 to engage a room in which we are to take our breakfast, 
 there being no ordinary, or as it is called here " table 
 d'hote," for breakfast. About the breakfast itself, there was 
 a distinct bargaining, there being two kinds of breakfasts. 
 One is simply called breakfast, at which you are allowed tea, 
 bread and boiled eggs ; the price of this is one franc and a 
 half, (about twenty-five cents,) the other is called " dejeu- 
 ner a la fourchette," literally meaning, a breakfast where 
 one has to use a fork. Here you are allowed meats, and 
 even fruits ; for this you are charged about three francs. So 
 you must decide what kind of breakfast you will have, and 
 you are charged accordingly. Dinner is four francs a-piece, 
 whether we take it in our own rooms or at the public table. 
 These preliminaries over, we engaged our " valet de place," 
 and I think John must be quite as common a name in Italy 
 as in our own country, for our man here answers to that 
 name, as well as the one we had in Rome. 
 
 Then having two or three hours at our command, we 
 walked out to see the lions. Of course, as in every city, you 
 are first taken to the Cathedral. This is a splendid, ancient 
 looking church, built of alternate slabs of black, white and 
 green marble, which are now however quite discolored by 
 time. As I entertained you with so many accounts of 
 churches in Rome, I will pass this one by in silence. Back 
 of the church is the Baptistery, a circular building of the 
 same materials as the Cathedral. The doors are of bronze, 
 and are so beautifully sculptured in bas-reliefs, as to draw 
 from Michael Angelo the exclamation, that they were wor- 
 thy of being the gates of heaven. Within the Baptistery, 
 service was being performed, in the midst of which a priest 
 baptized an infant. He first laid his hand upon its head, 
 after which he put upon it the end of his scarf, on which 
 was embroidered a cross. It was then carried to the font, 
 on the edge of which it was held, while a basin of water was 
 poured over its head. This the poor little thing bore with 
 all the patience in the world. It did not look more than 
 
LETTERS. 145 
 
 three weeks old, and seemed, I thought, too stupid to notice 
 any thing. 
 
 By the side of the Baptistery is the tower, also built of 
 alternate slabs of marble. It is said to be the most splendid 
 tower in Italy, and is two hundred and eighty feet high. In 
 this are the bells of the Cathedral. They were all rung 
 together this evening and " discoursed sweet music." In- 
 deed all the bells in Italy have very rich, mellow tones. 
 
 The streets of Florence are quite wide, and very clean. 
 Many of the houses are built of square slabs of dark colored 
 stone, which give them a massy appearance. The houses 
 are not numbered by streets as with us, but the numbers o-q 
 on from one street to another. The river Arno flows through 
 the city, and is spanned by several handsome bridges. Thus 
 far we are much pleased with this city. 
 
 But it is getting late, and I must close. As ever, yours. 
 
 Florence, Tuesday. 
 My dear p. : 
 
 I felt so much fatigued after our long journey, that I did not 
 go out on Sunday, although there was service in the house of 
 the British ambassador, but it was some distance from our 
 hotel. Yesterday and to-day we have spent in visiting pal- 
 aces and churches, where we have seen many of the finest 
 productions of the painter and the sculptor. We first visited 
 the Royal Gallery, where is a superb collection of statuary 
 and paintings, but as I said so much on these subjects while 
 in Rome, I will here pass lightly over them. Three long cor- 
 ridors were filled with sculpture, and I cannot tell how many 
 rooms with pictures. Separate rooms were devoted to the 
 different schools of paintings, the Tuscan, Italian, Neapoli- 
 tan, Venitian, French, Flemish, Dutch, &:-c., and among 
 these were some of the most perfect works of art. 
 13 
 
146 LETTERS. 
 
 In one room is the celebrated Venus de Medicis, of which 
 I have heard almost ever since I heard any thing. At first I 
 was disappointed in it, and could not but hope that I had 
 mistaken the guide, and that this was not the Venus. Not 
 but what it is very beautiful, and a perfect model of female 
 grace and loveliness, but I have seen so many fine statues 
 lately, that I have become quite an epicure in my taste. 
 However, it grew upon my regards, and after I had looked 
 upon it some time, I thought it indeed lovely. I could but 
 wish that some of our belles could take a look at this statue, 
 and contrast their own distorted and disfigured forms with 
 the full expanded chest, the large, round waist of this beauti- 
 ful figure. 
 
 We went into another room, called the " Cabinet of 
 Gems," and "gems" indeed they were, consisting of vessels 
 of jasper, agate, onyx, chalcedony, amethyst, cornelian, lapis- 
 lazuli, pearl, &.C., jewels of gold and silver, and rings set 
 with the rarest stones. There was a beautiful table of mo- 
 saic, representing the port of Leghorn. This mosaic is dif- 
 ferent from any other kind I have yet seen, being composed 
 of precious stones and valuable marbles. On this table the 
 sea was of lapis-lazuli, and the brilliant blue of this stone 
 well represents the deep color of the Mediterranean. 
 
 Afterwards we visited the Acaderny of Fine Arts, where 
 we saw the whole process of making these mosaics, from 
 cutting the stones to the size needed, to polishing the work 
 when finished. Around the room, in glass cases, were ar- 
 ranged stones the most rare and precious, and gathered from 
 all countries ; marbles, porphyry, granite, serpentine, verd- 
 antique, (species of green marble) alabaster, amethyst, (some 
 brought from Hindostan) agate, and I cannot tell what else, 
 shone in rich profusion. Here were the most splendid tables 
 I ever saw. Almost all were for the Grand Duke of Tusca- 
 ny ; two or three were for churches. The top of one small 
 round table occupied seven persons four years, and cost two 
 thousand pounds. The grapes in the centre were of ame- 
 
LETTERS. 147 
 
 thyst, and the flowers of chalcedony. Another table, about 
 five feet long, occupied ten persons six years, and cost thirty- 
 five hundred pounds. The ground-work of this was of por- 
 phyry, the flowers of petrified wood, lapis-lazuli, jasper and 
 agate. 
 
 We saw also, the monument which, though finished, has 
 not yet been erected, that the Grand Duke has had made for 
 his wife, who has been dead several years. I can imagine 
 nothing richer. The sarcophagus in which the body is to be 
 placed is of the most beautiful Egyptian granite, on the front 
 of which are wrought in mosaic the arms of Tuscany and of 
 Saxony ; (she was of the house of Saxony.) Then comes a 
 magnificent basin of porphyry, on the cover of which is the 
 crown, made of rare marbles. It certainly is a splendid 
 thing; indeed it ought to be, for it has already cost the 
 Grand Duke fifty thousand dollars. Forty men were em- 
 ployed on it, working day and night for five years, and 
 although it has been finished four years, it has been here all 
 this time, because, forsooth, the Grand Duke cannot decide 
 where to have it put. 
 
 I told the overseer who showed us round the establishment, 
 and who seemed like a very intelligent man, that I should 
 like to be Grand Duke until I got all thes3 fine things in my 
 possession, and then I would willingly resign the office. He 
 spoke in the highest terms of the government of the Grand 
 Duke, and said he governed his people like a father, and not 
 as a tyrant. He told me the workmen in this establishment 
 get from thirty cents a day to a dollar, according to the part 
 of the work they have to do; and if they or their families are 
 sick, they have medical attendance without expense to them. 
 When one dies, a pension is settled upon the widow. 
 
 In other rooms we saw beautiful paintings, originals of 
 those in the Church of San Lorenzo. One of the finest of 
 these is Hagar, sent forth by Abraham. The sad, mournful 
 look in the sweet face of Hagar, the childish grief in that of 
 Ishmael, the stern countenance of the Patriarch, the unyield- 
 
148 LETTERS. 
 
 ing face of Sarah, the innocent, pleading expression of the 
 young Isaac, are inimitable. A picture of fearful sublimity 
 is Christ, sitting in His glory, to judge the world. Below 
 him stand the angels, driving the condemned ones to the 
 place of torment, whose bodies, as they descend, seem to 
 reflect the lurid flames below, which are visible only by this 
 reflection. Then there is a painting of the Crucifixion. At 
 the foot of the cross are two or three women, whose faces 
 express the deepest grief One clings closely to the cross, 
 as though she could not let her Redeemer go ; the others 
 stand with looks upturned, weeping for their Lord and 
 Master. 
 
 After dinner, yesterday, we rode out to the Cascine, the 
 Grand Duke's park. The most of the way the road was 
 bordered with trees, with rich meadows on either side, then 
 it passed through thick woods, the shade of which was really 
 refreshing. This park is three miles in extent, and is beau- 
 tifully laid out with winding walks and rides. It is at all 
 times thrown open to the public, and here at the usual hour 
 for riding, you will meet a great number of carriages filled 
 with the fashionables of the city. At one particular place, 
 many leave their carriages and walk. Here I have seen the 
 handsomest women I have met in Europe, for I must say the 
 ladies in France and Italy are the homeliest I ever saw; but 
 I suspect the most of those we saw in the Cascine were Eng- 
 lish. 
 
 We spent all this morning at the Pitti Palace, which belongs 
 to the Grand Duke. It is an immense edifice, built in the 
 usual Florentine style, that is, of large blocks of stone. In this 
 palace is the choicest collection of paintings in the world ; at 
 least so say some connoisseurs. There are several Madonnas 
 by Raphael, how beautiful I need not say, since it is enough 
 that they are by him. One of these is such a favorite of the 
 Grand Duke's, that he takes it with him in his carriage, 
 whenever he goes any distance from Florence. There were 
 masterpieces by Rubens, Domenichino, Caravaggio, Coreg- 
 
LETTERS. 149 
 
 gio, Carlo Dolci, Titian, Tintoretto, and a host of others. I 
 do not know when I ever enjoyed any thing so much as the 
 visit to this palace. 
 
 We saw only the rooms open to the public, so took more 
 notice of the paintings than the furniture. In fact, furniture 
 is a secondary consideration, and I should not mention it, 
 only that you may have some idea how the rooms look. In 
 the Pitti Palace, the frames of the chairs and sofas were all 
 gilded. In many of the rooms were splendid mosaic tables 
 and vases of Sevres porcelain of beautiful workmanship. 
 
 The bathing-room of the Grand Duchess is a nice little 
 room. The bathing-tub is of white marble, and around the 
 room are several beautiful statues. 
 
 In the rooms devoted to natural history, are beautiful 
 specimens of birds and fishes, insects and reptiles. In other 
 rooms are represented in wax all the bones of the human 
 frame, from a perfect skeleton down to the most minute 
 bone. This is the most perfect collection in the world, and 
 forms a complete school of anatomy. Parts of this collection 
 have been copied and sent into France, England and Amer- 
 ica. 
 
 Here, too, is represented in wax, the progress of the plague, 
 at the time it raged here. There were different figures, rep- 
 resenting different stages of the disease, even to the putrified 
 dead bodies in the streets. It made me shudder to see them, 
 and yet I mustered nerve enough to look steadily at them, 
 because though fearful sights, I thought I might not have 
 another opportunity to see any thing like them. 
 
 We then visited the garden of the Grand Duke, which is 
 finely laid out with noble trees and broad walks. Many of 
 the trees are kept closely trimmed so as to form hedges. I 
 saw but few flowers, but many orange and lemon trees. The 
 great basin of granite we met on our way to Pisa, is in this 
 garden, but not yet fixed in its proper place. 
 
 In an artificial lake in this garden a man was found 
 drowned last Friday morning, being the sixth person who 
 13* 
 
150 LETTERS. 
 
 has drowned himself in this place. The guards stationed at 
 the gates are very particular, and will allow none to go in 
 without permission, as we found to our sorrow, for we had 
 tickets for four persons, whereas with John we Mere five in 
 number ; so we had to wait and send back to the office and 
 get another ticket. The sun was very hot, but the crusty 
 fellow would not permit us even to rest under the shade of a 
 tree within the gate, but made us stand without under the 
 noontide beams of the sun. When we came out, Mr. D. told 
 John to tell that man if he ever came to America, he would 
 be happy to see him at his house. 
 
 After dinner, as we were crossing one of the bridges, we 
 saw the Grand Duke's carriage coming along, drawn by six 
 horses, with three or four outriders. We requested our coach- 
 man to stop, that we might have a good view of his highness. 
 Mr. D. got his hat off in readiness for a polite bow, I stood 
 up in the carriage with my glass to my eye, while J. sat very 
 composedly on his seat. The carriage swept by. Mr. D. 
 flourished away with his bows, when " lo and behold," there 
 was no one in the carriage but the infant and his attendants ! 
 Mr. D. quickly put on his hat, while I slipped quietly down 
 on my seat. How we did laugh ! I feared J. never would 
 stop. The idea of our making all that fuss for an infant and 
 its nurse was perfectly ridiculous. However, there was some 
 consolation, for I noticed that all in the streets took off their 
 hats, and made obeisance to the baby. And after all, it was 
 not so very bad, for as soon as I could cease laughing long 
 enough to make inquiries of John, I found out that the lady 
 in the carriage was sister to the Grand Duke. 
 
 As we entered the grounds of a villn, to get a celebrated 
 view of Florence, it began to rain. John went to ask per- 
 mission for us to go into the garden to obtain this view, and 
 he also took the liberty of inquiring if we might wait in the 
 house till the rain had ceased. The permission was readily 
 granted, but when he came to the carriage to tell us, we 
 refused to go in, as it was a private house. However, a gen- 
 
LETTERS. 151 
 
 tleman came out with an umbrella, and at his polite invita- 
 tion we went in. The horses were sent to the stable, and 
 John disappeared with the servants, so we could not employ 
 him as an interpreter ; we should all have been obliged to 
 sit in silence, had not an old gentleman, who seemed the 
 master of the house, began to speak to us in French. I then 
 quickly found the use of my tongue, and apologized for our 
 intrusion. But he would not admit that it was any intrusion 
 at all, and two or three ladies who were in the room, smiled 
 a welcome upon us. But as soon as it ceased raining, we 
 rose to take our leave, though not till we were most politely 
 asked to stay to supper, and even to stop all night. But with 
 our blandest smiles, and my choicest French, we declined 
 and left them. John told us the villa belonged to Cheva- 
 lier , quite a great man. We scolded him for getting 
 
 us into such a predicament, but he is such a good natured 
 old man, he would not get angry with us, and all we could 
 get out of him by way of apology, was that, " I was afraid 
 my mistress" (thus he always designates me) " would get 
 cold." 
 
 But when we saw the charming view spread out before us, 
 we forgot all else. How beautifully did Florence look, seated 
 on gently swelling hills, with the river Arno running through 
 her midst. Well may the Italians call this city "la bella," 
 (the beautiful) for she is by far the handsomest city we have 
 yet seen, always excepting Paris. Around, the hills rose 
 into mountains, whose sides and tops were dotted with villas 
 and villages. Here Galileo used to come and study the 
 stars. There is on the side of the house a marble slab 
 recording the fact. 
 
 We then rode through the city and out of the gates, and 
 passed near the villa where the Hon. Edward Everett at 
 present resides. The beauty of the rides around this city is 
 greatly impaired by the high stone walls that surround the 
 villas. I like much better the pretty hedges, though stone 
 walls remind me more of my own New England. 
 
152 LETTERS. 
 
 A''ter we got back into the city we passed the house where 
 Americus Vespucius was born. As it was from him our 
 country derived its name, we looked upcn it with no little 
 interest. It is a large stone house, three stories in height. 
 There is an inscription in marble over the doer, telling 
 whose birthplace it was. 
 
 And thus two pleasant days have passed. May the account 
 of them furnish as much pleasure to you. And now, good 
 night. 
 
 Florence, Thursday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 I have just sent off one letter to you. We send our letters 
 to our banker in Paris, and have to pay to get them out of 
 this country. He then has to pay the postage after they get 
 into France and out of France for England, otherwise they 
 will not go by the Liverpool steamships. Thus I trust entirely 
 to him to have them in England in season. Occasionally, as 
 you have seen, I have sent them by some packet ship, direct 
 from the port where I have been, but as they generally have 
 long passages, there is nothing gained by it, so I now send 
 them altogether by England. We have expected letters here, 
 but as yet none have come. 
 
 And now once more to things in Florence. We visited 
 yesterday morning the palace belonging to the Prince 
 Borghese, who resides, however, the greater part of the time 
 in Rome. We went to see this palace, not for the paintings, 
 but just to see how a real palace, belonging to a private gen- 
 tleman, looks, for the most of those we have visited, you 
 know, have been royal palaces. There are twenty-seven 
 rooms shown to visitors ; these are company rooms, the pri- 
 vate rooms never being shown. These rooms were furnished 
 in the most elegant manner, and no two are alike. The walls 
 
LETTERS. 153 
 
 were hung with satin of different colors, purple, blue, yellow, 
 green, crimson, brown, dove colored, &lc., and the covering 
 of the chairs and sofas were always of the same color and 
 material as the hangings of the wall. Some of the rooms 
 were literally lined with mirrors, over the top of which were 
 festoons of silk or damask. The card-room was hung with 
 jrreen satin ; the tables were of white marble, with gilt legs. 
 The dancing hall is very large, and is a most splendid apart- 
 ment. At each end were two marble pillars, the ceiling was 
 vaulted and painted in fresco, and all the cornices were gild- 
 ed. The walls were hung with festoons of blue and white 
 satin, with immense mirrors beneath the hangings. There 
 were three most elegant chandeliers suspended from the ceil- 
 ing, and also smaller ones in the shape of a crown around 
 the walls ; in all there were seven hundred and thirty-two 
 lamps. In several niches there were fine marble statues. 
 There was a balcony at the upper end of the hall, also hung 
 with blue and white satin, where any ladies of the house, 
 who did not wish to be seen, might come and view the 
 dancers. There was a small recess separated from the hall 
 by two pillars. In this the walls were gilded. This is for 
 the Grand Duke, when he honors the ball with his presence. 
 At every carnival the Prince comes here, and gives a mas- 
 querade ball. At the first ball given in this palace, four 
 thousand and three hundred invitations were issued, and the 
 whole suite of rooms was thrown open. 
 
 In other rooms, the walls were painted in landscapes. The 
 frames of all the chairs, sofas and tables were gilt. Each 
 room had a beautiful carpet, which is quite a rare sight in 
 Italy, and all had clocks and vases of elegant materials and 
 workmanship. This certainly comes up to my idea of a pal- 
 ace more than any thing I have yet seen. 
 
 At the entrance to the suite of rooms, at the head of the 
 staircase, was a chair in which the former Princess used to 
 sit, and thus be let down and drawn up by some kind of ma- 
 chinery, whenever she went out and came in. Quite a com- 
 
154 LETTERS. 
 
 fortable arrangement for a lady who may be too lazy or too 
 grand to go up and down stairs like other people. 
 
 The attendant, who has charge of the apartments, and 
 v/ho went round with us, paid us quite a compliment. 
 Though an Italian, he spoke French very fluently. In 
 speaking to us of our country, I asked him how he knew 
 Americans from Englishmen. He shrugged his shoulders 
 and said, "Oh, the English are proud and rather saucy, the 
 Americans are more affable and pleasant." Perhaps he 
 expected a larger fee than usual after such praise. 
 
 We then visited the Church of Santa Croce, which was 
 built about 1294. The most of the churches in Florence 
 are of a peculiar style of architecture, as least as regards the 
 exterior. The rough, unhewn stone, of which some of them 
 are built, give them a heavy, and at the same time unfinished 
 appearance. Santa Croce is particularly celebrated for its 
 monuments. The first, as you enter the door, is that of Mi- 
 chael Angelo, the prince of sculptors. The sarcophagus is 
 of white marble, on the top of which are three figures, rep- 
 resenting Painting, Sculpture and Architecture, mourning 
 over their favorite son. Sculpture is sitting, leaning for- 
 ward in an attitude of grief; the others are standing ; they 
 are all well executed. 
 
 Next to this is a more modern one erected by subscription 
 to Dante. The figures represent Poetry and Italy. They 
 were sculptured by Ricci, now a distinguished artist, but 
 lately a peasant boy. 
 
 Then comes Alfieri's monument, done by Canova. On 
 the sarcophagus leans Italy with grief on her face, mourning 
 for her distinguished son. There is also a neat, chaste and 
 beautiful monument erected to his wife. Also one to Gal- 
 ileo, poor, despised, persecuted Galileo, on which are two 
 figures representing Astronomy and Geometry. Now per- 
 haps you are ready to ask how I know what all these figures 
 represent, and whether there is any particular mark about 
 them, that would lead one to decide what they meant. I 
 
LETTERS. 155 
 
 must confess that to my eyes they look a good deal alike, 
 though Sculpture holds her own particular tools, and Paint- 
 ing hers, though as for the rest of them, Poetry, Religion 
 and Italy, I can't tell one from another without referring to 
 the guide to explain them. 
 
 We next visited a spot hallowed by peculiar associations. 
 It was the house formerly inhabited by Michael Angelo. 
 AVhy is it that there is always a charm about the places 
 where great men have lived, and that we have such a desire 
 to visit those spots ? A suite of four rooms is shown just as 
 they were left by the great sculptor and painter. In one, 
 the walls are covered with paintings, depicting various events 
 in the life of the artist, done by some of his pupils. In the 
 others were presents that he had received from various per- 
 sons, his painting utensils, and fragments of his sculpture. 
 I sat in one of his chairs, a high, stiffed back, old-fashioned 
 chair covered with green silk, and I fancied that here he 
 often sat while visions of the sublime and beautiful floated 
 before his eyes. What glory and majesty, what beauty 
 and grace are embodied in his works ! Shall we e'er look 
 upon his like again ? 
 
 Afterwards we went to the chapel of the Medici, connect- 
 ed with the church of San Lorenzo. This chapel, though 
 not yet finished, has already cost ten million dollars ! What 
 should we think of a church like that in our country ? Our 
 fellow-countrymen are too much engaged in speculation and 
 trading, to think of investing money in any other way than 
 will be for their immediate profit. 
 
 The chapel of the Medici is a small edifice of an octan- 
 gular form, and designed for a burial-place for that distin- 
 guished family, which has done more than any other to 
 beautify this city. It is surmounted by a dome, the inside 
 of which is covered with beautiful paintings, copies of those 
 I saw in the Academy of Fine Arts. The walls of the 
 chapel are all of costly materials, nothing like common mar- 
 ble being here seen. There are large slabs of jasper, por- 
 
156 LETTEPwS. 
 
 phyry, rosso antico, (a species of red marble) verd antique 
 and serpentine, (both green marbles and considered priceless) 
 alabaster and granite, this last quite different from our gran- 
 ite, being of the most perfect smoothness and polish. There 
 are six sarcophagi of the richest Egyptian and oriental gra- 
 nite. On two of them are cushions of red jasper, on which 
 are crowns composed of precious stones. Beneath these 
 sarcophagi are the remains of some of the princes of the 
 Medici family. 
 
 Behind this, is another and still smaller chapel, designed 
 by Michael Angelo. The walls are partly encrusted with 
 rich' marbles. Two of the Medici family are here buried. 
 Their monuments are adorned with magnificent sculpture 
 by Michael Angelo, though in rather an unfinished state, 
 death having seized upon that great master before he had 
 time to perfect all that his sublime genius conceived. 
 
 We visited the studio of Signor Castoli, who has a noble 
 statue of Galileo nearly finished, designed for the Pitti Pal- 
 ace. He has already been engaged four years upon it. What 
 untiring patience and perseverance, what enthusiasm in the 
 fine arts, are needed for accomplishing such works 1 But 
 then when done, they last for ages. What a stimulus is this 
 to the artist, who day and night labors on, with unwearied 
 spirit, with never-flagging energy, that long after he has 
 passed away and his name and race are almost forgotten, his 
 work, the noble conception of his genius, will live and be 
 admired ! 
 
 After dinner yesterday we rode to Fiesole, a village on 
 the top of one of the mountains that environ Florence, where 
 we had a magnificent view of this city and the surrounding 
 country. The Arno looked like a silver thread as it mean- 
 dered along, and like many other things, it looks much better 
 at a distance, than when seen near at hand, for it is a dirty 
 miserable looking river seen from the city. At this season 
 of the year however, swollen by mountain-streams and the 
 melting of mountain snows, it rushes rapidly along, bearing on 
 
LETTERS. 157 
 
 its bosom a great deal of its mother earth, which gives it a 
 dirty and turbid appearance. But we have gone away from 
 our airy height, so let us once more get back to the mountain 
 side. On our right far away in the distance we saw the 
 dark woods of Vallambrosa, while between us and them lay 
 many a sheltered dell and smiling valley. What a glorious 
 world is this in which we live ! Who can ever tire of look- 
 ing on the fair face of nature, varied as it is by mountains 
 and hills, by glens and glades, by lakes and streams 1 Back 
 and forth we walked, now looking at this prospect, now at 
 that, till the long shadows cast before us, warned us that the 
 evening shades were fast approaching, and that we must 
 turn our steps city-ward. But to this John would not con- 
 sent, till we had been into a monastery, or as in his broken 
 English he calls it, a " monkey house," (fit name surely) 
 that was near by, from which were seen fine views of the 
 city. He said they would not allow me to go in, neverthe- 
 less, when the door was opened I followed Mr. D., but I was 
 soon stopped by an exclamation from one of the monks of 
 " No, Signora, no ; " but I said, '* si, si," (yes, yes,) and 
 attempted to enter, when he gently put me back with his 
 hand. However I kept on, till he shut the door against me, 
 when I thought it was quite time for me to yield. Besides 
 he quoted the authority of the Pope, who had ordered that 
 no female should enter a monastery ; of course I could not 
 resist "the holy father." By the way, though, it is privately 
 rumored here that the Grand Duke has lately dared to resist 
 him, by taking some land from an immensely rich bishop at 
 Pisa, and appropriating it for the poor. The bishop went to 
 the Pope for redress, but the Grand Duke refused to yield 
 the point, and so the Pope sent him a private excommuni- 
 cation, which however has produced no change in his deter- 
 mination. Now whether "his holiness," will proceed to 
 extremities and publicly excommunicate him, is doubtful, 
 but if he should, there may arise a contest, that will shake 
 the pontifical power to its very centre. 
 14 
 
158 LETTERS. 
 
 John would not leave me alone, to go in the monastery 
 with the gentlemen; nothing would induce him to leave " his 
 mistress," even though told they could not understand any 
 thing without him. I really believe he thought I might be 
 spirited away, so he followed me while I walked to that part 
 of the hill where I could gaze down on the luxuriant coun- 
 try below. Nor was he the only one that kept near me, for 
 at one time I counted more than a dozen beggars around me. 
 In this city I have seen but one beggar, for if any one is 
 here seen begging, he is taken up and carried to the poor- 
 house. 
 
 To-day there has been a great fete, a sort of religious 
 ceremony, called Corpus Domini, though for what purpose 
 it was instituted I know not We were awakened very early 
 by the ringing of bells, and the sound of people in the 
 streets. We had breakfast at half-past six (a barbarous hour 
 for us) and very soon after went to the church, where the 
 most of the ceremonies were to take place. All the shops 
 in the city were closed ; the whole population seemed to be 
 in the streets. From the Cathedral where the procession 
 commenced, to the church where the ceremonies were per- 
 formed, a covered way was erected for the people to walk 
 under. The ground was strewed with sprigs of green, and the 
 windows of all the houses were hung with damask of various 
 colors. When we arrived at the church we found it one 
 blaze of light. The chandeliers were all lit up, and dozens 
 of large wax candles were burning on the altar. The walls 
 and pillars were hung with crimson damask. We had to 
 wait a long time in the church, but we had taken the pre- 
 caution to secure chairs, and by paying a small fee to one 
 of the priests, he procured us seats in the nave, through 
 which the procession was to pass. The church was crowd- 
 ed, yet the most perfect order was preserved. Soldiers 
 were stationed all around to see that every thing was right. 
 After being there about an hour and a half, we heard the 
 music, which announced the coming of the procession, and 
 
LETTERS. 159 
 
 a procession indeed it was, for I should think it consisted of 
 several thousand persons, and such looking people I never 
 before savr. Our old-fashioned militia training on the first 
 day of April was fine compared with this " turn out." It 
 seems that about all the men in Florence, the nobility 
 excepted, unite in companies on this occasion, and each 
 company chooses a particular dress, their object being to 
 imitate the different orders of monks. To-day they were 
 dressed in loose slouching robes, made of coarse cloth, 
 and of the most ugly colors imaginable, dingy white, dirty 
 brown, rusty black, chocolate, lead and snuif colored. 
 They wore on their heads a sort of hood, which was brought 
 down over their faces, so that only their eyes were seen 
 peering through little holes cut in the cloth. At the head 
 of each company walked a man having under a canopy a 
 large crucifix. Some of their canopies were very rich, 
 being of crimson velvet embroidered with gold. There 
 were several thousand men in this grotesque attire. They 
 walked up through the nave of the church, and then down 
 one of the side aisles, each one bending on one knee, as he 
 passed by the high altar, and singing as they walked along, 
 the ambition of each seeming to be, which should sing the 
 loudest. Can you imagine any thing less like a religious cere- 
 mony 1 After these had passed, then came the monks in the 
 dress of their different orders, the Dominicans, Augustinians, 
 Franciscans, Capuchins, &c. A monk is always dressed in 
 a loose flowing robe of coarse woollen cloth, girt round the 
 waist by a small rope, the knotted ends of which hang down 
 below the knees, (and, by the way, I suppose it is with this 
 that they scourge themselves when they do penance.) The 
 sleeves are loose and hanging. A large hood is attached 
 to the neck of the robe, and can be drawn down over the 
 head when occasion requires. Their heads are shaved bare 
 in a circle round the crown, which however is covered by a 
 small cap, and only seen when the cap is removed, in bow- 
 ing before the altar. Instead of shoes thev wear sandals. 
 
160 LETTERS. 
 
 and no stockings, and their bare feet (not always the clean- 
 est) seen peeping out from under their robes, are by no 
 means the least singular part of their appearance. The 
 Franciscans wear brown robes, the Dominicans or Augus- 
 tinians, I have forgotten which, white, and the Capuchins, 
 who have very long beards, dark brown. After all the 
 monks had come and gone, though where they went to after 
 they passed down the church, I cannot tell, came the 
 priests dressed in their robes of office. Of these I counted 
 nearly one thousand. Then came two or three bishops, in 
 white satin robes elegantly embroidered, and walking under 
 a canopy of white silk, borne by six priests. After them 
 walked the nobles, the lawyers and judges of the court, all 
 splendidly dressed, some in robes of silk of different colors, 
 others in black with a broad blue scarf round the waist, and 
 others still in black bordered with ermine. Last of all came 
 the Grand Duke of Tuscany in a robe of white satin, with 
 a scarlet mantle over his shoulders, his train being borne by 
 two pages, dressed in coats and pantaloons of white silk, 
 trimmed with gold lace. Directly in front of us was his 
 chair covered with crimson velvet. He did not sit down 
 however, but knelt at a little table before it. When he 
 arose from his knees, he walked down the aisle, and I saw 
 no more of him. He is a tall, thin man, rather pale, his 
 hair a little grey, and his nose slightly upturned. On the 
 whole he has a pleasing, though not a handsome face. He 
 appeared as grave and devout as one of our puritan ances- 
 tors would have looked, while listening to a learned dis- 
 course from some of the gifted, though how he can patronize 
 a parade like this, so unlike a religious festival, is more 
 than I can tell. I forgot before to say that he, and nearly 
 all the priests and nobles carried lighted torches in their 
 hands, and about as queer a thing as any, was to see little 
 boys walking along by the torches, with papers in their 
 hands, to catch the drops of grease as they fell. 
 
 We cared not to stay to see the rest of the show, so as soon 
 
LETTERS. 161 
 
 as the Grand Duke left, we left also. We tried to get out in 
 season to see him ride away from the church, but there was 
 such a crowd as to render it quite impossible. I never was 
 in such a jam before. I really thought at one time I should 
 be pressed to death. I was almost suffocated, so I was glad 
 to come back home and rest awhile. We seated ourselves 
 in a little balcony front of our window, and there looked out 
 upon the passers by. Crowds of people were in the streets, 
 dressed in their best attire, looking neat and clean. The 
 women all wore large leghorn hats. All passed by in a quiet 
 and orderly manner, no appearance of rioting and drunken- 
 ness whatever. Then came a band of music. All the 
 musicians had their notes fastened on to some part of 
 their instrument, so that they could look at them as they 
 played. A long procession of priests and monks then fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Being somewhat rested, we walked out to see what was 
 going on. The festival in the church was over, and the 
 people were returning to their houses and various occupa- 
 tions. 
 
 We visited the studio of Mr. Powers, a young American 
 sculptor of much promise. He has busts of many of our 
 distinguished fellow countrymen ; Jackson, Van Buren, 
 Granger, and some others. But the finest piece of his work- 
 manship is the statue of a young girl, I think Genevra, so 
 well known from Rogers' touching tale. The figure is small, 
 but charming ; the face, lovely. The hair is combed back 
 from the brow, and gathered into two or three curls behind ; 
 the throat and bust are beautiful, and modestly covered with 
 a light drapery. On the whole, it is a charming thing, so 
 chaste and so lovely. He is at present at work on the statue 
 of Eve ; from the clay cast, it will be most beautiful when 
 done. May we not hope that our country will yet boast cf 
 sculptors, worthy of walking in the footsteps of Canova and 
 Ricci, and Michael Angelo ? 
 
 We went also to the studio of Mr. Greenough, another 
 14* 
 
162 LETTERS. 
 
 American artist. We were disappointed in not seeing his 
 statue of Washington. It has lately been sent to Leghorn, 
 to go from there to the United States. He has orders from 
 government at home for another work, to adorn the grounds 
 of the Capitol. He showed us the model in plaster. A 
 woman, holding in her arms her babe, kneels before an In- 
 dian, who, with tomahawk in hand, has just raised his arm 
 to strike, when the husband appears, seizes him on the 
 shoulder, and thus averts the threatened blow. It will cer- 
 tainly be a grand work when completed. He expects to be 
 at least three years in doing it. 
 
 We went to see still another artist from our own land, 
 Mr. Clavenger. He has a few heads of some distinguished 
 Americans. Have we not reason to be proud of our young 
 countrymen ? I hope to see the time when they will return 
 home laden wath the rich fruits of their genius. 
 
 After dinner, we rode a little distance out of the city to a 
 ground for ball playing. This had a high wall on one side, 
 and on the other, rows of seats for spectators. There were 
 eight players, all dressed in white clothes, short breeches and 
 kid shoes. They showed great agility and strength. I was 
 quite interested in seeing them. Indeed, I have stood up so 
 much to-day, that I was glad to sit there a little while in the 
 fresh air. 
 
 iifterwards we rode on a little farther tow^ard a church, 
 where there seemed to be ceremonies similar to those we 
 witnessed in the morning, excepting that it was on a much 
 smaller scale. All the houses in the neighborhood had little 
 rows of lamps fixed on the outside, and damask hanging 
 from the windows, this damask being hired for the occasion. 
 
 We came home through the beautiful Cascine, though it 
 was so late, its beauties were almost lost upon us. 
 
 I really am too tired and sleepy to write another word ; so 
 good night. 
 
LETTERS. 163 
 
 Bologna, Saturdaj^ eve. 
 My dear F. : 
 
 Once more we are upon the wing. We left Florence yes- 
 terday morning, with the same horses and carriage and 
 driver we had from Rome. Poor John appeared to feel much 
 afflicted at parting from us. After seeing all our packages, 
 books, maps and cloaks safely stowed away in the carriage, 
 he came to me with his parting gift, neatly folded in a piece 
 of paper. It was several wafers, such as are used by the 
 Romish priests in the administration of the holy commun- 
 ion. They are quite large, round, and very thin, and are 
 stamped with a crucifix. They are made of a kind of paste. 
 After we were all seated in the carriage, he came round by 
 m.y side, and softly said, '* Now my mistress, I have one great 
 favor to ask you ; will you let me kiss your hand? " I readily 
 gave him my hand ; he gently took it and impressed upon it 
 a warm, fervent kiss, while the large tears stood in his eyes. 
 He was a kind-hearted, good-natured old man, and at our 
 first interview we quite won his heart by inquiring after his 
 family, so that ever since then he has been devoted to us. I 
 found him at the door of my room early in the morning, and 
 he never left us in the evening till he was sure we needed 
 nothing more from him that night. 
 
 We stopped last night at Pietra-mala, a small, dirty town, 
 about thirty-two miles from Florence. The lower story of 
 the inn was used as a stable, so you may well imagine our 
 room had rather a " barny " smell. While waiting for our 
 dinner, we took a little boy for a guide, and walked to a 
 small volcano about a mile from the town. Our way lay 
 over stony and rough paths, through thickets and dells, and 
 over babbling brooks, till we reached the desired spot. All 
 along I was on the lookout for the mountain, but found to 
 my astonishment, that instead of ascending we were descend- 
 ing all the time, and were actually within the crater of a 
 half extinct volcano. From a spot about twelve or fifteen 
 
164 LETTERS. 
 
 feet in diameter, the fire issued from several different open- 
 ings. It seemed to us like a species of gas, similar to that 
 we saw in the " Grotto del Cane," near Naples. Some water 
 was thrown on the fire, and it was immediately extinguished, 
 but on a lighted taper being held over the opening, it was 
 instantly rekindled. 
 
 This noon we stopped at Peonora, where we took an early 
 dinner. Just as we arrived there, it began to rain, and such 
 a storm I scarcely before witnessed. The rain and the hail 
 actually poured down, accompanied by sharp lightning and 
 heavy thunder. The inn was a scene of unusual bustle. A 
 large washing had that morning been done, and the clothes 
 were nearly dry, when the rain suddenly came, and then 
 such a scampering of women and maids ! Even the master 
 of the house, a great fat, portly man, seemed to feel deeply 
 the melancholy condition of affairs, for when he came in to 
 lay the cloth for dinner, I thought I must say something, as 
 1 found he spoke French, so I took the weather for my topic, 
 and said, " How it rains ; " to which he instantly responded 
 in a sad tone of voice, and with the most lugubrious face 
 imaginable, " Ah, yes ! Madame, and all our clothes are 
 out ! " 
 
 But most of all was I interested in observing the rapid rise 
 in a small stream near the house. I even forgot the thunder 
 and the lightning, generally such a source of terror to me. 
 When we first arrived at the inn, it was a little brook that 
 any child might have leaped over, but in less than a half 
 hour it was swollen to a mountain torrent, and it went foam- 
 ing and dashing on, down the hill-side and through the vale, 
 as though it would sweep all before it. You may easily 
 imagine from this, how soon a river, fed by a dozen such 
 streams, would rise and overflow its banks, and cause inun- 
 dations similar to those I have before mentioned to you. 
 
 The country between Florence and this city was moun- 
 tainous. We once more crossed a part of the Apennines, 
 and were oblisred aorain to have oxen to assist us. Some 
 
LETTERS. 165 
 
 parts of the scenery were very grand, presenting high 
 mountains, some rugged and barren and *' rock-ribbed," 
 others green and fertile, deep bright vales, stretching far 
 down, sometimes well cultivated, at others in all the wild 
 luxuriance of nature. Now our road was through woods 
 darkening our way, and then over barren and desolate tracts 
 of land. We saw but few houses on the road, save those 
 collected in scattered villages, and here and there guard- 
 houses for soldiers, stationed among the mountain fastnesses. 
 The deep silence was often unbroken, except by the wheels 
 of our carriage, and ever and anon the faint tinkling of 
 bells, borne on the wind from some sheltered dell. And 
 such changeable weather as we had ; I never before saw the 
 like. At one time the sun would be unclouded, the next 
 moment the rain would fall as though a second deluge was 
 about to visit the earth, and by the time the carriage win- 
 dows were well closed, and J. had dismounted from the 
 coachman's box, where he generally sits, and had entered 
 the carriage, to the great inconvenience of books and maps 
 plentifully sprinkled over the empty seat, the sun would once 
 more be shining in undimmed brilliancy. Again, a fierce, 
 cold blast would come sweeping through a mountain pass, 
 and shawls, coats and cloaks had quickly to be drawn from 
 their hiding places, and by the time we were well wrapped 
 in their warm folds, we would find the heat intolerable. And 
 yet we enjoyed the ride and the country, and often got out 
 and walked some distance. All around us were mountains 
 piled on mountains, lifting their lofty summits to the skies, 
 the clouds seeming to repose on their tops, while far down 
 we saw valleys and plains, robed in beauteous green, varied 
 here and there by a turreted castle or a village. 
 
 This morning we once more came into the dominions of 
 the Papa (as the Pope is here called), where our passports 
 were examined, and doubtless our trunks would have under- 
 gone a severe scrutiny, had not Francesco paid something to 
 let us pass without it. But the idea of bribing those well- 
 
166 LETTERS. 
 
 dressed, good-looking officers ! one would think they would 
 scorn a fee of a couple of pauls, but, on the contrary, they 
 bow, and graciously acknowledge it with a smile. In fact 
 one gets off much cheaper by so doing, than by letting them 
 take their own course, for they are altogether above unstrap- 
 ping and lifting off a trunk themselves ; inferior attendants 
 do that, and they exact quite a fee for taking off and putting 
 back three large trunks. We instantly discovered a differ- 
 ence in the aspect of the country from what it was in Tus- 
 cany, and particularly in the roads. These, in the Grand 
 Duke's dominions, are perfect; they are all macadamized, 
 and at regular intervals by the roadside, you will see heaps 
 of little stones all prepared, and ready to be put immedi- 
 ately where repairs are necessary. 
 
 From Peonora to Bologna the ride was delightful, through 
 a fertile and well cultivated country, by the side of a rush- 
 ing stream, and in sight of many beautiful country seats. 
 But unfortunately for us, just before we reached this city, 
 the rain began to pour down, which effectually prevented us 
 from seeing the beauty of the environs. However, as usual, 
 it soon became pleasant again. Bologna is delightfully sit- 
 uated in the midst of the richest plains. It is surrounded 
 by a wall, with all its appendages of moats, drawbridges, 
 and gates. We w^ere kept at least a half hour at the gates 
 waiting for our passports to be examined, till we all were 
 thoroughly out of patience. Francesco too has to have his 
 passport, which is as duly examined as ours. Often too he 
 has to dismount from his box and stand quietly by, while it 
 is searched to see if any contraband articles are there hid- 
 den. In vain we assure the officers that the carriage belongs 
 to us, that we have hired it for the occasion, and have full 
 control over it ; they assure us, in turn, that they do not 
 doubt us, but our coachman. After all, they will do as they 
 like, and the best way is to take it all patiently ; for if you 
 bluster and get angry, they search the more rigorously, being 
 convinced that you then have concealed something. 
 
LETTERS. 167 
 
 No sooner had we selected our rooms, than we started off 
 to view the city ; and oh ! how greatly were we disappointed 
 in it ! For two days we had feasted our imaginations on 
 the beautiful descriptions of this city given by Carter, an 
 American traveller, and we rejoiced that we could stop a 
 day in so charming a spot. But oh ! how often does im- 
 agination mislead us ! Instead of " the rows of houses, with 
 colonnades in front, supported by handsome pillars, in some 
 places of marble," we saw indeed the houses and the colon- 
 nades, and the pillars, but the houses were plain, and the 
 pillars of brick, slightly covered with mortar. In all our 
 walk I saw not a handsome house. Near the walls of the 
 city is a circular corso which is very pretty ; the centre is 
 covered with grass, and planted with trees, the rides and 
 walks running around it. 
 
 We entered a church, the walls of which were hung with 
 red damask, and before it was a covered way, so I suppose 
 " Corpus Domini " was celebrated here too. We visited 
 one or two galleries of paintings, where we saw some fine 
 pictures. Bologna has given birth to many distinguished 
 artists, the Caracci, Doraenichino, Albano, Guido, and Eliz- 
 abeth Serani. In one of the galleries are collected the 
 pictures that were taken from the different churches by 
 Napoleon, and carried to Paris, and here are some of the 
 best specimens of the Bolognese school. 
 
 We went into the Church of St. Dominick to see a cele- 
 brated piece of sculpture. It is on the high altar, which is 
 also the tomb of St. Dominick. On the front are bas-reliefs 
 representing scenes in the life of that saint, from the time 
 he lay a babe on his bed, till he was received into glory and 
 sat on the left hand of God ! In front of the sarcophagus 
 are two cherubs kneeling, one of which, a sweet little 
 gem, was done by Michael Angelo. 
 
 I have sat here this evening writing to you, while J. is out 
 taking a quiet walk. Mr. D. and Mr. T. have long since 
 retired to their rooms, and I sit in our part of the hotel en- 
 
168 LETTERS. 
 
 tirely alone, and yet not lonely, for in writing thus to you 
 of all that I see and hear, 1 feel as though I were almost 
 talking with you. But now I am through with what I have 
 to tell you, and I begin to wonder at J.'s absence. Not so 
 much that I feel that any ill has befallen him, for you well 
 know that it is not in my temperament to anticipate evil, but 
 he has the keys with him, and I can't get at my journal, and 
 so for the first time this many a week I sit in idleness, won- 
 dering what I shall do next. But hark ! I hear a step, and 
 the well-known voice. He enters, looking wearied and 
 flushed. And where do you think he has been the last two 
 hours 1 Why, wandering through the narrow, dark streets 
 of Bologna, trying in vain to find our hotel. The name of 
 it he had entirely forgotten. He went into two or three 
 cafes and shops, but could find no one that understood 
 French. He tried Latin ; all in vain ; to the common people 
 of Bologna that was indeed a " dead language." At last, 
 fatigued and dispirited, he went into a cafe, and there, by 
 dint of mixing French, and Italian and Latin together, he 
 found a waiter that could be made to understand his situa- 
 tion, and he showed him the way home, though not without 
 making known first that he should expect his " buono mano." 
 From the circumstance of all the houses in this city being 
 built on the same plan, with a colonnade row in front, it is 
 exceedingly difficult to find one's way about, even in the 
 daytime ; add to this, the narrow, ill-lighted streets of an 
 Italian town, and it is no wonder that one should get be- 
 wildered. 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 This morning we went to the Cathedral, which proved 
 to be the same church we visited yesterday. About one 
 hundred priests were going in procession around the church, 
 chanting in responses, one part saying something, and the 
 other singing, in answer, " ora pro nobis," (pray for us). 
 
 In the Church of St. Peter are windows of painted glass, 
 through which the light streamed beautifully. Here too is 
 
LETTERS. 169 
 
 a celebrated meridian, which extends nearly the length of 
 the church. The sun shines in upon it through a small 
 opening high up in the wall. 
 
 There are two leaning towers in Bologna, one inclining 
 four feet, and the other eight, from the perpendicular, but 
 they possess neither the classic elegance and lightness of 
 the one at Pisa, nor the ancient Gothic magnificence of the 
 Campanile at Florence. 
 
 After dinner to-day we rode out to the Campo Santo. The 
 ride was through a most beautiful country, and what ren- 
 dered it still more lovely, there were no high stone walls to 
 hide the beauties fr6m the eye, as at Florence ; nothing but 
 the low hawthorn hedge, over which we could see the fields 
 teeming with grain. The Campo Santo occupies the ground 
 where once stood a convent ; in fact its very cloisters are 
 now receptacles of the dead. This is a very extensive cem- 
 etery ; the monuments line the walls, but the most of them 
 are shabby, the figures being of plaster instead of marble. 
 There are one or two fine monuments, however ; one, a copy 
 of Canova's beautiful piece in St. Peter's, and another, 
 having on it a veiled figure in imitation of the one at Na- 
 ples, but altogether inferior to it. In the church connected 
 with this cemetery are some good frescoes. In side chapels 
 are chains taken from Christian captives belonging to Bo- 
 logna, who had been at one time prisoners in Arabia and 
 Turkey. Every where I went about in this cemetery I was 
 followed by a priest, who never took his eyes from me. I 
 was actually frightened, and once asked one of the attend- 
 ants who he was, and what he wanted. He shrugged his 
 shoulders, and said either that he was crazy or foolish, and 
 which he meant I don't know, as the same word expresses 
 the two diflTerent meanings. Any way, I was excessively an- 
 noyed, and was glad to get in the carriage and come off. 
 
 We then rode toward the Church of San Luca, which is 
 situated on a hill three miles from the city, and from which 
 a covered way supported by arches and pillars, extends the 
 15 
 
170 LETTERS. 
 
 whole distance. We left the carriage and walked a little 
 way up the hill, not intending to go to the church, but Mr. 
 D. and Mr. T. got ahead of us, and we lost sight of them. 
 They pressed on, thinking that for once they would outstrip 
 us, and so we had to wait for them to come back, as we of 
 course had no way of knowing how far they had gone, nor 
 how soon they would turn back. 
 
 From this spot we had a fine view of the luxuriant coun- 
 try in the midst of which Bologna is situated. We saw the 
 range of mountains we crossed in coming from Florence ; 
 at their feet the country stretched out for miles in a perfect 
 plain, with a little river winding along in the midst of it. It 
 was cultivated to the highest degree, and looked like a rich 
 garden. We could plainly see Modena, at a distance of 
 twenty-three miles, lifting its spires to the sky. After wait- 
 ing two hours for the gentlemen, we got quite tired, and 
 came back to our hotel, but our coachman misunderstanding 
 our orders, came by a circuitous route, so that when we got 
 home we found the truants here before us. They must have 
 come down immediately after we left ; finding no carriage 
 waiting they got home as quickly as possible, while it was 
 light enough for them to see their way. 
 
 And now I once more bid you farewell. 
 
 Febrara, Wednesday evening. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 We left Bologna this morning by half past five. How 
 beautifully the country looks at this early hour, with the dew 
 laying on the long grass and shining like diamonds. The 
 country is perfectly level from Bologna here ; the road is 
 bordered with trees, mostly poplars. A great deal of hemp 
 is raised on these plains, and the number of little ponds used 
 for rotting the hemp serves to create an unwholesome air, 
 
LETTERS. 171 
 
 SO that this district of the country is but thinly inhabited. 
 The few people we did meet, looked pale and thin. They 
 have the queerest looking things for common carriages on 
 this road, I ever saw. It is just like four poles, fastened 
 together in the form of a square, over which is thrown a net- 
 ting of rope. On this netting is fixed a kind of seat, and 
 this is the whole of the vehicle. The shafts are on top of 
 the horse, so that the thing looks all the time as though it 
 were tipping backwards. 
 
 This is quite a large city, but without any pretensions to 
 beauty or elegance. It looks in fact, like what it is, a place 
 that has seen its best days. The houses are dirty, the streets 
 in some places wide, in others narrow, and oftentimes grass- 
 grown. 
 
 We visited the library, which contains (I declare I have 
 forgotten already how many volumes) and in which is the 
 tomb of Ariosto, which would be quite a magnificent affair, 
 were it not built of marble of all colors, which mingled to- 
 gether without any taste, greatly mars the effect. Here is 
 the poet's arm-chair, now moth-eaten, and time-worn. In 
 this chair I sat, though alas! no inspiration came to me, called 
 I never so loudly for it. We saw also his inkstand, which is 
 of iron, with a carved figure on the top of it ; also a medal 
 found in his tomb, on one side of which is his bust, and on 
 the other a serpept, the emblem of eternity. We saw the 
 manuscript of Orlando Furioso, and some letters signed Lu- 
 dovico Ariosto, also some of Tasso's letters and his manu- 
 script of " Jerusalem Delivered." There were many cor- 
 rections in the lines ; the margin was often covered with 
 alterations and suggestions, sometimes a piece of paper cov- 
 ered a whole verse, and another written in its stead. Here 
 too were the manuscript of Guarini's " Pastor Fidus," and 
 the first edition of Orlando Furioso ever published. It 
 was printed early in the sixteenth century, and was purchas- 
 ed by this library for one thousand dollars. I counted more 
 than ten different editions of the same poem, some of which 
 were in foreign languages. 
 
172 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 We then went to the prison of Tasso, a cell beneath the 
 hospital of Sant'Anna. It is several feet under ground, and 
 his at present no window, though at the time the poet was 
 here confined, there was a window that looked upon the 
 street and the Ducal palace, so that occasionally he could 
 catch a glimpse of his fair mistress. It was formerly con- 
 nected with a garden, though there are no remains of it at 
 present seen. On the outside of the cell is an inscription 
 in marble, that here Tasso was confined seven years and 
 three months, though Carter only makes it seven weeks ; on 
 what authority I know not. It certainly must have been 
 longer than that, because he wrote his " Jerusalem Deliv- 
 ered " while in prison. The common story at Ferrara is, 
 that through jealousy on the part of the Duke of Ferrara or 
 the Duchess Eleonora, he was deprived of his liberty, though 
 the ostensible motive was that he was crazy. 
 
 The man that we had for a guide round the city was also 
 guide to Lord Byron when he was here. He says Lord B. 
 spent three hours and a half in the cell, and wrote all the 
 time he was there. He showed us where he carved his 
 name in quite large letters, on one of the pillars at the en- 
 trance. 
 
 The ancient Ducal palace is a large, massy looking edi- 
 fice, surrounded by a wide moat. We did not go inside of 
 the palace, however, but came back to our hotel, and took 
 dinner, after which we strolled out without any particular 
 end in view. We came to the Cathedral, an ancient look- 
 ing edifice of black marble, undoubtedly white in its day, 
 which has long since passed by. The vestibule in front 
 is supported by pillars, which rest upon the shoulders of two 
 fit, hump-backed men, certainly a poor design. Within, 
 near the door, are two well-sculptured marble figures 
 bearing the basins of holy water. The church is rather 
 so-so, the pillars and altars being painted to imitate marble. 
 
 It really makes me feel melancholy to pass through the 
 almost deserted streets of a large city like this, and reflect 
 
LETTERS. 173 
 
 on what it was and what it now is. How is she fallen from 
 the days when Ariosto and Tasso, and Guarini kept their 
 literary court here, when the ducal power was wielded with 
 the pomp and parade that now attends a kingdom ! Now 
 her great men have passed away, and her government, *' the 
 Papa " has assumed upon himself We found in stalls in 
 some of the streets, many rare editions of old writers, but 
 we are already troubled enough with baggage without wish- 
 ing to add to it. I bought two editions of Thomas A. Kem- 
 pis, one published in the sixteenth, and the other in the 
 seventeenth century, and got them both for a mere trifle. 
 
 I have to-day had a recurrence of the sickness that pros- 
 trated me at Terracina, so that I have not had my usual 
 strength to assist me in going about here. After all, I may 
 have seen about all there is to be seen.* We now have to 
 start so early in the mornings, that I am forced to retire a 
 little earlier than I have been accustomed to ; however I 
 seize every moment I get at our stopping places during the 
 day, to write in my journal, so that I may have the early part 
 of the evening to devote to you. Once more, adieu. 
 
 At a little town a few miles from Venice. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 While stopping here for our noon rest, I improve the hour 
 or two we have to stay in writing to you, as there is nothing 
 here particularly worthy of being seen. 
 
 We left Ferrara yesterday morning about six o'clock. For 
 several miles there were still the same level country, the 
 same rich plains of hemp and wheat, the same stagnant pools, 
 the same straight road shaded with trees. Not a mountain, 
 nor even a hill was in sight, a great contrast after crossing 
 the Apennines, where " hills on hills arise." 
 
 Between eight and nine o'clock, we crossed the Po by a 
 15* 
 
174 * LETTERS. 
 
 pont volant, or flying bridge. The river is very v*ide here 
 and has a rapid current. 
 
 Two scows are fastened together side by side, and then 
 covered by a floor of planks, on which our horses and car- 
 riage were placed. Attached to this is a long line of little 
 boats, through which a rope is passed to the head boat. The 
 force of the current swept this round, so that without any 
 wheels or paddles, or apparently any effort on our part, we 
 were soon over. Then we entered the Austrian possessions, 
 and so our passports and keys were once more called for. 
 The trunks however were but lightly looked into, and the 
 passports were pronounced right. As the officer had been 
 so polite and considerate to us, I thought I would be so to 
 him, so having a basket of fine cherries in the carriage, I got 
 it out and handed it to him, asking him in French if he 
 would have some cherries. Instead of taking a few, the 
 great pig took not only all the cherries, but the basket too. 
 This Francesco could not stand, so he walked up to the offi- 
 cer and gently asked him for the basket, which, with many 
 bows, he politely relinquished, taking care however to help 
 himself first to the largest of the cherries. 
 
 We are now using a still different kind of money from any 
 we have yet had. A small piece, something less than a 
 franc, is called a swantwitzer, which Mr. D. after various 
 useless efforts to pronounce, has ended by calling them 
 " agonies." 
 
 For some time our road lay along side of the Po, the banks 
 of which are flat and rather uninteresting. We saw beggars 
 entirely deprived of their legs, lying in wheelbarrows by the 
 side of the road. As soon as they saw the carriage, they 
 began to sing in their loudest tones, to attract attention. 
 One man moved very quickly by jumping along the end of 
 his body and resting on his right hand. Is it not a shame 
 for government to allow such looking objects to be in the 
 public roads? It is said that many parents purposely maim 
 their children while young, that they may be greater objects 
 
LETTERS. 175 
 
 of pity, and so obtain more money by begging. Can ycu 
 believe that human nature is so degraded ? 
 
 Yesterday afternoon we crossed the Adige by another 
 pont volant. All along in this river, mills are moored. Two 
 large boats are fastened together by ropes, but sufficient 
 space is left between for the wheel of the mill, the mill itself 
 being built over the opening between the two boats. The 
 wheel moves by the action of the current, and as the boats 
 rise and fall with the water, the wheel is at all times in a 
 sufficient depth of water. 
 
 From the time we left the Adige till we reached Monselice, 
 where we stopped last night, the road was perfectly straight, 
 and bordered by trees, and the country, though level, was 
 rich with the ripened grain. The reapers were in the fields, 
 both men and women, and here we saw what is so often al- 
 luded to in the Scriptures, the gleaners who go about after 
 the grain is tied up, and pick up the scattered ears. 
 
 The cattle in this part of the country are really beautiful; 
 they are large and strong, and of a clear, milk-white color. 
 It is very common to see cows yoked together and drawing 
 a cart, and very often I have seen a cow, a horse and a don- 
 key, all fastened together. 
 
 Before reaching Monselice, we came in sight of mountains, 
 which seemed to us like seeing old friends. A part of the 
 town is situated on the side of a mountain. 
 
 From Monselice here the country was still pleasant. 
 The road at first ran along by a canal and afterwards by the 
 river Brenta. We passed some beautiful country seats, one 
 belonging to the Viceroy of Austria, having extensive 
 grounds, well laid out. 
 
 But I hear Francesco's voice that the horses are ready, 
 and I must finish this in a hurry ; so good bye. As ever. 
 
176 LETTERS. 
 
 Venice, June 16. 
 My dearest P. : 
 
 What a flood of recollections come thronging to my mind 
 as I record this date — it is my mother's birthday, and 
 though far away, the daughter sends her greeting over land 
 and sea to the loved mother, wishing her many happy re- 
 turns of this day. 
 
 Behold us now in " the city of a hundred isles." Just 
 twelve weeks from the day we left our home, and at about 
 the same hour of the day, we arrived here. How fast the 
 time has sped, and how much we have seen ! 
 
 Before reaching Mestra we passed through some beautiful 
 scenes. The banks of the river were covered with charm- 
 ing villas. Almost all the houses were adorned with sculp- 
 ture, and in many parts of the grounds, we saw statues peep- 
 ing out from among the trees. 
 
 At Mestra we left the carriage and took a boat to this 
 city. The distance was seven miles, and we four and Fran- 
 cesco and all our baggage were brought here in a large boat 
 with four rowers for one dollar ! Soon after leaving Mestra, 
 the canal beoran to branch off here and there, till finally we 
 could see nothing but little islands surrounded by canals. 
 How strange it seemed to be sailing among these little 
 islands ! But when we were actually in Venice, and in the 
 grand canal, it seemed stranger still. And yet I was dis- 
 appointed, and my heart sank within me more and more, as 
 I realized how great was my disappointment. How many 
 times I have resolved that I would form no idea of a place 
 until I had seen it, and yet who could help imagining how 
 Venice would look ? True I pictured out canals, but then 
 I lined them with palaces and fine looking buildings, and 
 laid out at least a sidewalk before each door. The palaces 
 are here with their Gothic arches and fretwork, but they 
 look decayed and neglected, and as for sidewalks, there are 
 none, the water washes the base of every house. When we 
 
LETTERS. 177 
 
 arrived at the hotel d'Europe, and rode, I mean sailed to the 
 very door, and saw not a foot of land around it, vi^e vi^ere 
 well convinced that Venice was not the place it was " crack- 
 ed up to be." This hotel is situated on the bay, which 
 makes it much pleasanter, than being on one of the canals. 
 Our windows look out upon the water, and command a fine 
 view of the islands near and far off. The cries of the gon- 
 doliers, as they dart by in their little boats, reach my ears ; 
 this with the slight rippling of the water is the only 
 sound ; all else is still, no rumbling of carriage wheels, no 
 stamping of horses, no cracking of whips, break in upon 
 the quiet of the scene. It is as though the world was all 
 asleep. How many times since I have sat down to write, 
 have I risen and gone to the window to gaze upon the novel 
 scene. How gently shine the stars, and how beautifully 
 they are reflected in the still waters ! Yet we do not feel 
 at home here. Even the novelty is startling. I look all 
 around and see no walks, and I say " What, can't we even 
 walk out a step 1 Must we get into a boat every time we 
 want to go any where ? " The gentlemen are all complain- 
 ing, " Where is now the morning walk before breakfast, and 
 the evening stroll ? Must they all be given up 1 " Murmurs 
 grew '* loud and deep." All looked blank ; all declared they 
 were glad it was now near the last of the week, as we are 
 to start for Geneva on Monday. We even thought of re- 
 calling Francesco from Mestra, to order him to have the 
 carriage ready before Monday. 
 
 But hark ! what is this 1 A grand discovery has been 
 made. One of our discontented spirits in roaming about 
 and making his observations, has found out that there is a 
 lane, a bona fide land lane at the side of our hotel, and that 
 it leads to the ''Place St. Mark," the central part of the 
 city. How each face has brightened up ! How glibly runs 
 every tongue ! First one and then another goes down to 
 see for himself, as though a piece of land was never seen 
 before. Feet began to be more prized, or as in market 
 
178 LETTERS. 
 
 terms, ** feet had risen," and were looked upon with some 
 degree of complacency, as even in Venice it was found 
 they would be serviceable, and each one eyed his nether 
 extremities with a degree of pleasure seldom before expe- 
 rienced. We felt as though we were indeed independent, 
 and began to look forward with pleasure to a farther ac- 
 quaintance with Venice, once the fair mistress of the sea. 
 Again I have been to the window, and looked out. The 
 scene is the same, and yet it looks brighter and lovelier, 
 and I begin already to love the gentle dashing of the water 
 affainst our hotel, and find music in the cries of the crondo- 
 liers. I will not yet close my letter, until I have something 
 more substantial to tell you about Venice. 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 We have been busy enough to-day I can assure you, in 
 looking around this strange city. We have engaged a car- 
 riage, I mean a gondola, by the day while we are here, 
 so we can be out as much as we please, and at no more 
 expense than though we were out but a few hours at a time. 
 These boats are small and have an awning over the centre 
 where we sit. They are rowed by two men, who every 
 time they turn a corner utter a peculiar sound, which is to 
 give warning that they are coming from such a side of the 
 canal. Each boatman is compelled to give this sign, other- 
 wise if any accident occurs from the boats thus coming in 
 contact, he is liable to be fined, as the cause of the acci- 
 dent. 
 
 We first sailed a little way along the bay and reached the 
 Church of St. George. We stepped from our little boat at 
 once into the very entrance of the church ; so choice are 
 they of the land here that the buildings are erected on the 
 very margin of the little islarfds; nay in many cases they 
 are built upon piles driven into the mud and shallow places. 
 The Church of St. George was designed by Palladio, a cele- 
 brated Italian architect, and is a chaste and beautiful edifice. 
 
LETTERS. 179 
 
 The ceiling is supported by square pillars, the floor is paved 
 with red and white marble, and is very neat. There are 
 no showy ornaments, no redundancy of paintings and sculp- 
 ture, but every thing is simple yet elegant. The seats of 
 the priests, arranged in a semicircular form back of the altar, 
 are of oak carved in the richest manner, representing scenes 
 in the life of St. Benedict. 
 
 Once more in our light, little bark, we glided over the 
 waters, and reached the " Church of the Redeemer" be- 
 longing to the Capuchin monks. It was also designed by 
 Palladio, and is a very fine church. It is without any side 
 chapels at all. The high altar is of white marble, and is 
 beautifully adorned with bas-reliefs representing Christ 
 being taken from the cross. It is the most perfect thing of 
 the kind I ever saw. The head of the crucified one falls 
 upon his shoulders, the hands drop by his side, and the 
 whole appearance is of one in the cold embrace of death. 
 The persons engaged in taking Him down, and the group 
 at the foot of the cross, are admirably done. 
 
 Behind the altar in a small chapel, we heard chanting ; 
 we peeped in and saw several Capuchins kneeling, and ap- 
 parently perfectly absorbed in their devotions. We went 
 into the sacristy by a narrow passage, along which were 
 private confessionals, or little boxes within which sits a 
 priest, and before him kneels the one confessing his sins. 
 In the sacristy are three good pictures by Ballini, the mas- 
 ter of Titian. Here in ^^ax are the heads of several Capu- 
 chins, who have been sent out to different countries as 
 missionaries ; some of the faces are very fine. While we 
 were there, a priest came in, who had been officiating in 
 the chapel. As he took off the different parts of his robe, 
 he devoutly kissed each piece, his lips moving all the time, 
 as he decently laid each part in its respective place. He 
 did not seem to notice us at all. 
 
 We then came back across the bay, and entered the 
 grand canal, which runs through the city in the form of the 
 
180 LETTERS. 
 
 letter S. I may as well tell you now while I think of it, 
 that Venice is built on seventy-two islands, while in the bay 
 and around it are forty-two more. One hundred and fifty 
 different canals wind round among these islands, spanned 
 by many arched bridges. You can form no idea how 
 strange it seems to us to be sailing about in the midst of a 
 city, where we see no streets, but canals intersecting each 
 other in every direction. 
 
 We visited the Ballini collection of paintings. It belongs 
 to a rich merchant, who, when he hears of a good painting 
 to be sold, never sleeps till he has added it to his collection. 
 Here were some really beautiful pictures ; in fact, I saw 
 only one or two that were not gems. An exquisite head by 
 Coreggio, two or three landscapes by Caracci, a splendid 
 Madonna and child by Sassoferato, a Virgin by the same, 
 one of Titian's celebrated Magdalens, well deserving all the 
 praise ever bestowed upon it, a portrait by Giorgione, the 
 rival of Titian, an expressive picture by one of the finest 
 painters. Carlo Dolci ; these are a few among the gems there 
 collected. 
 
 We stopped at the bridge Rialto, so often mentioned by 
 Shakspeare in his *' Merchant of Venice," where we left our 
 gondola a little while. Notwithstanding that in sailing along 
 the principal canals, there is no appearance of walks and 
 passages, yet there are little lanes and by-ways, and by pass- 
 ing through these, and crossing some of the little bridges, 
 one can actually walk from one epd of Venice to the other. 
 The Rialto is a covered bridge, and has shops on either side, 
 so that it seems like walking through a street, rather than 
 over a bridge. 
 
 We have the largest number at our dinner table that we 
 have seen at any hotel in Italy, and a motley set it is too. 
 At the head of the table sits a party of Russians, and such an 
 outlandish jargon as they speak, I never before heard. It 
 seems as though they have to work out with their jaws each 
 word they speak. Then come we Americans. On the op- 
 
LETTERS. 181 
 
 posite side are an English and a Scotch family ; then come 
 French, Italians, Germans, and I do not know how many 
 other nations at the lower end of the table. But you should 
 look in upon us after we are all seated and engaged in con- 
 versation. It is quite enough to turn one's head to hear the 
 confusion of tongues. The waiters speak French, so that 
 the Russians, English, Scotch and Americans, use that lan- 
 guage as a medium of communication with them. The hotel 
 here is an excellent one, and you have the very best attend- 
 ance. 
 
 After dinner we strolled out, I should say sailed; but I 
 really have been so long on land, that it is almost impossible 
 to forget land terms when speaking of going about. We 
 sailed across the harbor to an island, on which is an Arme- 
 nian convent, where Lord Byron studied the Armenian lan- 
 guage for three months. His tutor still lives here, a fine 
 looking old priest, with a IcAg white beard, and bright black 
 eyes. He speaks English very fluently, and was very polite 
 to us, showing us round the convent, where we found every 
 thing in the nicest and neatest order. There are two libra- 
 ries; the oriental, in which are only manuscripts; the 
 other consists of English, Latin, Greek and French books. 
 We saw the printing press, at which twelve boys were at 
 work. They have types for twenty-four different languages. 
 In fact, we bought a book printed in as many different 
 tongues. There are one hundred and fifty monks here, and 
 they generally have quite a number of boys under their tui- 
 tion. It is one hundred and twenty-four years since this 
 convent was first established upon the island. The priest 
 seemed very proud of having had the honor of being tutor to 
 Lord Byron. He showed us his autograph, and said he had 
 been offered large sums of money for it, but that nothing 
 would induce him to part with it. 
 
 As we came home the sun was setting, and the bells were 
 ringing, (for every where in Italy the bells ring at sunset,) 
 and the sound came softly and gently across the waters, and 
 16 
 
182 LETTERS. 
 
 the golden beams of the sun still played over the fair bay, 
 dotted with its numerous islands, as though all unwilling to 
 leave so sweet a scene. The sunsets here are beautiful, yet 
 I think I have seen them quite as beautiful in my own land ; 
 but in this city every thing has such a peculiar charm from 
 its novelty. As I lay back this evening in our little gondola, 
 which floated so gracefully over the bay, how did my thoughts 
 fiy to my dear home far across the waters, while the soft 
 twilight came on, bringing with it that dreamy, melancholy 
 sensation, so appropriate to the hour. 
 
 Again it is evening, and all alone in my room I have sat 
 and looked out upon the star-lit bay. I hear but the gentle 
 rippling of the water, and occasionally the clear tones of a 
 gondolier. I can hardly realize that I am in a city where 
 are congregated one hundred thousand people, so perfect is 
 the stillness that here reigns. 
 
 But what a long letter I hare written ; so, without any 
 compliments, I say at once, good night. 
 
 VekicEj Saturday eve. 
 Mv DEAR Friend : 
 
 Still are we engaged in sight-seeing, and the more we see 
 of Venice the better we like it. There is an air of melan- 
 choly grandeur about its old and decaying palaces. There 
 is a romance in gliding through its little canals, and under 
 its narrow bridges, and in speeding over its placid bay, that 
 appeal strongly to our feelings ; and notwithstanding our first 
 sombre impressions, we feel now that we would not on any 
 account, have missed seeing Venice. 
 
 Yesterday morning we went to the Palace of the Doges. 
 Here, in the palmy days of the Venetian republic, they held 
 their almost regal court, and the " Doge of Venice " was 
 looked upon as the head of the state, the head of the church. 
 
LETTERS. 183 
 
 the master mind that moved all things ! How different now is 
 every thing ! Venice lives but in name ; her government is 
 taken from her own shoulders ; her wealth, her trade have 
 departed ; nought is left but the monuments of her past great- 
 ness. Who does not sigh over Venice, that once sat in queen- 
 ly majesty as mistress of the sea, now left to desolation and 
 decay ? 
 
 The Palace of the Doges fronts the bay, and presents a 
 fine appearance. Its architecture is very singular, or at least 
 it seems singular to us, who have seen so little of this mix- 
 ture of Moorish and Gothic styles, and yet 1 like it much ; 
 and often as I glide by in our little gondola, I turn again 
 and again to look upon it, that its every feature may be 
 deeply impressed upon my memory. The lower story rests 
 upon arches ; just above is light open fretwork, and many 
 small pillars; and still higher up, the exterior is plain, with 
 three large Gothic windows, having circular panes of glass, 
 so that the most fragile part of the building is below, while 
 the heaviest part is above, and seems far too massy and solid 
 to rest upon so apparently slight a foundation. The whole is 
 of marble, originally white, but now so discolored by time and 
 the dampness arising from the water, as to look quite black. 
 
 In the court are two large wells, the curbs of which are 
 of bronze, well sculptured. There are openings in the 
 ground into which rain water is carried by means of pipes ; 
 it then passes through sand before reaching the well, and thus 
 becomes filtered. From these wells all the water used in 
 Venice is taken, and we saw many women with their kettles 
 and pails, drawing water to take to their homes. 
 
 From the court a wide staircase leads to the upper story. 
 This is called the grand staircase, at the top of which the 
 Doges were crowned in the sight of all the people assembled 
 in the court below, and it was near this spot that one of their 
 number was beheaded, because it was thought that he was 
 engaged in a conspiracy against the State. At the head of 
 the staircase commences the gallery, the walls of which are 
 
184 LETTERS. 
 
 covered with pictures, by artists of the Venetian school, the 
 principal of which are Titian, Tintoretto, Paul Veronese and 
 Bassano. The most of these paintings represent different 
 scenes in the history of Venice. One of these, by Titian, is 
 the largest picture I ever saw; it covers the whole of the 
 wall at one end of the gallery. The ceiling, too, is covered 
 with pictures, each one encased in a massive gilt frame. 
 Occasionally there is a bare spot on the walls, and the guide 
 will point to it, and tell you in a saddened tone, that a fine 
 picture was there once, but that it was carried away by Na- 
 poleon, and had never been restored. Ah, that Napoleon ! 
 He despoiled many cities, to add to the beauty of his own 
 charming Paris. 
 
 In the third story are rooms, rendered more or less inter- 
 esting to us by their associations. In one the Doges received 
 the ambassadors from foreign powers; in another sat the 
 Senate; in a third the "Council of Ten" met; and still 
 another was used for the horrid purposes of that wdcked In- 
 quisition. In the ante-room to this last, w^as an opening in 
 the wall, into which accusations against individuals were 
 put. In the inside it was covered by a little door, having 
 two locks ; one key was in the possession of one member of 
 the Inquisition, and the other of another, so that it could not 
 be opened, nor any accusation read, save by the two. This 
 was doubtless to give the appearance of impartiality to the 
 proceeding. The floor of this room is of black and white 
 marble, and the ceiling is painted, and remains as in former 
 days. One picture represents " Virtue driving away Vice," 
 appropriate surely for the place where virtue, of all things in 
 the world, was the least practised. The walls have now a 
 new finish ; they were formerly hung with black, fit emblem 
 for a room where deeds of the foulest blackness were sanc- 
 tioned. From this room there was a secret passage leading 
 to " the Bridge of Sighs," which connects the prison with 
 the palace, separated by a narrow canal. By this way pris- 
 oners were brought to the Inquisition, tried and condemned, 
 
LETTERS. 185 
 
 and by another secret passage led to the dungeons below, 
 and never heard of more. 
 
 We went down into those dungeons, and even now my 
 spirit shudders at the tales of horror and blood there told, 
 and I cannot help occasionally glancing around my own 
 comfortable room, to dispel the illusion that I am not now in 
 those damp and dreary cells. These dungeons are not, how- 
 ever, under ground, or more properly speaking, below the 
 level of the water. The upper range has windows opening 
 into the passages around the cells, but no light from without 
 is admitted. Dreary and dark they were, and chilling to the 
 spirit. 
 
 Beneath these is still another story ; the cells are small, 
 floored with stone, having a little wooden platform for a bed. 
 All the light that found its way here was from a candle kept 
 burning in the passage leading to the cells. 
 
 At the end of one of these passages, was a room where 
 prisoners were strangled to death. A cord was put round the 
 neck of the condemned one, passed through the door, and 
 fastened on the outside to a small wheel, which, when turn- 
 ed, drew the cord tighter and still tighter, till life was extinct. 
 In one part of the room there was a hole in the floor to carry 
 off the blood of those there killed, and out of the room was a 
 secret door leading to the canal, through which the bodies of 
 the dead were carried at night, and thrown into the water. 
 What awful scenes were there enacted! And yet to the 
 credit of the Venetians, be it said, that they knew nothing of 
 these things. It was not till the French took possession of 
 this city, that these dungeons and bloody appurtenances 
 were brought to light. Had it been known, may we not 
 hope, for the credit of human nature, that the common peo- 
 ple would have risen up with the power of a giant, and burst 
 the shackles imposed upon them by their superiors, and put 
 an end to this reign of terror 1 In one of the dungeons a 
 man was found imprisoned, who had been there fourteen 
 years, for murdering his brother who was a priest. He shot 
 16* 
 
186 LETTERS. 
 
 him while performing mass at the altar of a church. Soon 
 after he was set at liberty he became totally blind, from the 
 eiTects of the light upon eyes so long accustomed to dark- 
 ness. 
 
 On the walls of these cells were many sentences engraved 
 by the prisoners. Two or three of them, as translated by 
 our " valet de place," I give to you. " Do not trust to any 
 body ; think, and hold your tongue, if you want to escape 
 from spies insidious." " To complain, to repent, is of no 
 use, but give always a proof of your valor." " To whom I 
 trust, God, He will take care of me ; to whom I do not 
 trust, I take care of myself." " Little .speaking and prompt- 
 ly denying, and think to the end, cannot spare the life to us, 
 poor unhappy creatures." I put these down as given in 
 Moses' imperfect English, but they are an exact translation 
 of the original. 
 
 We then " stood upon the Bridge of Sighs." Well has it 
 been thus named, for here the poor unfortunates passed from 
 their prisons to the Inquisition, from whose fangs they well 
 knew there was no escape. Many were the " sighs" here 
 heaved, as the past rose up before them, and the dread future 
 that awaited them. It is a narrow, covered bridge ; all the 
 light comes from two strongly grated windows. This pas- 
 sage is now closed up, and it is only by special permission, 
 and an extra fee, that one can gain admission to it. 
 
 Our next course was to the Palace Barberigo, where 
 Titian died. This palace is embellished by some fine pic- 
 tures, many of which were by Titian. Here is another of 
 his Magdalens; she is on her knees, her hands clasped, and 
 her eyes, swollen with weeping, are raised to Heaven. Her 
 dress is disordered, and her hair falls in negligence over her 
 breast. The whole bears the appearance of bitter penitence, 
 and soul-harrowing remorse. It is a magnificent work of 
 art. It was a natural step for us from the place where this 
 great artist died to that where he lies buried, which is in 
 the church of the Franciscans. A plain slab on the floor 
 
LETTERS. 187 
 
 records the fact. The inscription translated into Eno-lish, 
 is, " Here lies the great Titian, the rival of Zeuxis and 
 Apelles." Canova designed a monument for Titian's burial- 
 place, but there not being funds sufficient raised for its 
 erection, after his own death, that design was carried into 
 execution by his pupils, and now adorns his own tomb. 
 The monument is of white marble, in a pyramidal form. 
 At the entrance to the pyramid, stands a figure representinor 
 Europe, holding a torch in her hand. This refers to the 
 fact that different countries in Europe gave money toward 
 the erection of the monument. Opposite to her is a winged 
 lion, representing Venice, that being her coat of arms. 
 Back of the lion on the steps, sits another figure intended 
 for the genius of Canova. This is splendidly sculptured, the 
 drapery hanging down over the steps, on which lie a wreath 
 of laurel, and the different tools used in sculpture, all cut 
 from one piece of marble. Behind Europe stand two figures 
 linked arm in arm, bearing a wreath of flowers to deck the 
 artist's tomb, while back of these are still other figures, 
 each bearing a torch in its hand. These last are in the 
 act of ascending the steps, and the attitude, one foot being 
 raised on the step above, is full of grace. The whole is 
 admirably done, and the monument is greatly admired, but 
 in my humble opinion, (worth nothing, to be sure to any one 
 but myself,) there are too many figures. 
 
 Near this church is a hall called " the School of St. Roc- 
 co," where Tintoretto painted thirty years. Here are many 
 of his pictures, but they are so dark, and many of them so 
 high up on the walls, and the light in the room is so poor, 
 that they are not seen to good advantage. Tintoretto is 
 inferior in coloring and in graphic expression to Titian. 
 Perhaps both of them painted too many pictures to become 
 perfect finishers. 
 
 In the afternoon our little bark once more flew across the 
 bay, and we landed on the island where are the glass manu- 
 factories. Nearly all the people on this island, and I think 
 
188 LETTERS. 
 
 there are about three thousand inhabitants, are in sonrie way 
 connected with these manufactories. Of the ordinary glass 
 works I shall say nrthing, because you can now see them 
 in almost every city at home ; but we were much interested 
 in seeing all the operations connected with the manufacture 
 of beads, and as this may be as novel to you as it was to us, 
 I shall venture to give you the details. We first saw them 
 blowing the glass. It was blown out the size of a tumbler, 
 with a hole running through the middle of it, and while I 
 was thinking what amazing large beads that would make, 
 two workmen suddenly caught the ends of it with tongs and 
 ran with it, one one way, and the other another, till it was 
 two or three hundred feet long, and as small round as a 
 little wire. By breaking off a piece from the middle, we 
 saw that the hole ran through the entire length. This wa 
 the first stage. In another room these glass wires were as 
 sorted ; they are of different sizes, but by just passing them 
 through the hand, it can be told in a moment by those ac 
 customed to the work, what size they are, and they are 
 arranged accordingly. This part is done chiefly by women. 
 Then comes the cutting them up into beads, A man takes 
 a dozen or so of these long pieces in his hand, lays them 
 on a sort of machine with a sharp edge, and cuts them with 
 a chisel, a little bag being fastened to the machine to catch 
 them as they fall. Behold the second stage. Afterwards 
 they are put into a sieve, when the broken ones and small 
 pieces fall through, the perfect ones remaining in the sieve. 
 But the ends of the bead are round, and see, these are ' 
 square ; how is this remedied 1 We go into another room, 
 and see how this difficulty is solved. Over a furnace is an 
 iron kettle, in which is a mixture of lime and sand, into 
 which the beads are put, and gently shaken round and 
 round ; the heat and the friction wear off the square edges, 
 and after another sifting they come out perfect in shape. 
 Then they are put in dry sand into a bag and well shaken, 
 and thus they are polished and the holes cleared from sand. 
 
LETTERS. 189 
 
 Finally they are put on a sloping piece of wood and gently 
 shaken, so that those that are round slip off, while those 
 that are not, and consequently imperfect, remain, and thus 
 is the bead finished. The process of coloring we were not 
 allowed to see, as it is a secret, and I suppose they were 
 afraid we might steal their trade. We were exceedingly 
 interested in all that we saw, and the work-people allowed 
 us to look at and to handle the beads as much as we chose. 
 Nay they gave us several long pieces of different colors and 
 sizes. 
 
 This is one of the largest bead manufactories in the world; 
 and while other trades have been taken from Venice to dif- 
 ferent countries, this has remained, as exclusively her own. 
 It belongs to one individual, who employs in the establish- 
 ment about two hundred workmen. The women and the 
 children in the town string the beads, and make them into 
 aprons, purses, necklaces, bags, shawls, and such ornaments. 
 Then men are employed in packing them and sending them 
 off, so that, as I said before, nearly all the inhabitants are 
 supported by this manufactory. 
 
 Last evening we took a walk ; yes, a real walk, and not a 
 sail, for there is a passage back of our hotel, leading to the 
 " Place St. Mark," the principal promenade in the city. 
 Still it seems queer to us, even when walking ourselves, not 
 to see any horses and carriages. There is not a horse in the 
 city of Venice. I believe a few of the upper class own 
 horses, but they are kept in the suburbs, or on some of the 
 large islands, and so when wanted for use, the owners go 
 there and ride. 
 
 At the upper end of the Place St. Mark, or as it is called 
 here, ''Piazza," stands the Church of St. Mark, an ancient 
 and magnificent church, built in a mixture of the Gothic, 
 Grecian and Saracenic styles. The front rises up in five 
 separate arches, each arch having an entrance into the 
 church, and crowned with a light tapering spire. Besides 
 all these spires, there are four large domes. Over the middle 
 
190 LETTERS. 
 
 arch are four horses, which, aUhough of brass, have been great 
 travellers. They journeyed in the first place, from Corinth 
 to Rome, where they remained till the seat of government 
 was removed to Constantinople, and then they went thither. 
 But when Constantinople was taken by the Venetians, the 
 horses were led to Venice as trophies of war. No sooner 
 had the French conquered Venice, however, than the famous 
 horses were once more on the move, and this time they went 
 to Paris. They sojourned there but a little time, for after 
 Napoleon's short reign was over, they were restored with 
 many other works of art that had been plundered. So much 
 for the horses. Is it wonderful that the Venetians think so 
 much of them, when we consider not only their history, but 
 also the fact, that they serve to give an idea to that class of 
 people who never leave their island home, of how real horses 
 look? 
 
 In front of the church are planted three flag-staffs, borne 
 away as tokens of victory, from Cyprus, Candia and Morea. 
 Near them is the Campanile, in which are the bells of the 
 church. It is built of Grecian marble, and is square, running 
 up, however, into a pretty spire. On either side of the 
 "piazza" is a large palace, the lower story forming a colon- 
 nade. Here are the finest shops and cafes in Venice, and at 
 night, when brilliantly illuminated, and the whole piazza is 
 crowded with belles and beaux, and other living creatures, 
 not included in these two classes, quite a lively picture is 
 presented. Here we take our evening stroll, and here we 
 have been regaled with some of the finest music from the 
 military band I ever heard. 
 
 This morning we went over to the Arsenal, which occu- 
 pies an island nearly three miles in circumference. The 
 principal entrance is guarded by the winged lion of Venice, 
 two lions in white marble, taken from Athens, and two 
 lionesses brought from Corinth. Two large halls are filled 
 with ancient armor and weapons of warfare, the most of 
 which have some interesting historical associations. There 
 
LETTERS. 191 
 
 was the armor of the three knights who bore away the flag- 
 staffs now in the Piazza St, Mark ; likewise the armor of 
 Henry IV. of France, and of a knight on horseback ; and as 
 for helmets, shields, breastplates, swords, guns, pistols, cross- 
 bows, and poisoned arrows, it seemed to me there was no 
 end to them. A great curiosity to us was the long, two- 
 handed swords ; they seemed too heavy to be wielded with 
 much dexterity. Then there were machines for throwing 
 bombs into a city or besieged place, and in fact, every kind 
 of weapon and machine ever used in war. There were a 
 shield and breastplate of gold, ornamented with figures of 
 silver in bas-reliefs, which once belonged to Dandala, a cele- 
 brated Venetian General. A large Turkish flag hung in one 
 part of the hall. It was taken at the battle of Lepanto, and 
 has in the centre the motto, " There is but one God, and 
 Mahomet is his servant." 
 
 But most of all were we interested, and yet it was a melan- 
 choly interest, in some instruments of torture taken from the 
 Inquisition. One was a species of armor, which was placed 
 upon the person questioned, and if he did not answer the 
 questions put to him, he was pricked with sharp iron needles 
 through openings in the head and back of .this coat of mail. 
 There were also a collar for the neck, which could be pressed 
 together, till the individual wearing it was strangled to death, 
 and a thumb-screw, in which two or three fingers were 
 screwed up till they were broken. No marvel that many 
 confessed themselves guilty of crimes they never committed, 
 rather than to bear such torture as was often inflicted upon 
 them. 
 
 In a glass case were other instruments like these, which 
 formerly belonged to Francis of Carrara, Lord of Padua, at 
 least that is the name as I understand it from our guide. 
 There was a little key, which had a poisoned needle within 
 it. This he always carried about with him, and if any one 
 said any thing to him, or even looked at him in a way he liked 
 not, he would touch the spring in the key, and so send the 
 
192 LETTERS. 
 
 needle into the offender's flesh, which soon produced death. 
 I think I should have kept at a goodly distance from such a 
 touch-me-not as he was. Then there was a box of jewels, 
 the history of which is as follows. Cruel as he was, it seems 
 he was susceptible of the tender passion, for he fell in love 
 with a noble lady, who, however, would not receive his ad- 
 dresses. He sent this box to soften the fair damsel's heart, 
 but one of her attendants had the curiosity to open it before 
 giving it to her mistress. No sooner had she raised the lid, 
 than four little pistols, concealed within, went off, causing 
 her death. Well was it for the mistress, that the maid was 
 imbued with a goodly portion of the curiosity of our mother 
 Eve. 
 
 On the same island is the navy-yard. Here in the proud- 
 est days of Venice, seven thousand men were employed at 
 one time ; now alas ! for the change, there are but four hun- 
 dred. Two or three frigates and a few small boats are now 
 being built. In one room were models of different ships 
 and different parts of ships. There was the ship that was 
 victorious in the battle of Lepanto. It has three masts and 
 latine sails, and fifty-two oars, there having been five men 
 stationed at each joar. There was the model of the Bucen- 
 taur, the barge from which the Doge used to perform the 
 ancient ceremony of wedding Venice to the sea. The ex- 
 terior was gilded, the deck was paved with mosaics, the 
 awning was of crimson velvet, and the oars too were gilded. 
 There were forty-six oars, and five men at each oar. Under 
 a canopy of velvet, on a chair covered with the same, sat 
 the Doge, and through a little window in the back of his 
 chair, he threw the ring into the Adriatic, and thus made 
 Venice the bride of the sea. Parts of the former Bucen- 
 taur are preserved as relics of the past. 
 
 In one part of this room, a monument has been erected 
 to the memory of Angelo Erao, the last of the Venetian 
 admirals. It is a pillar of marble, surmounted by a bust of 
 the hero. An angel is hovering over him holding a crown 
 
LETTERS. 193 
 
 in his hand, as if about to place it on his head. Another is 
 kneeling before the pillar with a pen in his hand, with 
 which he is writing him " the immortal." Behind this 
 angel is a small raft carved in marble. I asked what that 
 meant ; for I did not know but that it was intended to signify 
 the way by which he was carried to heaven, but I found 
 it alluded to a scene in his life. While engaged in a war- 
 like expedition, he was wrecked. From the masts and 
 planks of his shattered vessel he built a raft, and on this 
 raft went before Tunis, besieged it and took it. This monu- 
 ment was by Canova. In other parts of this room were 
 four large pieces of carved wood, depicting quite fully the 
 history of the raft. 
 
 As we walked round these places, we met galley-slaves 
 in chains, engaged in work. Some of them brought us 
 little articles made of beads, on which they are permitted to 
 work in their leisure hours. The money they get for them, 
 is given into the keeper's hands, who allows them in return 
 some little luxury, such as food of a quality superior to what 
 they generally have, and sometimes a little wine to gladden 
 their sad hours. The clanking of their chains sounded 
 dolefully in my ears, and I could not refrain from buying 
 some of their toys, that I might lighten a little the dreari- 
 ness of their imprisonment. 
 
 Again to our little bark. We stopped at the Church of 
 St. John and St. Paul, on the outside of which are the sar- 
 cophagi of the four Doges who died an unnatural death. 
 In the interior twenty-two are butied. Some of the monu- 
 ments are very rich ; on one I counted twenty-five figures, 
 nearly all of them as " large as life." In one of the chapels 
 is some of the most beautiful sculpture I ever saw. I was 
 completely fascinated by it. It is a series of marble slabs, 
 covering the lower part of the walls, each slab being some 
 scene in the life of Christ. The figures stand out in bold 
 relief. I can mention but one or two of the scenes, just to 
 give you an idea of the whole. One is the birth of " the 
 17 
 
194 LETTERS. 
 
 holy child," and the shepherds are seen following the star 
 that would lead them to the Messiah. The thatched roof 
 of the house where Mary and the infant Jesus were, is ad- 
 mirably done. Then there are the wise men presenting 
 their gifts ; one king is kneeling before the infant Saviour, 
 while just behind him is another bearing a vessel of spices, 
 and he is followed by a servant holding his train. Behind 
 Mary, who holds the child, is a group apparently of lookers- 
 on, and they are so perfectly executed as to awaken our 
 unqualified admiration. One is looking from behind a tree, 
 and one, an old man, is leaning on the shoulder of another. 
 I do not know when I have been so " carried away " with any 
 thing as I have with this beautiful specimen of art. I ac- 
 tually sat down before each scene, and would have been 
 content to have staid there the rest of the day, had I not 
 been repeatedly warned that it was time to leave. 
 
 We visited the Church of the Jesuits, the interior of which 
 is finished in a very neat and beautiful style. In fact the 
 greater part of the churches in Venice are perfect models 
 of elegant simplicity. In this church the upper part of the 
 walls are covered with verd-antique and white marble, so 
 arranged as to resemble curtains. It is really beautiful. 
 The pulpit is decorated in the same manner. The pillars 
 near the high altar are of verd-antique twisted. 
 
 We stopped at the Piazza St. Mark, and sent home our 
 o-cndola. We went into one of the cafes and got a lunch, 
 improving the time while we were resting and eating, in 
 reading the newspapers. • Galignani's paper is taken at 
 almost all these cafes. It is printed in Paris, but in English, 
 and generally has a short sprinkling of American news 
 in it. 
 
 We then gave a few hours to " old St. Mark's." I have 
 before spoken of the exterior of this church, let us now go 
 within. It is an ancient church, having been begun about 
 977, and finished in the year 1071. Although built on three 
 hundred solid piles, the floor has settled so much that its 
 
LETTERS. 195 
 
 unevenaess resembles the waves of the sea. It is really 
 unpleasant walking upon it, for if one is engaged looking 
 about as he walks along, he sometimes finds one foot some 
 ways below the other, or he is suddenly " brought up all 
 standing," with quite a hill before him. 
 
 The high altar, under which repose the relics of St. Mark, 
 is adorned with four pillars of white marble, brought from 
 the temple of St. Sophia, at Constantinople. Another altar 
 is surrounded by eight pillars, brought from Solomon's Tem- 
 ple, (so said), two of which are of oriental alabaster, and 
 are so transparent, that a light placed behind them really 
 illuminates them. Two others are of African alabaster, 
 and the other four are of verd-antique. 
 
 In a little room, called the treasury, is an altar-piece of 
 gold and precious stones, the richest thing of the kind I 
 ever saw. It is ten feet long and eight feet high, and is 
 placed front of the high altar on great festivals. It has 
 already cost five million dollars! It is of pure, solid gold, 
 and not a common stone appears on its surface, nothing but 
 what is costly and rare. It was greatly despoiled by Napo- 
 leon, who carried away many of the most precious stones ; 
 some he rejected as not worthy of notice, so that we were 
 told, that after his departure, stones worth twelve thousand 
 dollars were found in one corner of the room. There were 
 also many other rich things in the treasury, among which 
 were some splendid candelabras of silver gilt, and a sceptre of 
 gold set with precious stones, belonging to the Emperor of 
 Austria. We entered the treasury, and looked at these 
 things at our leisure ; we were obliged, however, to pay an 
 extra fee for it. Others less favored than we, stood at the 
 grated window of the room, looking with longing, eager 
 eyes, upon the " gewgaws " there displayed. As we came 
 out we were beset by beggars, old and young, men and 
 women, some looking lean and haggard, others well and 
 hearty ; but I had one answer for them all, that they should go 
 to their priests and demand some of the money deposited in 
 
196 LETTERS. 
 
 their hands, that would otherwise be spent in purchasing 
 trinkets for adorning these altars, already overladen with 
 ornaments. But I verily believe some of them would rather 
 starve, than see a picture or ornament taken from their 
 churches. Not that I am by any means against hand- 
 some churches, not that I think that the house, consecrated 
 to the service of the living God, should be poor and mean, 
 while our own habitations abound with wealth and luxury. 
 No ; I have enjoyed far too many delights in visiting these 
 churches, to wish to see more common edifices taking their 
 places; but it certainly does not add to the architectural 
 beauties of a church to see them tricked out with finery and 
 trinkets of silver and gold. Let the money expended on 
 these be distributed among the poor, in giving them trades 
 and employments, and how much more glory would it be 
 for such nations, than to have it said that they had among 
 them churches rich in silver, and gold, and precious stones. 
 
 In one of the chapels in St. Mark's, is a piece of the very 
 rock from which the water gushed out at the touch of 
 Moses' rod ! Oh, wondrous thing ! Oh, sacred rock ! Oh, 
 miracle of miracles, that thou shouldst be here ! Who will 
 dare doubt ? 
 
 After dinner to-day we started to go to Lido, an island two 
 or three miles from Venice, on which there is a fine beach, 
 so that many of the Venetians keep horses there, that they 
 may enjoy the luxury of riding, but it began to rain, and 
 our boatmen did not think it safe to venture outside of the 
 harbor, as the skies looked threatening, so we went no far- 
 ther than the island on which are the public gardens laid 
 out by Napoleon. This part of the island was once covered 
 with buildings, among which was a convent, but at the word 
 of the mighty conqueror, they disappeared, and a handsome 
 garden, or rather park, appeared in their stead. The walks 
 are broad, and shaded with fine trees. A few horses are 
 kept here and let by the hour, and in pleasant weather, and 
 on holidays, numbers resort here from the city to engage in 
 
LETTERS. 197 
 
 this, to them, novel recreation. There are little windino- 
 walks among the trees, and seats arranged in picturesque 
 spots, and we spent a pleasant hour in rambling around, 
 although the rain occasionally fell. But what care we, trav- 
 ellers in homely guise, for the rain 1 
 
 On the margin of the island is quite a little village, and 
 wonder of wonders ! in this village is a street, a real street, 
 not a walk like the passages in Venice, but an actual street, 
 and it is shown to you as one of the curiosities of the 
 place. 
 
 Rapidly sped we on our way home. The usually placid 
 bosom of the bay was a little ruffled, dark clouds hovered 
 around the horizon, but suddenly from their midst, out 
 shone the setting sun, lighting up with its last beams the 
 spires and domes of St. Mark's and the gorgeous palace of 
 the Doges, and the time-honored, weather-stained edifices 
 of the city of the sea. 
 
 Once more I am in my quiet room. The deep shadows 
 of midnight lie over the waters. Even the dashina of oars 
 and the songs of the boatmen are heard no more. I turn 
 my eyes toward the quarter of the world where lies my own 
 home, and I wonder what all the dear ones there are busy 
 about. With you it is about the sunset hour, and 1 f:mcy 
 I see you all engaged in drawing to a close the occupations 
 of the week, that you may be prepared for the holy day, and 
 my lips breathe forth a low prayer, that we all may be 
 spared to meet once more on earth. Again, adieu. 
 
 Monday morning. 
 
 I have arisen early this morning to finish this letter, that 
 I may leave it here to be forwarded to Paris. In an hour or 
 two we leave Venice, probably forever, for it is exceedingly 
 doubtful, ** amid all the changes and chances of this mortal 
 life," whether we ever see this city again. 
 
 We yesterday morning attended service in the house of the 
 English consul on the grand canal. None of these chapels 
 17* 
 
198 LETTERS. 
 
 are ever open but once on Sunday. When we went in we dis- 
 missed our gondola, and so we walked home through a narrow 
 passage leading to the Piazza St. Mark, and thence to our 
 hotel. We found the " piazza" crowded with fashionables of 
 both sexes. The ladies here are much finer looking than I 
 have seen elsewhere, not even excepting Florence. They 
 dress gaily and handsomely, but with more style than modesty, 
 for many appear in the public promenade, wearing dresses 
 quite low in the neck, covering them only with a thin, light 
 scarf. 
 
 We stopped a few minutes in the Church of St. Mark, 
 where we saw many people at their devotions. Devotions ! 
 do I say 1 Ah ! it bears little the appearance of devotion, to 
 see females kneeling in a church, all the while whispering 
 and laughing. Oh ! my soul is pained to witness such 
 things, and I long to take the deluded ones by the hand, and 
 point them to a purer faith. 
 
 I rarely see any thing going on in any of these churches 
 that seems like preaching. Their ordinary servic3 is the 
 mass. There are two pulpits in St. Mark's, one on each 
 side of the high altar. They are of porphyry, supported 
 by pillars of precious marbles, brought from the Church of 
 St. Sophia, at Constantinople. 
 
 Strange ending of the Sabbath day ! yesterday there was 
 a boat race. The scene took place directly in front of our 
 hotel, so we could not help seeing all that was going on. It 
 commenced at six, but as early as five, the street, — ah, I for- 
 get, I mean the canal, — was full of boats filled with gay 
 people. 
 
 The windows of all the houses near were hung with 
 pieces of damask and tapestry, and all kinds of showy 
 goods, even to colored table-cloths. Government boats were 
 flying about to preserve order. These were decked out in 
 very pretty taste. The sides of one were hung with festoons 
 of blue and white cloth. The oars were painted in lines of 
 blue and white, and the boatmen's dress was of the same 
 
LETTERS. 199 
 
 colors. They were dressed in a kind of theatrical costume ; 
 they wore square blue caps, with white feathers in them. 
 Another boat's crew were dressed in red and black, the an- 
 cient bandit costume, and another still in pink and white. 
 On board another boat were the musicians. At six, two 
 guns were fired, and at this signal the boats started. There 
 were eight small, light boats, each having two oarsmen, who 
 stood up in the boat and plied their feathery oars with 
 great dexterity and activity. They went about three miles 
 from our hotel, so that for some time we lost sight of them. 
 At length shouts announced their near approach, and soon 
 one boat was seen darting along toward the goal, followed 
 almost instantly by another, and still another, while some 
 distance in the rear, the laggards were vainly attempting to 
 come up with them. In the middle of the grand canal, the 
 prizes were distributed; we were not near enough, to see 
 this part of the show, but we were told that the first boat at 
 the goal gained fifty dollars, the second forty, the third thir- 
 ty, and the fourth twenty, each one receiving a flag in addi- 
 tion to the money. Besides these, the victors generally 
 receive money and presents from some of the wealthy Vene- 
 tians. A race like this has taken place every year for one 
 hundred years, but within the last two or three years it has 
 been given up. This year the old custom has again re- 
 vived. 
 
 Notwithstanding the hundreds of boats that were in the 
 canals and in the bay, I believe there was no accident. Yes, 
 1 did see one man fall overboard, which frightened me 
 excessively, not that I feared he would be drowned, but that 
 among so many boats, he would be jammed to death, but he 
 was pulled out of the water without any danger, save a good 
 ducking, and I rather thought some little fright to himself 
 
 There was no appearance of riot or confusion. Every 
 thing was conducted in the most orderly manner. But 
 hark ! they have come for our trunks, and I must bid adieu, 
 not only to you, but to dear Venice j " dear," from its for- 
 
200 LETTERS. 
 
 mer associations with ^all that is grand, and stirring, and 
 chivalric, tinged, it is true, with the dark hues of religious 
 superstition : " dear," from its present touching desolation 
 and decay. Yours, as ever. 
 
 June 22d. 
 My dearkst F. : 
 
 For once I begin a letter without being able to let you 
 know where we are, for I do not know myself the name of 
 the little village where we are stopping to-night. All I 
 know is, that we are two days' journey from Venice. But 
 I can give you a better account of the past than the present. 
 We left Venice Monday morning by six o'clock, and with 
 saddened hearts bade farewell to her canals and bridges, 
 her palaces and domes and spires, and here we left behind 
 also our pleasant fellow-traveller, Mr. T., so that Mr. D. and 
 I have the inside of the carriage to ourselves, our books, and 
 maps, and cloaks, J. always riding on the outside. At Mestra 
 we found our good Francesco waiting for us, his faithful 
 steeds equipped and ready to take us on our way to Milan. 
 I cannot but feel joyous as our steps are bent towards the 
 north, because I feel that our faces are now turned home- 
 ward, that each day is bringing us nearer our beloved home 
 and country. And yet we do not like to part with fair and 
 sunny Italy. 
 
 From Venice to Padua, where we stopped last night, we 
 found the country very like that through which we passed 
 before reaching Venice. Our road lay by the side of canals 
 or running streams, and the fields were fertile, and the land- 
 scapes pretty. 
 
 Padua, the birthplace of Livy, the Roman historian, is 
 now rapidly sinking into decay. Some of the streets are 
 wide, others narrow, but all are grass-grown, and bear the 
 
LETTERS. 201 
 
 marks of desolation and decline. Many of the houses are 
 ornamented with arches, like those in Bologna. As it was 
 but two o'clock when we reached Padua, we had some hours 
 for looking about, which, under the directions of an expe- 
 rienced guide, we improved to the best of our ability. This 
 city was formerly celebrated for its University, which in its 
 most flourishing days numbered eighteen thousand students; 
 now there are about eleven hundred. We just looked into 
 one of the University buildings, around the sides of which, 
 within the court, are monuments and inscriptions to those 
 students who have here gained honors. Among these were 
 English, German, French, Italian, and Russian youth, but I 
 saw none from our own land, though our guide assured us 
 there was one. I suppose he would have told us the same 
 if he knew we came from Greenland or New Holland. We 
 went into one of the halls, where we found that students 
 w^ere students all the world over, at least for hacking and 
 marking benches and desks. Indeed we were told that 
 those here were sorry chaps, up to all sorts of mischief, 
 keeping the police in constant vigilance. 
 
 Of the various churches in Padua that we saw, I cannot 
 fancy that after hearing of the churches of Naples, Rome, 
 Florence, and Venice, the account would be very interesting 
 to you, so I pass them over in silence. 
 
 To-day we stopped a few hours at Vicenza, celebrated as 
 being the birthplace of the celebrated architect, Palladio. 
 It is adorned with several palaces designed by him, and 
 built in a rich, yet simple style, generally in the Ionic order 
 of architecture. The Basilica, or council chamber, was 
 also designed by him. It is built of stone, and has little 
 arcades running around the lower story. But the master- 
 piece of Palladio's genius is his Olympic theatre, built after 
 the model of the ancient theatres. It struck us as some- 
 thing quite new, though by the way, we are not sufficiently 
 acquainted with theatres to know the new from the old. 
 The stage, instead of having a curtain and scene, is a scene 
 
202 LETTERS. 
 
 of itself. Walls are put up, forming cJifTerent rooms 
 adorned with pillars and statues. The whole is beautifully 
 painted in landscapes, the city of Thebes, I believe. The 
 perspective is perfect. The pit is used for the orchestra, 
 then come the tiers of seats, ranged in semicircles above 
 the pit, and front of the stage. Above the seats is a gallery, 
 adorned with statues in plaster, representing orators in dif- 
 ferent attitudes. This theatre was built in 1550, and will 
 accommodate twenty-five hundred persons. It is now used 
 by some academy as a school for declamation. 
 
 We then strolled out of the gates of the city under a 
 beautiful arch, also built by Palladio, for he seems the pre- 
 siding genius of the place, and came to a beautiful ride, 
 something like that leading to the Cascine in Florence. 
 The road was wide, and lined with two rows of trees. Be- 
 neath the trees were little cafes, in the form of tents, and 
 there we stopped and got some refreshing ices. The coun- 
 try around was charming. The summits of the neighboring 
 hills were crowned with castles and churches. We were 
 much pleased with Vicenza. It is cleaner, and wears a 
 more cheerful aspect than most of the Italian towns. 
 
 Now, at evening, we are in this little village of which I 
 cannot give the name. It numbers but a few houses, but it 
 is situated in the midst of the most beautiful landscapes, 
 and has mountains and hills all around it. 
 
 The ride from Vicenza here was delightful, the country 
 fertile and rich as a garden, the fields full of " yellow 
 sheaves of ripened grain." On our way we crossed a bridge, 
 the scene of one of Napoleon's battles. The sun is now 
 setting ; the sky is soft and clear, the mountain-tops are 
 gilded with the parting rays of the sun, and every thing 
 around reminds me that I am in that favored land where all 
 nature is lovely, where the skies are soft, and the breezes 
 balmy. 
 
 I have not found the sunsets so surpassingly beautiful as 
 I anticipated, I suppose because that in our own land we 
 
LETTERS. 203 
 
 too can boast of fine sunsets and glowing skies. Nursed 
 amid fogs and vapors, the English know nothing of clear, 
 bright skies, hence, when they go to Italy they are enchant- 
 ed with the sunsets, and the beautiful hues of the clouds ; 
 but I have heard English gentlemen who have been in the 
 United States say, that they found quite as bright skies and 
 soft sunsets there as here. 
 
 This evening the sky is beautiful, and you will not think 
 me partial when I say that it calls to mind some of the 
 fair mild evenings and gorgeous sunsets I have witnessed 
 at B. 
 
 After we had our dinner, we sauntered out along the 
 road, under the overhanging trees, communing in silence 
 w^ith nature. There was naught to disturb the stillness, 
 save here and there the laborers returning to their homes, 
 after the toils of the day were ended, and the faint hooting 
 of the owl, and the croaking of the frog. Oh, how much 
 this quiet scene reminded me of some of my favorite w alks 
 in my loved native land ! As we turned our steps home- 
 ward, the peal of the village bell struck upon our ears, its 
 sweet, low tones in perfect harmony with the lovely scene 
 around. 
 
 And now all nature seems at rest. The ever active, ever 
 bustling world is quiet, and it is time that I should seek rest 
 also ; so good night to you. 
 
 Thursday evening. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 You will think that I am indeed in a strange land, since I 
 am not able to give you the name of this, our stopping-place 
 for the night. It is a small village, but it has such a long 
 name, that although I can pronounce it, I dare not endan- 
 ger my orthography by venturing to spell it. I have given up 
 
204 LETTERS. 
 
 my twilight stroll to write to you. Besides I have been so 
 on the move this week that I have become quite exhausted, 
 and find it necessary to husband my strength for to-morrow's 
 sight-seeing in Milan. In order to have a long day to- 
 morrow, we are to start at four, that we may arrive in Milan 
 in season to accomplish something in the afternoon. But 
 what a long exordium ! Now to the subject-matter of this 
 letter. 
 
 Yesterday we rested five hours at Verona. Rested, did I 
 say 1 Yes, if that can be called resting, which consists in a 
 change from riding to walking, from sitting for two or three 
 hours in a carriage to running about from place to place for 
 as many more. This town is immensely fortified, if I 
 may use such an expression ; the walls being of such a 
 thickness as would seem to defy almost any ammunition. 
 You may have some idea how thick they are, when I tell 
 you, that large shops are kept within the lower part, yea, 
 and many portions are used as barracks for the soldiers. 
 Many of the fortifications, and some parts of the walls are 
 quite modern. This town suffered severely when the French 
 besieged it and took possession of it after the battle of 
 Marengo; since then the Veronese have been determined 
 that it shall not soon yield again, so they repaired and re- 
 built their walls and increased their fortresses, till they have 
 made it one of the most strongly fortified towns I have yet 
 seen. The church of St. Georgio, which stands near one 
 of the gates, and an adjoining house, were much battered 
 by the guns of the French, the house in particular, being 
 covered with indentations made by the balls. 
 
 Verona is situated on the Adige, which is spanned by 
 some very fine bridges. Many of the houses are quite hand- 
 some, and there are some noble palaces, among which was 
 the one that Napoleon inhabited the two months he was in 
 this city. Verona boasts of having given birth to many 
 distinguished persons, to Catullus, Emilius Marius, Corne- 
 lius Nepos, (whose history is generally put into the hands 
 
LETTERS. 205 
 
 of youngsters learning the mysteries of the Latin tongue,) 
 Pliny the elder, Viterbius the celebrated architect of the 
 Augustan age, Paul Veronese, and some others. We visited 
 two or three churches in which were some good paintings 
 by Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. 
 
 In the very centre of the city we passed something, not a 
 church, not a house, that attracted our attention. With 
 eager curiosity we stopped to look at it. It was the tombs of 
 the Scaligeri family, who in the fourteenth century were the 
 lords of Verona. There are several of these tombs, two 
 or three of which are merely sarcophagi of marble, sculp- 
 tured on the outside, but the two which so attracted our 
 attention deserve particular notice. They are much more 
 like temples than tombs, being quite lofty, and built in the 
 Gothic style. They are neither circular, nor square, but 
 six-sided, supported by pillars and arches, and having niches 
 filled with sculpture. 
 
 But the object of greatest interest to the historical reader, 
 is the Amphitheatre, built in the time of Trajan. It is the 
 most perfect in its remains of any that we have yet visited. 
 True, it has not the great height of the Colosseum, nor the 
 immense size of the one near Puteoli, but the inner walls 
 and the seats are in a perfect state of preservation. It is of 
 an oval form, two stories in height, and has forty-seven rows 
 of seats, b'eing calculated to seat, Madame Starke (author 
 of the principal guide-book in Italy) says, twenty-three 
 thousand spectators, but our guide says forty thousand. 
 *' Who shall decide when doctors disagree ?" The arena is 
 two hundred and twenty-five feet long, and one hundred and 
 thirty-three wide. It is now fitted up for shops ; indeed I 
 saw one part ornamented with a blacksmith's forge. Strange 
 perversion. Yet is it not now used for a better purpose, 
 than when thousands there assembled, to see men torn in 
 pieces by the wild beasts? 
 
 I said to the historical reader this amphitheatre was the 
 greatest object of interest, but to the poetic, to the lover of 
 18 
 
206 LETTERS. 
 
 Shakspeare, to the admirers of his genius, Verona has a 
 still greater charm. It is the scene of the far-famed play of 
 Romeo and Juliet. Nay, the very coffin is shown in which 
 the heroine was placed at the time of her feigned death. It 
 is of Verona marble, of a reddish hue. There is a raised 
 pillow at the top for the head, and a socket near for a can- 
 dle, according to the customs of those times. Such is the 
 rage for relics, not only among Romanists, but among trav- 
 ellers, that parts of this coffin have been broken off, and 
 transported to different climes, so that it is now placed 
 under strict surveillance. 
 
 Thus we passed our hours of " rest " at Verona ; judge ye 
 how much refreshed we were when we once more found 
 ourselves on the road. But last evening we stopped at a 
 place that amply repaid us for all the fatigue of the day. 
 Not that it has ever been made the theme of poesy and 
 song, not that it is renowned for mighty deeds of valor, at 
 least not as far as my limited information extends, but its 
 charms for us were the extreme beauty of its situation. It 
 was a little village on the lovely lake " di Garda." 
 
 The ride there from Verona would, without doubt, have 
 been delightful, had not clouds of dust almost totally impeded 
 our view. The trees along the roadside abounded with lo- 
 custs, which kept up such a perpetual humming and buzzing 
 as almost to deafen me. For several miles before reaching our 
 stopping-place, we were in sight of the lake, almost encir- 
 cled by mountains, on whose tops rested clouds, black as 
 the darkest midnight, while the surface of the lake reflected 
 their sable tints. Suddenly a cloud rolled away from a 
 mountain-top, leaving behind one of a silvery hue, while a 
 still more distant summit was faintly lit up by a beautiful bow, 
 which seemed to us to promise that the dark clouds should 
 soon all disappear, and a glorious flood of light burst in 
 upon the enshrouded scene. As the clouds changed and 
 moved, so changed the aspect of the water, now overspread 
 with a dark shadow, now lit up into life and loveliness. 
 
LETTERS. 207 
 
 ^he whole formed one of the grandest scenes I ever wit- 
 nessed. 
 
 Our hotel was on the margin of the lake, and our win- 
 dows looked directly upon it. Of course, with my usual 
 liking for the water, I selected a room that commanded a 
 fine view. The waves, for even the surface of the gentle 
 lake was stirred by the coming storm, came in with a heavy 
 roar, like the surging of the sea ; so that I was lulled to 
 sleep by 
 
 "The moonlight waves 
 Returning homeward to their caves." 
 
 At sunset we walked in the garden back of the hotel, and 
 rambled along under apricot, cherry, plum, and almond 
 trees, interlaced by the hanging vine, now full of clusters of 
 green grapes. Through the branches of the trees we caught 
 glimpses of the lake, over which lay the deep shades of twi- 
 light. It was an exquisite scene, and worthy the inimitable 
 pencil of Claude Lorraine. Will you accuse me, prosaic 
 me, of becoming romantic, when I tell you that I rose two 
 or three times in the night, and looked out upon the lake, 
 then calmed to repose by the threatened storm having passed 
 harmlessly by? 
 
 To-day we stopped at Brescia, a clean and pretty town. 
 The streets are clean (a great rarity in an Italian city), are 
 well paved, and have two rows of square stones in the mid- 
 dle of the street, for the wheels of carriages. The streets 
 too can boast of good sidewalks, another great novelty. 
 There are some fine churches and palaces, but we passed 
 them by, that we might have the more time to spend on 
 some ruins, but lately brought to light. It is a temple, 
 supposed, to have been dedicated to Hercules. In front the 
 ground is covered with fragments of marble, pillars, statues, 
 and tombs. The portico of the temple is supported by 
 fourteen immense, fluted pillars of white marble, none of 
 which are now perfect. The temple is divided into three 
 different apartments, each having its own altar ; one of 
 
208 ' LETTERS. 
 
 them is quite perfect, the others are broken. The walls, 
 which are modern, are lined with ancient inscriptions, 
 statues and other remains of antiquity. The floor is paved 
 with marble. There is a beautiful bronze statue of Victory 
 having wings, found buried in the earth near the temple. 
 Underneath is a subterranean passage which extends some 
 distance. We were obliged to have torches in going down. 
 It is of sufficient height to admit of one standing upright, 
 is lined with marble and floored with mosaics. 
 
 We were tempted just to go into one church to see a cele- 
 brated painting by Titian. It is one of his masterpieces. 
 and represents the woman taken in adultery. Her face, so 
 expressive of shame, repentance and gratitude, that of Christ 
 so full of benevolence and love to her, and of stern reproof 
 to those who judged her harshly, are admirable. 
 
 And now I must stop for the best of all reasons, that I 
 have nothing more to say. In such a case is not silence 
 pardonable ? 
 
 CoMO, June 26th. 
 My dear Friend: 
 
 We have chosen this secluded spot for our resting-place 
 for the coming Sabbath, and I sit down in quiet to give you 
 the record of the past two days. The country from the 
 town with a long " unspellable " name, to Milan, was beau- 
 tiful, highly cultivated and well watered. Little canals bor- 
 dered the roadside and intersected the fields ; tall poplars 
 lined the road, which was level and good. The people 
 were industrious and seemed happy. It speaks, well for 
 Lombardy and the Austrian government, that ever since we 
 have been under its dominion we have seen but few beggars, 
 and those were chiefly in the church of St. Mark at Venice. 
 At Padua, we met but one ; at Vicenza, Verona, Brescia 
 none, and along the road, only here and there one at goodly 
 intervals. 
 
 A 
 
LETTERS. 209 
 
 We passed a good many silk factories, where dozens of 
 women and girls were busy preparing the cocoons and 
 reeling off the silk. They were singing at their work, and 
 seemed cheerful and happy. We also passed both yester- 
 day and to-day numberless loads of grain, and the drivers 
 are the sleepiest set of fellows the world ever saw. Almost 
 every one was extended on top of his load fast asleep, trust- 
 ing entirely to his careful horse, to lead him safely through 
 all difficulties. I was much amused with one little scene 
 that I witnessed. A quite heavily loaded cart, in which 
 was as usual a man asleep, took up a large portion of the 
 road. The driver of another load more wakeful than his 
 companion, wished to pass ; he therefore just touched with 
 his whip the other horse, causing him so suddenly to jump 
 one side, as instantly to awake the sleeper. With the in- 
 stinctive politeness of the lower classes, the offender touched 
 his hat, bowed and said, " Pardon me, Signor, for disturbing 
 you." The other seemed not at all excited to anger, but 
 calmly settled himself to sleep once more. 
 
 To-day we have met persons having on their necks large 
 swellings, called here goitres. Sometimes they are on one 
 side, and sometimes directly in front, and are often much 
 larger than a hen's egg. It really makes one shudder to 
 see them. 
 
 We entered Milan through the eastern gate, by a fine 
 promenade bordered with trees. The streets are wide and 
 paved like those of Brescia, the houses are regular and 
 noble looking, and before we had advanced far, we readily 
 acknowledged that Milan is indeed the *' Paris of Italy." 
 We stopped at the Hotel Suisse, and after we got rid of our 
 dusty travelling clothes, procured a guide, and went out 
 with as much eager curiosity as though sight-seeing was a 
 rare thing for us. And yet has not every place some new 
 claims upon our attention ? 
 
 We passed through wide and clean streets. Think it not 
 strange that I enlarge upon this subject, but really we have 
 18* 
 
210 LETTERS. 
 
 been subjected to so many annoyances in the narrow, dirty 
 streets of Naples and Rome, that it sometimes seemed use- 
 less to us to attempt to be clean ourselves. So it is indeed 
 a luxury to walk out, without being obliged to change your 
 clothes as soon as you get home. Through wide, clean 
 streets then, we walked and by some handsome palaces, till 
 we came to the Palace Brera, in which is the academy of 
 fine arts. The sculpture gallery was closed, but we saw a 
 grand collection of paintings. As I am rapidly hastening 
 away from these splendid specimens of art, I begin to love 
 them more and more, and to feel that I can scarcely spend 
 too much time in gazing on them. I thought when I was 
 in Rome and Florence and could see fine pictures every 
 day, that I prized the privilege much, but I feel now that I 
 did not value it as much as I ought; and now as such advan- 
 tages become more and more rare, I seize with eagerness 
 every opportunity that offers, to feast my mind upon the soft 
 and soul-like beauties of Raphael, the gentle loveliness of 
 Sassoferrata, the expressive faces of Guido and Coreggio, 
 the dark, yet sublime landscapes of Salvator Rosa and 
 Bassano, the sunny pictures of Claude Lorraine, the masterly 
 conceptions of Michael Angelo, the glowing colors of Do- 
 menichino, Caravaggio, Guercino and Caracci, the subdued 
 and touching sweetness of Carlo Dolci, the splendid master- 
 pieces of Titian, Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, Leonarda da 
 Vinci, and a host of others whose paintings have been, and 
 will yet be handed down to posterity as the perfection of 
 art. But what shall I say more? — for the time would fail 
 me to speak of Rubens, Rembrandt and Vandyke, cele- 
 brated in coloring and in figures ; of Brill, Burker and 
 Poussin, renowned for their landscapes ; of Perrugino and 
 Julio Romano, the one the master, the other the pupil of 
 Raphael ; of Albano, Andrea del Sarto, and many others 
 whose praise is in all the world. 
 
 In this gallery are pictures by some artists whose names 
 I have not before heard, principally of the Milanese school, 
 
LETTERS. 211 
 
 — Luini Berdini, who, in point of time, is one of the first 
 whose paintings are now extant, and whose pictures are 
 indeed interesting, not only in themselves, but in showing 
 the style that prevailed in his day, and also how well the 
 coloring has been preserved ; Clespie, who has a fine pic- 
 ture of Christ, bearing His cross ; Grozzi, whose beautiful 
 landscapes almost approach those of Claude Lorraine ; and 
 some others, whose names have escaped me. 
 
 As I have spoken to you of many of the pictures of my 
 favorite artists, I will do myself and them too the injustice 
 of passing them now by in silence, for fear of making my 
 letter too long, and just speak to you of one picture by 
 Bolazzi, a Milanese artist of the present day. He was at 
 the time but twenty-five years old, and he completed it in 
 the short space of three months. It is, although deficient 
 in coloring, as every one immediately perceives, one of the 
 most expressive pictures in the world. It represents the 
 Deluge. The heavens are shrouded in darkness, save in 
 one place, where the lurid lightning makes the darkness 
 but the more visible. On a rock, surrounded by the raging 
 waters, which every moment seem to rise higher and higher, 
 stands a man with his breast bared as in defiance of the 
 storm. His head is thrown back, and with one arm drawn 
 behind him, and the other pointing upward, he defies Him 
 who commanded the deluge. It is, I had almost said, the 
 most expressive face and form I ever saw on canvass. De- 
 fiance is seated on the haughty face, in the proud, uplifted 
 eyes, in the swelling form, ihe strained muscles, and in the 
 firm hold which his foot has upon the rock. At his feet 
 kneels a female figure, her arms twined around him, her 
 face lifted beseechingly to him, as if gently, yet agonizingly 
 praying him not to brave God's coming wrath. Near her 
 on a projecting piece of the rock, sits another figure, cov- 
 ered with a mantle, with bended form, as if resolved in 
 despair and sorrow to m'eet the doom she cannot avert. 
 Then again, behold another group ; a mother holds in her 
 
2 12 LETTERS. 
 
 arms her little boy, and teaches him to clasp his tiny hands, 
 and raise his young, innocent face to Heaven and pray 
 for safety. Besides these, there are several other figures, 
 some almost submerged in the waves, some lying, some 
 sitting on the rocks, their faces expressive of woe, anguish 
 and despair. This picture made an impression on our 
 minds, which time will not soon efface, and again, and 
 again, we turned to it, as though we would forcibly impress 
 it upon our memories. 
 
 After dinner we rode around the environs of the city. 
 Oui attention was first turned towards thet riumphal arch at 
 the termination of the Simplon road. It was designed by 
 Napoleon, and completed by the two succeeding emperors 
 of Austria. Without any exception, it is the most beautiful 
 specimen of art in the shape of an arch I ever saw. It is of 
 the purest white marble, sculptured in the richest manner. 
 It is seventy-three feet high, and was finished in 1838, so 
 that it is in all its purity and freshness. There are three 
 arches, the interior sides of which are sculptured in bas- 
 reliefs, representing different historical scenes. The roof is 
 sculptured in arabesques, in the Gothic style. There are 
 several large figures in the front, representing the rivers 
 Adige and Po, Abundance, Peace, Minerva and Apollo. 
 The two fronts are adorned with four beautiful pillars. A 
 railing is before the entrance to the middle arch, and no 
 carriages are allowed to pass under, save those belonging to 
 the royal family. When Napoleon designed this arch, all 
 the sculpture was to be representations of his battles and 
 victories, but after his fall, the jealousy of the Austrian 
 government would not permit these designs to be carried 
 into execution. His name, however, appears on the part 
 facing the country, while those of the Austrian emperors are 
 on that towards the city. 
 
 We ascended by a flight of one hundred and two steps, 
 (you know I am famous for counting every thing,) within 
 the side arch, to the top, on which is a car drawn by six 
 
LETTERS. 213 
 
 horses. In the car stands Peace, bearing in her hand an 
 olive branch. The car is beautifully wrought, and the 
 horses are so large that I could almost stand under them 
 without stooping. On each corner of the edifice is Victory 
 on horseback, holding out tow ards the city a crown of olive 
 leaves. All these are of bronze, and are admirably done, 
 showing that sculpture which was so perfect generations 
 gone by, has not yet declined from that perfection. The 
 architect was a Milanese, and he was employed four years 
 upon it. The whole cost of the structure was eight hundred 
 thousand dollars, the bronze work alone costing two hundred 
 thousand. 
 
 Near this arch is another built of the common marble of 
 that region, through which pass all the carriages and people, 
 each one having to stop to undergo an examination. In 
 front of the triumphal arch is a large open space, clothed 
 with grass of the brightest green. Around this square 
 called " le place de chateau," Napoleon intended to build 
 palaces, which design expired, with many others, when his 
 sceptre departed. However Napoleon Bonaparte may be 
 viewed in his military career, no one can pass through this 
 country without admiring the genius of a man, who designed 
 and carried out so many improvements, for embellishing the 
 cities under his dominion. Had he lived twenty years 
 longer, almost every city in France and Italy would have 
 been able to have boasted of much greater beauty than even 
 now charms the eye. 
 
 On one side of the " place de chateau," is the amphi- 
 theatre, built in Napoleon's time. It is an immense building, 
 calculated to seat thirty thousand people. There are nine 
 entrances, and a great many rows of seats. Those for the 
 royal family and the nobility are of stone, the others are 
 covered with turf The arena is over four hundred feet long 
 and nearly three hundred wide, and is so well supplied with 
 water by aqueducts, that in fifteen minutes it can be com- 
 pletely covered, so that it will admit of boat races, which 
 
214 LETTERS. 
 
 often took place when Napoleon was in the city. Now, 
 however, it is used for horse races. 
 
 The walls of Milan are nine miles in circumference, and 
 the whole distance round, outside the gates, is laid out in a 
 magnificent ride, with a double row of trees, the horse- 
 chestnut, the buttonwood, and some whose names I do not 
 know. This forms the fashionable promenade of the 
 Milanese. They however do not generally go the whole 
 distance, but only about a mile or two from one particular 
 gate, and then turn around and go back. This part of the 
 ride is called the Corso. We met in our ride fine looking 
 carriages and horses, and numbers of the great people riding 
 out, with their servants in rich liveries, consisting of 
 breeches of black silk velvet, and broadcloth coats trimmed 
 and faced with the same rich material. We met a French- 
 man on horseback, the oddest looking genius you can 
 imagine. Our valet de place told us that he was crazy, or 
 foolish, I don't know which, the word " fou " meaning both. 
 He is quite wealthy, and appears out every evening in a new 
 costume. And often in the Corso, when " all the world " 
 are there, he walks through the long line of carriages, lead- 
 ing his horse after him. 
 
 Since last September, a rail-road has been completed 
 between Milan and Monza, a distance of ten miles. As we 
 rode by the depot, we saw a crowd of people wending their 
 way to one particular spot. I asked the *' valet de place," 
 what was going on. He said it was time for the cars to 
 arrive, and he asked if we would like to stop and see them. 
 We said " no," to his apparent amazement, for he raised 
 both hands and said with much surprise, " not go to see the 
 rail-road ? Why every body goes, even the very nobility of 
 Milan." Well, we thought it would not do for us to be 
 behind the nobility in curiosity, Yankees that we are, so we 
 ordered our coachman to drive there also. We strongly 
 suspect both he and the " valet " felt much pleased with this 
 change in our determination. We walked some ways along 
 
LETTERS. 215 
 
 the rail-road, inwardly laughing at the idea of our stoppino- 
 to see the cars come in from a distance of ten miles, when at 
 home we can see them a half dozen times a day come from 
 four times that distance. There were hundreds of people, 
 and well dressed, fashionable people too, and dozens of 
 handsome carriages, waiting to see the arrival, and it has 
 been just so every night since the cars commenced running. 
 When the cars came in sight, the multitude shouted and 
 clapped their hands, ladies and gentlemen stood up in their 
 carriages, and all seemed as much excited as though the 
 greatest event in the world had happened. The conductor 
 stood on top with as dignified and royal a look, and he 
 glanced around with as proud an eye, as though he was 
 monarch of all he surveyed. They are an hour in going the 
 ten miles. We wanted much to go to Monza, not that we 
 had any curiosity to try the rail-road, but to see the iron 
 crown with which all the emperors of Austria, since the time 
 of Charlemagne, have been crowned, but we had not the 
 time to spare. 
 
 In returning to our hotel, we passed by *' the Grand 
 Hospital," an immense edifice, built around eight courts, 
 and containing five thousand beds. Twenty priests stay 
 there all the time, to administer Christian consolation to the 
 sick and the dying. Connected with the building is a small 
 stone house, where are placed those who die of malignant 
 disorders, whence they are taken at midnight, carried out 
 of the city, and buried. 
 
 Opposite to this is the " Foundling Hospital," near the 
 door of which is a small window, with a little bell attached to 
 it. Here women, who have infants that they cannot or will 
 not support, deposit their offspring. They touch the bell, 
 whose call is answered by one of the attendants, and within 
 the window she finds a child, without knowing whence it 
 came or who brought it. However benevolent such an in- 
 stitution may be in itself, it certainly seems not the best 
 adapted for a country, where the rules of morality are net 
 strictly followed. 
 
216 LETTERS. 
 
 But the crowning glory of Milan is its Cathedral. It is a 
 grand and a beautiful edifice. I am not sure but I like it as 
 well as St. Peter's. True, this cannot compare with St. 
 Peter's in grandeur, in true sublimity, in magnificent works 
 of art, but in beauty, in perfect finish, it will equal it. They 
 are both perfect in their style of architecture. St. Peter's is 
 vast, but its vastness is not fully seen, because it is divided 
 into numberless side chapels. But in the Cathedral at 
 Milan, with one glance you take in the whole, " the long 
 drawn" aisles, the vaulted ceiling, the massy pillars, the 
 floods of light streaming over the marble floor from the 
 gorgeous windows, all strike you at once, and you stand 
 awe-struck and entranced. 
 
 I shall not, for I cannot, enter into minute details re- 
 specting this church. I will only give you a general idea of 
 it, as well as I am able. It is nearly five hundred feet long, 
 three hundred wide, and two hundred and fifty to the top of 
 the cupola. It is all of white marble, or originally was, the 
 parts that have been built the longest being discolored by 
 time. The roof, tower, and minarets are new, and are 
 dazzingly white. The interior and exterior of the church 
 are adorned with sculpture and statues, productions of the 
 best artists from the time the church was commenced in the 
 fourteenth century, till the present day. We ascended by 
 two hundred and thirty-nine steps (counting again) to the 
 roof of the church. It is covered with balustrades or railing 
 of white marble, ascending from the walls of the church to 
 the peak in the centre, each separate railing topped by a 
 beautifully carved flower, no two flowers being alike, so that, 
 as the guide expressed it, the roof is a real botanical garden. 
 
 From the roof rise one hundred and twelve minarets, or 
 light tapering spires, each surmounted by a large statue. 
 They are filled with niches, and each niche has within it a 
 little statue, as beautifully finished as though designed for 
 near inspection, instead of adorning the roof of a church. 
 There are more than five thousand different statues about 
 
LETTERS. 217 
 
 the church, and I was told by one of the attendants, that 
 when it is finished there will be fifteen thousand. I 
 asked " When will it be finished ? " He said, " Never, for 
 as soon as one part is completed, some other that has been 
 built a long time, will need to be repaired, and thus some 
 work and expense must always be laid out upon it." 
 
 From the roof we went up by more than two hundred 
 steps into a fragile looking tower, whence we had a full 
 view of this beautiful edifice ; and lovely did it look, with 
 the rich sunlight playing over the dazzling minarets, and 
 lighting up as with rays of glory the pale statues. Nor did 
 the charming view stop here. Down in the streets of the 
 city was a living, moving mass ; men hurrying to and fro, 
 women with their gay garments fluttering in the wind, 
 priests in their rich robes, nobles in their splendid carriages, 
 all presented a scene, seemingly more like a panorama than 
 like a real thing of life. Then there were the canals and 
 river, w^inding through the rich green vales, the villages 
 scattered through the valley, and the distant mountains, their 
 lofty summits almost lost in the clouds. We looked through 
 a telescope, and saw distinctly towns that were twenty miles 
 distant. The dome and spires of Brescia were plainly 
 seen, and palaces a few miles off were so clearly discerned, 
 that we could see people moving about in the courts. A 
 light misty haze hung over the earth ; but when it is per- 
 fectly clear, Genoa, and the sea, eighty miles distant, may 
 be seen, and so clearly, that even the steamboats entering 
 the harbor are discerned. The dome of St. Mark's, too, 
 Mont Blanc, St. Bernard, and St. Gothard, are also seen. 
 
 With regret we left this beautiful spot, and descended 
 into the church, though we could not stop long even there, 
 so eager was our guide that we should go with him into one 
 of the subterranean chapels, where he said was a '* grand 
 sight." So we went down. And what was the " sight." 
 The tomb of San Carlo Borromeo, the patron saint of 
 Milan, for every town and village claims one saint for its own. 
 19 
 
218 LETTERS, 
 
 The little chapel is lined with solid silver, gilded over, 
 and wrought in bas-reliefs, representing scenes in the life 
 of the saint, and over these are hangings of crimson velvet 
 wrought with gold. The sarcophagus is of silver gilt, and 
 is adorned with sixty small statues. By paying five francs, 
 we could see the inside of the sarcophagus, so the torch was 
 extinguished, and wax candles lit with much ceremony and 
 apparent solemnity, and the lid lowered by pulleys. Then 
 was disclosed to our gaze, a coffin of rock crystal set in 
 gold, in which lay a mummy-like man dressed in the richest 
 robes, with sandals on his feet, sparkling with the most bril- 
 liant diamonds. By his side lay his sceptre of gold, studded 
 with precious stones, and over his head hung his mitre, set 
 with gems, and near that was a cross of large emeralds 
 framed in gold. Around the coffin hung jewels of gold and 
 silver and rare stones, presented to the shrine by pious de- 
 votees. One was a singular ornament ; it was a small infant 
 of solid gold, presented by the Duchess of Modena, as a 
 model of one of her own gracious offspring. As the most 
 of these gewgaws were given by Philip IV. of Spain, and 
 the remainder by other great personages, no one has ever 
 estimated their expense ; but certainly there is gold and 
 silver about that dead man, sufficient to build a half 
 dozen churches. The cost of the chapel alone, in which is 
 the sarcophagus, was two hundred thousand dollars. 
 
 After we came from the Cathedral, we went into the Pal- 
 ace of the Viceroy. It is a large building, consisting of a 
 centre and two wings. To speak to you of the furniture of 
 this palace would be but to repeat former descriptions which 
 I have given. The throne room was hung with crimson 
 velvet, embroidered with gold, and the furniture was covered 
 with the same. The present Emperor is forty-two years 
 old, and he has no children; his brother, who is heir appar- 
 ent, has seven, so he has enough to supply the deficiency. 
 
 We passed by "La Seala," the great theatre, but we 
 could not gain admission, as the actors were rehearsing. It 
 
LETTERS. 219 
 
 is the largest and most splendid theatre in the world, and 
 we therefore regretted that we could not get a peep at the 
 interior. The front is adorned with a very handsome portico. 
 
 We then prepared to leave Milan ; not but that we might 
 have spent a week there very pleasantly, but we gave to it 
 all the time we felt that we could spare, and so we once 
 more entered our carriage, and were soon on the road to this 
 place. We found the ride, though through a pleasant coun- 
 try, almost intolerable from the heat and the dust, but toward 
 evening it grew cooler, and less dusty, and then we could 
 see that the country was charming. Around us were high 
 mountains, while our road wound round among the hills 
 and valleys, under the shade of large trees. We met labor- 
 ers returning from their work, looking pleasant and happy. 
 
 I felt greatly fatigued when I got here, for our time was 
 so fully occupied in Milan that I scarcely allowed myself 
 any rest, and it was so dusty and warm this afternoon, that 
 I could not take " a nap ; " however, I took my usual med- 
 icine when weary, viz., a warm bath, and now 1 feel quite 
 bright. 
 
 This is a small town situated on Lake Como, which is 
 quite an extensive lake. We did not reach here in season 
 to look about us any before night, and even if we had we 
 were all quite too tired to leave our rooms, except to take 
 our dinner. 
 
 Monday morn. 
 
 We rose this morning by little past three, (only think of 
 it ! ) that we might take a sail on the lake before leaving. 
 We engaged a boat to be ready for us by four, and at the 
 appointed time we were on hand ; but we were kept waiting 
 for a half hour, an iron chain being thrown across the en- 
 trance to the lake, so that no boats could either go out or 
 come in. This is done to prevent smuggling in the night. 
 We sent a message to the custom-house officers, humbly 
 requesting that we travellers, not traders, might be allowed 
 
220 LETTERS. 
 
 to go out, as we were desirous to see a little of the lake. But 
 though those very officers sauntered lazily along the margin 
 of the lake, yet they would not lower their dignity so much 
 as to order the chain to be unlocked, before the usual time. 
 I can tell you it made our republican blood boil, thus to 
 have to wait the pleasure of these pieces of importance 
 and self-consequence ; and I declared, as much as I loved 
 Italy, sweet, sunny Italy, that I would not live here for all 
 the world, to be subjected to so many petty annoyances. 
 Besides this, we were obliged to pay our boatman a franc 
 and a half for the time we were kept waiting, as we hired 
 the boat by the hour. 
 
 We sailed up the lake for five miles, delighted with the 
 stillness and beauty of the scene. High mountains were 
 all around us, and at that early hour cast their lengthened 
 shadows o'er the still waters. In some places the lake was 
 so shallow, that we could clearly see the stones at the bot- 
 tom, then again, it was, as our boatman expressed it, " twenty 
 men deep." The mountains sometimes sloped gently down 
 to the margin of the lake, and at others hung over them 
 with precipitous crags. We wound in and out by projecting 
 rocks and grassy promontories, each turn seeming to form 
 the termination of the lake, but yet it stretched on farther 
 and farther, and we might have gone for miles without 
 reaching the end. We passed by many handsome villas, 
 among which was that formerly occupied by Queen Caroline 
 of England. 
 
 I have written this while waiting for our breakfast. Yes- 
 terday I spent a quiet day in my own room, at least as quiet 
 as I could, seeing that I was in a noisy little town. There 
 were loud shouting and singing in the streets all day, and 
 a great deal of sailing on the lake. A steamboat went up 
 the lake and back again yesterday, but it being Sunday we 
 preferred staying at home. 
 
 After dinner J. and I took a quiet walk by a winding path 
 along a mountain side, catching here and there, through the 
 
LETTERS. 221 
 
 o'erarching trees and tangled shrubs, views of the lake, as it 
 lay in its quiet beauty embosomed among the hills. We 
 sauntered along, for a mile or two, often stopping to pluck a 
 " wild-wood flower," or to gaze upon the calm loveliness of 
 the scene. We heard no sound, save the rippling of the 
 water, as the oar broke its glassy surface, and the song of 
 the boatmen, floating faintly o'er the lake. It was a sweet 
 scene, a scene of Sabbath-like beauty and repose, and I 
 repeated often the words of Coleridge : 
 
 " Methinks it should have been impossible 
 Not to love all things in a world like this, 
 Where even the breezes and the common air, 
 Contain the power and spirit of harmony. 
 
 And then when we look abroad on all the beauties of nature, 
 the lofty mountain and the green vale, the noisy stream 
 and the still lake, the fertile meadows and waving fields, 
 how pleasant it is that we can say, our " Father made 
 them all ! " 
 
 But I must go to breakfast, and already I hear Francesco 
 coming round to the door with our carriage ; so I have time 
 merely to say good bye. 
 
 Sick, Thursday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Now we are in Switzerland, that glorious land of Switz- 
 erland, amid the most sublime scenes the world can produce, 
 at least so it seems to our fancy, excited as it is by a view 
 of the grand country through which we have passed this 
 week. 
 
 From Como to Vesere, our next resting place, the ride 
 was interesting, by a road winding among the mountains, 
 sometimes through a cultivated country, and at others amid 
 all the wildness of untilled nature. Some of the mountain 
 tops glistened with snow. 
 19* 
 
222 LETTERS. 
 
 We walked around the tcwn, seeing nothing that was par- 
 ticularly interesting, excepting in the street where the market 
 was, which was filled with ^shops and stands, in which, 
 and on which, was displayed almost every thing likely to 
 attract customers, it being market-day. It was really amus- 
 ing to see the people bargaining for what they wanted, and 
 had I understood the language, I should have taken delight 
 in hearing them canvass the prices; for as much eloquence 
 and as many gestures were used in buying a yard of ribbon 
 or a pound of cherries, as though the fate of the nation 
 depended on the purchase. I am convinced by what I 
 have seen, that the common people in Italy are close bar- 
 gainers. 
 
 The women in Vesere dress in queer style. Instead of 
 shoes they wear sandals made of wood, and fastened around 
 the toes by a piece of colored ribbon. These sandals have 
 very high heels, which make them walk badly. Their hair 
 is braided, the braid carried around the head, and stuck all 
 round with long pins, with heads as big as a thimble ; there 
 are sometimes a dozen of them. The most of them are of 
 German silver; a few of the wealthier class are able to 
 sport real silver. 
 
 We stopped that night at a village on the beautiful lake 
 Maggiore. The ride from Vesere was delightful, particu- 
 larly after we came in sight of the lake. We crossed a 
 river (I have forgotten the name) in a singular sort of boat, 
 drawn over by ropes in some way, but to tell you the plain 
 truth, I did not notice it much, as my attention was attracted 
 by a blind man who was playing on a violin and singing by 
 the side of the carriage. He sang very well, but I enjoyed 
 his conversation quite as much as his music. He told me 
 that he had been blind for thirty years, in fact ever since he 
 was quite a child. I said, *' Have you any family 1 " On his 
 answering in the affirmative, I asked, "How many children ? " 
 With the utmost simplicity he replied, *' Oh no children, 
 only a father and mother. My father is eighty years old and 
 
LETTERS. 223 
 
 my mother over seventy." I told him, as we left the boat, to 
 take care or he would fall ; but he said he had no fear, that for 
 twenty years he had gone over in the boat almost every time 
 a carriage crossed. He wished me good day and a good 
 journey, (" bon voyage," the universal wish,) with much 
 apparent interest. 
 
 After w^e crossed the river we were in the king of Sar- 
 dinia's dominions. An officer stopped the carriage, and in 
 the most polite manner asked if we had any thing against 
 the government. We said " No." '' But w^ill you have the 
 complacency to allow me to look ? " We instantly handed 
 our keys. Seeing another officer about to unstrap the 
 trunks, he said it was unnecessary to disturb them, so he 
 took our carpet-bags and began to unlock them. I had 
 generally succeeded in securing my carpet-bag from being 
 searched, by merely saying that it was my " sac de nuit " 
 (night bag) ; so no sooner did he touch it than I cried out, 
 " Oh Sir, that is my night bag," and he instantly dropped it 
 as though he had no right to meddle with that part of my 
 toilet. But Mr. D. came near meeting with an adventure, 
 that might not have been pleasant in its consequences. He, 
 seeing that my carpet-bag escaped untouched, had stowed 
 in his all the cameos and rich articles bought in Rome for 
 presents to his family. Fortunately at the top were a pair of 
 boots and some articles of wearing apparel. As soon as the 
 officer asked for his keys, he gave the key of the trunk but 
 not of the bag, saying that was his " night bag." All in 
 vain ; the officer had no respect for the " sac de nuit " of a 
 gentleman ; he demanded the key. It was given up with as 
 much readiness as possible on such an occasion, and we all 
 assumed an appearance of indifference that we were far from 
 feeling, for if after acknowledging that you had " nothing 
 against the government," articles subject to a duty are 
 found among your baggage, they may be taken from you, 
 and a fine imposed upon you. However, Mr. D.'s good 
 genius befriended him in the shape of a pair of boots (sin- 
 
224 LETTERS. 
 
 gular form though, for a presiding genius), for the officer 
 seeing the boots, reasonably concluded that the bag con- 
 tained nothing but wearing apparel ; he accordingly locked 
 it and gave up the key. We all breathed quite freely then, 
 I can assure you. 
 
 We rode along by the banks of the lake, which were 
 low and green and prettily planted with trees, through the 
 branches of which we could catch, now and then, glimpses 
 of the clear waters. On the opposite shore towered lofty 
 mountains. 
 
 Before our windows in the inn, the lake expanded into a 
 broad sheet, skirted by lofty mountains. It was a calm and 
 peaceful scene. 
 
 No sooner had we selected our rooms, than we started off 
 to see the colossal statue of San Carlo Borromeo, who 
 was born in this neighborhood. It was a mile from the inn, 
 but we had a delightful walk, along a path winding around 
 the mountain side, by the margin of the lake. The statue 
 stands on a high hill ; well may it be called colossal. Let 
 me give you a little idea of its size by telling you some of 
 its dimensions. The height of the pedestal is thirty-six 
 feet, and of the statue seventy-two. It measures twenty 
 feet around the head, and the face is seven feet and a half 
 long, and the nose two feet and seven inches. The arm is 
 twenty-eight feet long, the foot four feet. He is represented 
 in the robes of a bishop, which measure fifty-four feet 
 around. Every thing about the statue is on the same scale, 
 yet so perfect are the proportions, that it does not seem half 
 so large; indeed, I had to walk several times around it be- 
 fore I could realize it. Well, this is not all about the statue; 
 people go up inside of it ; in fact four men can stand within 
 its head at one time. You must know we made up our 
 minds to climb up too, for we go upon the old proverb, 
 ** What man has done, man may do," and I began to think 
 how I should puzzle you by trying to make you ** guess " 
 where I had been : but when we arrived at the foot of the 
 
LETTERS. 225 
 
 Statue, I saw a great high ladder resting against it. I asked 
 the man who acts as guide there, how we went up, if there 
 were no stairs within the pedestal. To our great surprise 
 and disappointment he said that there were none, and that 
 we must go up by that ladder. Persevering as I generally 
 am, I must acknowledge that at this information I drew 
 back. I could not summon courage to mount that ladder 
 at least sixty feet high, even to stand within a man's head 
 and to look out of a window in his neck. The gentlemen 
 gave up going, because they did not like to leave me down 
 there all alone, so we turned our steps homeward. The 
 sun was slowly sinking behind one of the mountains, which 
 was lit up by its parting beams, while the other mountains 
 were darker and still darker, according to their distance 
 from the setting sun. The lake was without a ripple, and 
 the golden tints of the clouds were reflected on its clear 
 surface. It was enchanting. Who would imagine that a 
 few hours would produce such a change in nature's fair 
 face ? That night there w as a heavy tempest, and in the 
 morning the lake still showed the effects of the storm. 
 The mountains looked dark and frowning, though occa- 
 sionally lit up with a passing gleam of sunshine. 
 
 For seventeen miles our road was directly along the lake 
 side, but I must confess myself so unromantic, as to have 
 slept the most of the time ; but really the storm was so 
 violent the night before as utterly to prevent my sleeping. 
 I strove hard against my drowsiness, but the inclination to 
 sleep was altogether too strong to be resisted. I made out 
 to rouse up when opposite to the islands in the lake, and 
 had just got my eyes open far enough to look out, when it 
 began to rain, and we were obliged to close the carriage 
 windows. There are three islands, Isola Bella is the pret- 
 tiest, and (I think) the largest. It rises up into quite a hill, 
 laid out in terraces. There is a palace on the island belong- 
 ing to the Borromeo family. We had intended taking a 
 boat and going off to these islands, but the rain effectually 
 prevented us. 
 
226 LETTERS. 
 
 As soon as we left the lake, we plunged in among the 
 mountains covered with trees. Here we were in the midst 
 of beauties of nature's own creation, the hand of man being 
 but little employed in heightening them. Here were thick 
 trees and shrubs, the scene constantly changing, by the 
 clouds of mist, now resting below the mountain tops, and 
 now rolling away from their sides. Hundreds of little rivu- 
 lets came dashing over rocks and stones, down the steep 
 descent, seeming far up the mountain, like silver threads. 
 All around were immense blocks of granite taken from the 
 mountain sides. 
 
 At the inns along this road we saw a change in the aspect 
 of affairs; here women do the greatest part of the work. 
 So many of the Swiss are soldiers, that almost every thing 
 at home devolves on the females. In the hotels in Italy all 
 the offices are performed by men, even the duties of cham- 
 bermaids. In Rome, Florence and Venice I never saw a 
 female servant. My bell was always answered by male 
 waiters. 
 
 Tuesday night we slept at Domo d'Ossola, at the foot of 
 the Simplon road. For several miles, before reaching it, our 
 road ran through a narrow valley, high mountains being on 
 either hand. A little river murmured along by our side, 
 fringed with willow and other trees, among which I noticed 
 quantities of the kind of walnut we call the " English wal- 
 nut." It grows in abundance in this country. We passed 
 many little cascades, foaming, leaping, dashing down the 
 mountain gorges, sometimes thirty, forty, or fifty feet at one 
 leap. In the crevices of the mountains we saw snow in 
 abundance. The mountains were dotted with little white 
 churches, which I thought were often more numerous than 
 the dwelling-houses. 
 
 Yesterday we safely accomplished our journey over the 
 Alps. We started at four in the morning, and arrived at 
 Brigg at six in the evening ; and oh, what a day it was ! 
 Through what grand and sublime scenes did we pass ! From 
 
LETTERS. 227 
 
 the moment that we left Domo d'Ossola, till we reached 
 Brigg on this side of the Alps, not an uninteresting spot did 
 we pass over. Through the whole of that day our attention 
 never flagged. I did not even open a book, so intent was I 
 in reading that page of nature's book spread out before me. 
 And then the road, how good it is ! How worthy of never- 
 dying honors is the man who designed such a work, such a 
 triumph of art over nature ! Truly, if Bonaparte had done 
 nothing else but this, his name would never die. For twenty 
 miles our way was upward. As far as the eye could sec, 
 mountains were around ; mountains, not smiling with ver- 
 dure, but rock-ribbed and barren, and in many places cov- 
 ered with snow. 
 
 For the first two or three hours we were in the king of 
 Sardinia's dominions, and the road was sadly out of repair ; 
 the bridges were broken, the walls down, and in two places, 
 we had to pass through a dashing river, the current of which 
 was so powerful, that if our horses had not been strong and 
 our carriage heavy, we must have been borne down the 
 stream. Shame on the government that will let such a noble 
 work go to decay ! 
 
 For miles a brawling torrent ran close by our side, dash- 
 ing along among rocks, its thundering noise constantly 
 sounding in our ears. Adown the mountains were hun- 
 dreds, and truth may I say, thousands of cascades, some 
 large, others quite small. Doubtless the heavy rain we 
 had the other night increased the power of these torrents. 
 Look where you would, there you would see the water 
 jumping and springing over the rocks, down the precipitous 
 sides of the mountain. More than fifty strong bridges are 
 thrown over these cataracts, and six grottoes are cut out of 
 the solid rock, through which we passed, sometimes a cata- 
 ract roaring under our feet, sometimes tumbling over our 
 heads. The mountains, in many places, were covered with 
 snow, and by the side of our very road it often lay in banks, 
 twenty, thirty, and even fifty feet deep. And this too, on 
 
228 LETTERS. 
 
 the last day of June ! Often a bridge was formed by snow, 
 under which a noisy cascade was wending its way. On sev- 
 eral of the mountains we saw glaciers, appearing like what 
 the name signifies, '* frozen seas." 
 
 Little vegetation was seen ; here and there was a patch of 
 cultivated ground, but every thing was very backward. 
 
 About eleven, we stopped at a nice, clean inn, in the little 
 village of Simplon, where we had a lunch of bread, honey 
 and milk. I lay down and slept for an hour, for I feared my 
 strength would leave me before night, if I did not get some 
 rest. For an hour or two after we started again, we toiled 
 up, still getting higher and higher. All the day we had two 
 additional horses to assist ours. 
 
 Alps on Alps arose before us ; the higher up we went, the 
 more they seemed to tower above us. The pine was the only 
 tree we saw, and often large trees lay by the roadside, having 
 been uprooted by powerful winds. There are, I think, a 
 dozen houses, called " refuges," erected by government for 
 benighted and bewildered travellers. They are not inhab- 
 ited, however ; they are merely designed as a shelter from 
 a storm or during the night, for those who lose their way 
 among these mountains. Occasionally, tall poles are fixed in 
 the earth, to mark the course of the road when covered by 
 snow, for among these precipices and cascades the least 
 misstep would be fatal. 
 
 There are two hospitals, one quite an old one, the other 
 built in 1831, for any that may be sick among these moun- 
 tains. 
 
 A»we began to descend, the road wound round and round, 
 so that we could look up and see the tops of the mountains 
 far over our heads, and their bases beneath our feet. The 
 air was cold, and it rained so fast that J. and I had to betake 
 ourselves to the inside of the carriage, we both having 
 mounted on the outside in the morning, that we might have 
 a good opportunity of seeing the country. Indeed, J. walked 
 a great part of the way, so completely was he '"' carried 
 away " by the grandeur of the scene. 
 
LETTERS. 229 
 
 As we came farther down, the earth began to assume a 
 new aspect. Other trees than the pine appeared, grass be- 
 came quite high, grain sprang up, and it seemed as though 
 we were in the midst of a new creation. 
 
 " How manifold are thy works, O God ! In wisdom thou 
 hast made them all ! " Oh ! who can look upon these moun- 
 tains, ancient as the sun, the foaming torrents, the snow, the 
 ice, without saying, " God is great" ? 
 
 You may be well assured that after such a ride, we were 
 somewhat fatigued, and that after entering the record of the 
 the day in my journal, I was glad to seek my bed. We were 
 obliged to be called early this morning, as we had quite a 
 journey before us, but now we are once more at rest. From 
 Brigg here, the road has been through the valley of the 
 Rhone, by the side of that stream, which has poured alono- 
 its noisy, babbling waters, with almost irresistible force. On 
 each side of us have been lofty mountains shining with snow, 
 whose cold blasts have come so fiercely upon us, that, wrap- 
 ped in coats and cloaks, we have shivered with the cold all 
 day, and yet it is the first day of July. 
 
 At noon we stopped at Torteman, where was a fine water- 
 fall, bursting out of a gorge in the solid mountain, and fall- 
 ing in a large body to the depth of one hundred and fifty 
 feet. Just after we left that, we came to another fall, not so 
 powerful, but more beautiful, the water gliding over the 
 rocks, and falling down like a light veil of gauze, or like 
 snow-flakes. It was really beautiful, so soft, so flowing, so 
 gentle, so finely contrasted with the scenery around, which 
 was of the wildest cast. Besides these, there were other and 
 smaller cascades, dashing down the mountain sides, and 
 filling the air with their noisy merriment. Sometimes the 
 hand of man has been able to snatch from nature a little 
 piece of ground, but generally mountains and glens seem 
 to be in their pristine wildness. 
 
 The women look neat and clean, and all without excep- 
 tion, out doors and in, wear a little straw hat, covered with 
 20 
 
230 LETTERS. 
 
 some kind of silk or ribbon. They have fairer complexions 
 than any we have lately seen, and are exceedingly courteous. 
 All the people we meet, both men and women, greet us, the 
 men bowing and touching their hats, saying, " Bon jour, 
 monsieur," (good morning, sir,) and the women kissing their 
 hands. We have met several beggars, mostly children. 
 They would run along by the side of the carriage, with 
 clasped hands, only occasionally unclasping them to kiss 
 them, or to point to their mouths, in token that they were 
 hungry. 
 
 And now, after this long epistle, you will permit me to 
 rest awhile. As ever, yours. 
 
 GENEVA; July 5th. 
 My dear Friend: 
 
 Our national festival has passed by without our being able to 
 notice it, except by just speaking of it. Through our banker 
 we were invited to-partake of a dinner to be given on "the 
 fourth," by the Americans at present in the city, but it being 
 Sunday, we " respectfully declined." The moment we ar- 
 rived at the hotel, we despatched one of the waiters to the 
 banker's, to see if we had letters. We could not wait for 
 the gentlemen to dress and go, as by that time banking hours 
 would be over, and then we should have been obliged to have 
 waited till this morning. But what a rich treat to us ! The 
 messenger returned with three letters. We stopped in the 
 midst of the operation of unpacking, to read them and get 
 the news from home, dear home. But in my eagerness to 
 tell you these things, I have quite forgotten to speak about 
 our journey hither, so I mu§t go back a few days. 
 
 We stopped Friday night at St. Gingoulph, on the Lake of 
 Geneva. For the first part of the day, our ride was like that 
 
LETTERS. 231 
 
 of the day before, through a valley having lofty mountains on 
 both sides. Afterwards, the asperities of nature softened 
 down, the fields began to assume a more verdant and fertile 
 look ; meadows of rich grass and grain, and several vine- 
 yards, gave variety to the scene. The vine is cultivated here 
 in the same manner as in France. 
 
 At last we came in sight of the beautiful Lake of Geneva, 
 its blue waters looking so calm and lovely, that it well merits 
 all the praise so liberally bestowed on it by poets and paint- 
 ers. The weather became milder, so that we could venture 
 to have the carriage windows open. 
 
 We were then under the king of Sardinia; but we had 
 no trouble with our baggage, for our name of Americans 
 seemed to have a charm connected with it, for as soon as we 
 told who we were, our trunks were left untouched. Our pass- 
 ports, however, were rigorously examined, but so much pains 
 have we spent on these, that no flaw can be found in them. 
 We were generally detained about a half hour at each town 
 through which we passed, while they were being examined, 
 and when brought back to us, the officer would politely 
 touch his hat, and ask for his fee, that he might drink our 
 health, and if it was not in proportion to his expectations, 
 he would have no hesitation to demand more ; nay, we have 
 sometimes known one of them to run a half mile or more 
 after us. Dignified, surely ! 
 
 We enjoyed a fine walk last evening, along the lake side, 
 breathing the mild air, and inhaling the fragrance of the new 
 mown hay. All were employed, men, women and children ; 
 all seem born to work. It is astonishing to see what basket 
 loads and what bundles of hay the women and children will 
 carry on their heads and backs. Some assign this as the 
 cause of those dreadful swellings on the neck. 
 
 I told Francesco yesterday that the women in the United 
 States did not work in the fields as in this country. He 
 seemed surprised, but said that here many of the men go 
 into the towns and become waiters in hotels, and many are 
 
232 LETTERS. 
 
 soldiers, so that the women must work, or else nothing would 
 be done. So industrious are they that we saw many knitting 
 as they went home from the fields. 
 
 We begin to feel almost at home, as we hear French 
 spoken all around us. We had a real pleasant, sociable 
 landlady at St. Gingoulph. I soon got into her good graces, 
 by praising the bed-curtains, which were made of white 
 cambric, ruffled around the border. With much seeming 
 pride she told me that she made them herself, and pointed to 
 the blankets as being of her own manufacture also. 
 
 Once more we are in Switzerland, the land of high 
 
 mountains and deep vales, the land of lakes and foaming 
 
 torrents, the most beautiful and picturesque country in the 
 
 world ; in Switzerland 
 
 " The nurse of liberty, 
 The home of the gallant, great and free." 
 
 From St. Gingoulph here, we passed through an enchant- 
 ing country, fertile and well watered. Apple, cherry, 
 chestnut and walnut trees we saw in abundance. The 
 meadows were beautiful, some laden with the ripening grain, 
 others covered with the sweet smelling hay. All the day 
 we were in sight of the lake, whose waters are of the most 
 charming blue imaginable. 
 
 We are at the Hotel I'Ecu, where all the waiters speak 
 English. The fashionable hotel of Geneva, where most of 
 the English travellers stop, is the " Bergue," where every 
 thing is served in fine style, all the waiters being obliged to 
 appear at table in white gloves. But we chose a more 
 humble abode, and find all things to our liking. 
 
 Yesterday morning we attended church in the chapel of 
 the hospital, where we heard the best sermon we have heard 
 since we left home. 
 
 After dinner we walked out beyond the gates. We passed 
 the church in which Calvin formerly preached. Ah ! far 
 different are the doctrines now inculcated from that pulpit, 
 than those preached by the great reformer. 
 
LETTERS. 233 
 
 A deep wide moat, filled with the blue waters of the 
 Rhone, runs around the walls of the city. It is enclosed 
 between high banks, which are covered with grass, and 
 planted with trees. We wandered along through shady 
 lanes, till we came to a cemetery, having over the gate in 
 French, the texts, " Blessed are the dead who die in the 
 Lord ; they rest from their labors, and their works follow 
 them ; " '* He that believeth on me shall live, even though 
 he were dead." We soon found it was a Protestant 
 ground, the tall crosses of the Romish cemetery, we saw 
 towering over the wall, which divides the two. It was too 
 late for us to visit that, so we confined our attention to the 
 first. This ground is rather pretty ; the graves are planted 
 around with flowers, and shaded by fine trees. We saw 
 many women with water-pots in their hands, on their way 
 to tend the flowers on the graves of their loved ones. I can 
 but repeat what I have before said, that to me it is a touch- 
 ing custom, thus to invest the graves of the departed with 
 those emblems of light and loveliness. 
 
 On our way home we met crowds of people in the 
 streets. We passed a tent in which were two live serpents 
 for show. On a stage in front were musicians who were 
 vigorously playing, while men, women, and children were 
 pouring in to behold the curiosities. This I hardly expected 
 in Protestant Geneva. 
 
 This day we have spent in looking about this city. We 
 do not find it situated according to previous expectations, as 
 we always imagined it lay directly on the lake, which spread 
 out in full expanse before it ; instead of which, it lies on the 
 narrowest part of the lake, so that but little of it is seen 
 from the town. In fact, it is more upon the Rhone which 
 runs through a part of the lake, than on the lake itself. 
 From our windows, we look out upon the river, which runs 
 by with its rapid, noisy, current ; beyond that we see the 
 lake, calm and placid, its banks green and beautiful. 
 
 We rode this afternoon to Ferney, Voltaire's villa. It 
 20* 
 
234 LETTERS. 
 
 was a charming ride; the environs of Geneva are really 
 beautiful. The land is highly cultivated, and rich as a 
 garden. We passed fine country seats, the grounds well 
 laid out. Near every house were seats under a tree, where 
 each family was assembled, engaged in various avocations, 
 and enjoying the grateful shade. 
 
 The immediate approach to the villa is through an 
 avenue of grand old trees; the house itself is plain. Two 
 rooms only are shown, in which all things remain the same 
 as when occupied by Voltaire. The walls of the bed-chamber 
 are lined with faded blue silk, the old-fashioned chairs 
 covered with the same. The hangings of the bed were once 
 like the furniture, as several tattered remnants show ; but 
 alas 1 such is the rage for relics, that almost the whole of it 
 has been carried off in " piecemeals," by travellers. 
 
 Around the room were several portraits, among which I 
 saw one of Washington. In the other room, a kind of 
 saloon, are several pictures, the most conspicuous of which 
 is one representing Voltaire presenting a copy of his Henri- 
 ade to Apollo, while some nymphs are carrying other copies 
 to the Temple of Fame, and others are driving his enemies 
 down to the lower regions. It is said that this was designed 
 by Voltaire himself ; if so, it shows his insufferable vanity 
 and egotism. 
 
 An old man, tottering under the weight of near fourscore 
 years and ten, showed us around the grounds, which were 
 prettily laid out. He was fourteen years old when Voltaire 
 died, and had then been living five years in his service. I 
 do not know but that he told us some interesting anecdotes 
 of " the great man ; " if so they were entirely lost upon us, 
 for from his want of teeth he spoke so indistinctly, that it 
 was impossible for us to understand much that he said. He 
 showed us through a long arbor, made by the hornbeam 
 intersecting itself overhead, where the poet, the historian, 
 the satirist, used to walk every morning from nine till 
 twelve. There were several openings in the side, whence 
 
LETTERS. 235 
 
 were seen beautiful views of the country, backed by *' old 
 Mont Blanc," which latter, however, we did not see, as it 
 was obscured by clouds. At the end of the arbor was a 
 bench, on which Voltaire used to sit while he wrote. It is 
 broken and despoiled of many goodly fragments, no doubt 
 carried off by the bed-curtain " hookers." For my own 
 part, I had not the slightest wish to take any thing, not even 
 a blade of grass, as I have no particular respect for the 
 character of so gross an infidel, however great were his 
 intellectual abilities. Among the trees, a large elm was 
 pointed out to us, as planted by Voltaire's hand, and great 
 was the indignation of our old cicerone, because a visitor 
 who was there at the same time with us, dared to doubt it. 
 We did not enter the little church built by Voltaire, as it is 
 now used as a woodhouse ! 
 
 On our ride back, we stopped before a chateau, and 
 walked through a fine park, to behold the junction of the 
 Arve and the Rhone. It is really a curious sight, for the 
 Rhone is of a clear blue, and the Arve of a muddy white. 
 Both flow with a swift current, and both seem to try their 
 utmost to see which shall gain the ascendancy, and the 
 longest preserve its individual colors. At last, however, 
 they both mingle into one, and the Arve is lost in the 
 Rhone. Here we were told was a magnificent view of 
 Mont Blanc, which assertion we took in faith, not being 
 able to see it ourselves, being hidden by the mists. After 
 we came back, we rode around the city. There are few 
 public buildings worthy of note, but many of the private 
 houses are really elegant, and there is a beautiful botanic 
 garden. The principal shops are filled with jewelry ; indeed 
 every second or third shop shone with watches and trinkets, 
 the Geneva workmanship in gold, being celebrated all the 
 world over. 
 
 We have packed up our trunks, and to-morrow, with 
 simply a carpet-bag, we start on our excursion to Chamouni. 
 I am heartily tired of this packing and unpacking. I shall 
 
236 LETTERS. 
 
 be glad when we get back to Paris, so that we can have our 
 other trunk, and then we shall not be obliged thus constantly 
 to tax our ingenuity, in stowing away many articles in the 
 smallest possible space. 
 
 When we return from our mountain trip, I shall again 
 write ; so for the present adieu. 
 
 Geneva, Thursday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Wearied with our excursion which occupied three days, 
 and lame from riding, I seat myself to write to you. Fa- 
 tiguing as this trip was, it has been one of the most inter- 
 esting that we have taken. 
 
 At six o'clock on Tuesday morning we started in a 
 *' caleche," a sort of barouche with a top that could be put 
 up or let down at pleasure. Two or three miles from Ge- 
 neva, our passports were called for and rigidly scrutinized, 
 but we had taken the precaution of obtaining the Sardinian 
 minister's signature, before leaving Geneva, for which im- 
 portant thing we had to pay four francs. However, many 
 a poor wight has been obliged to go back to Geneva, for 
 failing to have his passport thus countersigned ; and I have 
 heard of one who prevailed on the officer to allow him to go 
 on, sending his passport back for the requisite signature, 
 for which privilege when he returned, he had the pleasure 
 of paying five dollars ! And all this trouble, because we 
 pass through a little corner of the king of Sardinia's do- 
 minions. 
 
 While waiting to have our passports examined, we found 
 the time any thing but tedious, for we were amused at a 
 little scene that occurred. 
 
 A man passed our carriage ; the officer darted upon him, 
 punched his sides, felt in his pockets, took off his hat ; 
 
LETTERS. 237 
 
 showing in such demonstrations of his zeal for his country's 
 weal that he was determined to allow of no smuggling, not 
 even in those little articles, that might be conveniently car- 
 ried about the person. But the face and air of the man 
 who was undergoing this surveillance, were worthy all 
 praise. Not a shade of surprise, not a look of anger, crossed 
 his features, but he stood the very picture of patience and 
 submission. 
 
 Our ride to St. Martin's occupied us several hours, but 
 we found it far from tedious, as it was through a fine coun- 
 try. Near Geneva the scenes were soft and beautiful, but 
 after we left that city several miles behind us, they became 
 wild and grand. Mountains stretched their lofty summits 
 around us, seeming to block our way ; the noisy Arve dash- 
 ed by us, and cascades darted down the mountain sides, 
 roaring and tumbling along as though chased by a super- 
 natural power. 
 
 The cdtaract of Aspenaz falls eight hundred feet, and 
 though at the top it seems like a large body of water, yet so 
 great is its fall, that before it reaches the rocks below, it 
 dies away in mist. In the early morning there had been 
 quite a heavy rain, and in this land of torrents and moun- 
 tain streams, the slightest shower produces its quick effects. 
 In two places we found the road almost impassable. 
 Large stones had been swept down by the force of the 
 water, filling up the road, while the mud and clay were so 
 thick, that our wheels sank in to their hubs. Men, women 
 and children had collected " en masse " to repair the breach- 
 es, their pantaloons, petticoats, &.c. tucked up over their 
 knees, their bare feet and ankles black with the mud in 
 which they stood. 
 
 All along, the peasants seemed industrious and civil ; all 
 that passed us greeted us with a " bon jour." Many were 
 the children that followed us with cherries, tumblers of 
 milk, and pieces of minerals to sell. I bought a dish full of 
 nice large cherries, and to gratify a little boy's importunity, 
 
23S LETTERS. 
 
 Mr. D bought another: but \o ! his, like many other things 
 in the world, turned out to be a hoax, for only those at the 
 top were good lor any thing. The women and girls wear 
 little black silk caps, with a frill o( black lace around the 
 front. The complexion is quite fair, and most of the peas- 
 antry, particularly the children, would be very tine looking, 
 were it not for those terrible " goitres," which so disfigure 
 them. The women in going to and from the tields, and the 
 little girls tending their cows and goats, all had their knit- 
 ting work in their hands. 
 
 At St. Martin's we left our carriage and took another 
 called a " char a banc."' Imagine a small, low carriage, 
 somewhat semicircular, and resembling a sofa set on wheels, 
 and you will have about as good an idea of this carriage as 
 I am able to give you. There is but one seat, so that we 
 were obliged to sit sideways. The entrance is by a door in 
 the side. It is really the most curious looking vehicle I 
 ever saw in all my life. There is no seat for the driver; 
 he rode one of the horses, which were at least six feet ahead 
 of the carriage. He was dressed in a short-tailed black 
 coat, trimmed with red and yellow, and had on boots which, 
 after approved postilion fashion, came up over his knees. 
 
 In this little " concern " we three, with our coats and 
 cloaks and carpet-bags were packed, yes literally packed, 
 for it required no little calculation and fixing to get stowed 
 just right. Six leagues we rode in this thing, jolted and 
 jammed almost beyond endurance ; and yet we could not 
 help laughing and joking at each other's expense. We 
 amused ourselves with wondering how our worthy relative, 
 
 Mr. , would get along with his long nether extremities, 
 
 till we finally came to the conclusion, that he would have to 
 put them through the door. But then a new difl5culty arose ; 
 the vehicle was so low thev would dandle on the ground, so 
 the only way that we could fix it was, that he would be 
 obliged to put his feet on moving stilts. 
 
 But this ride, fatiguino- as it was, had its charms. The 
 
LETTERS. 239 
 
 scenery was wild and grand beyond description. Mountains 
 towered above us, causing our eyes to ache as we attempted 
 to scan their heights ; mountains frowning with " dark pine 
 groves" and rocky battlements; mountains, noisy with the 
 babbling brook and waterfall. Numberless cascades dashed 
 over the road, making it dangerous to cross. Nevertheless 
 we did cross, and over many too, for I counted no less than 
 thirteen in a little while. I saw one man carrying his 
 bridge on his back, in the shape of a plank, which when he 
 came to one of these places, he put across the stream, 
 walked over on it, and then deliberately shouldered it and 
 went onward. 
 
 For several miles our way led up steep hills, to our rrreat 
 surprise, as we were under the impression that we were 
 going to a valley and not up mountains. To add to the 
 wildness of the scene, a violent storrn came on, accompanied 
 occasionally by a peal of thunder, which echoed and re- 
 echoed among the mountains, hill after hill repeating the 
 sound, till it died away in the distance. 
 
 As we drew nearer Chamouni, which is three thousand 
 one hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea, we be- 
 gan to see the glaciers. How splendidly they looked ! The 
 whole side of a mountain was covered with these seas of ice, 
 or frozen cataracts, frozen in the very act of plunging down 
 to the vales beneath. I thought a^ain and acrain of Rocrers' 
 beautiful lines, so descriptive as they are of these glaciers. 
 
 *' Wave upon wave I as if a foaming ocean, 
 By boisterous winds to fierce rebellion driven, 
 Heard in its wildest moment of commotion, 
 And stood congealed at the command of Heaven, 
 Its frantic billows chained at their explosion. 
 And fixed in sculpture ; here to caverns riven, 
 There, petrified to crystal — at his nod, 
 Who raised the Alps an altar to their God I " 
 
 Occasionally, the sun would break out, lighting up a moun- 
 tain top, or a woody glen ; and then again darkness would 
 gather around, and the rain once more fall in torrents. 
 
240 LETTERS. 
 
 At length we arrived at the Union House in Chamouni, 
 unwet, unharmed, save sundry aches and cramps, arising 
 from our jolting and jamming. As soon as we got in the 
 house, we eagerly ran to a window, seeking for a glimpse of 
 Mont Blanc, "the monarch of mountains." But ah! "the 
 monarch " had wrapped himself in his " robe of clouds," and 
 naught was to be seen, not even his " diadem of snow." 
 
 All the evening the rain beat against the windows. " Shall 
 we be able to go to-morrow ? " was the oft repeated question, 
 and as often answered by a shrug of the shoulders, and a 
 " Je ne sais pas," (I do not know.) However, we ordered 
 breakfast at half past five, and requested the waiter to have 
 a guide and a mule for Mr. D. at the door, at six. As for J. 
 and myself, we determined to walk, for I had enough of 
 horseback riding at Vesuvius. The waiter assured me I 
 could walk with ease, so after a good dinner, though amongst 
 a noisy party of Germans and French, I went to bed, and 
 dreamed of the pleasure of walking up the mountains. But 
 morning came, dark and gloomy. J. rang the bell, ordered 
 breakfast at eight, and that no guide should be sent for. 
 At eight the prospect still seemed dubious. The landlord 
 was consulted, and he gave it as his opinion that it would be 
 " a bad day," which J. was disposed to receive as convincing ; 
 I not, as I knew it was his interest to keep us there another 
 day. It was likely to rain, for when does it not rain among 
 the mountains ? and I said " my voice is still for" going; 
 so while at breakfast, the guide was sent for, but to my great 
 astonishment, and to the utter annihilation of my happy 
 dreams, our landlord said it was by no means advisable for 
 me to walk ; it was too far, too fatiguing, too wet, and I 
 don't know how many more " too's," so ride I must. It was 
 with fear and trembling that I mounted my mule, which was 
 quite as large as a horse, only more sure-footed ; but the mo- 
 ment he started, I started too, declaring that I could not and 
 would not ride, and so off I jumped much quicker than I got 
 on. I walked with J. and the guide's little son across a 
 
LETTERS. 241 
 
 field, while Mr. D. and the guide who led my mule, went 
 around the road. I found the walk in the field very wet, and 
 at last I was persuaded to mount the mule once more. I 
 had a saddle somewhat like the one I had when at Vesuvius. 
 Though dreadfully afraid at first, I soon became quite com- 
 posed, and tried to divert my attention with looking round 
 and talking with the guide who led my mule. He was a 
 middle-aged man, strong and active. He spoke French with 
 a slight provincial idiom, yet I made out to understand him 
 quite well. He has been guide here for thirty years, having 
 received a license from government, and during the months 
 of July and August has been nearly every day to Montan- 
 vert. He had with him a nice little boy, only eleven years 
 old, whom for two years he has been training for a guide, 
 causing him to walk eight, ten, and sometimes twelve miles 
 a day. What an education is that for a boy ! Many a boy 
 of a larger growth, in our cities at home, would shrink from 
 a walk of half that distance. 
 
 I asked the guide how many children he had. He seemed 
 rather shy in answering, and finally said, " Oh, many." But 
 I persevered in asking how many. He said, three boys and 
 four girls, but as none of them were fools, he had none too 
 many, which I thought was a philosophical view of the mat- 
 ter. I was eager to know about the winters in these moun- 
 tainous countries. He told me that the snow began to fall 
 in September, but that it did not last long at a time, but 
 after November it never disappears till mid-spring. The 
 mountains are almost impassable, and the snow lies four feet 
 deep in the valley. 
 
 As we began to ascend, contrary to all predictions, the 
 sun broke forth, and the mists began to roll away beneath 
 our feet and from the mountain sides. Cloud after cloud 
 rolled up, till the whole valley lay slumbering beneath us 
 How lovely ! The white houses of Chamouni contrasted 
 beautifully with the green fields around. The Arve and the 
 Arveiron, which take their rise amid the glaciers, dashed 
 21 
 
242 LETTERS. 
 
 noisily by us ; the mountains lifted their craggy summits 
 around us, while our path wound up and up, round and 
 round, through "pine groves," filling the air with their 
 "soft and soul-like sounds;" and as though this was not 
 music enough for us, the roaring of the rivers fell upon our 
 ears, the faint jingling of the cow-bells stole sweetly upon us, 
 and, added to all this, an instrument, like several trumpets, 
 sent its rich tones through the valley, now dying away, now 
 swelling out boldly, each hill taking up and echoing the 
 strain, as though they " loved to prolong the gentle sound." 
 Children were driving their cows and goats to pasture, the 
 little girls having their knitting work in their hands. It was 
 a picture of loveliness, of grand and majestic beauty, seldom 
 seen. I quite forgot the stony path and my mule, which was 
 patiently threading its way among the rocks and stones, as if 
 to rebuke me for my fears. Even in this barren region we 
 passed the fringed Gentian, " flowers of loveliest blue," 
 though it was almost the only sign of vegetation around. 
 
 After two hours and a half, we reached the summit of 
 Montanvert, and came close upon " the sea of ice," which 
 stretched for miles below and beside us. 
 
 At a house here, we left our mules, and taking our moun- 
 tain poles, which were about six feet long, with an iron spike 
 at the end, we started for the glaciers, and after a winding 
 walk of ten or fifteen minutes, stood upon " the sea of ice." 
 This I dare not attempt to describe to you. I have seen it, 
 and the recollection of it will never leave me ; but one must 
 see it for himself, to judge of its overwhelming sublimity. 
 It is properly named a "sea of ice," for "a sea" it is. 
 " Wave on wave " arises, but there is no motion, no sound, 
 no roaring of the waters. The waves are stilled as though 
 in their maddest plunge they heard an Almighty voice, say- 
 ing, " Hitherto shalt thou come and no farther, and here 
 shall thy proud waves be stayed," and instantly they are 
 stayed, and thus they remain for ages. And this extends not 
 one mile or two, but for seventeen leagues, for Montanvert 
 is a part of the range of Mont Blanc. 
 
LETTERS. 243 
 
 This sea of ice is broken in all directions by crevices, one 
 of which has been sounded, and found to be three hundred and 
 sixty feet deep. We jumped over several of these chasms, 
 some a foot and a half or two feet wide. Down below the 
 surface, the ice becomes " deeply, beautifully blue," and far 
 down in its depths, we could hear the faint gurgling sound of 
 water. We gazed and gazed and gazed again, loath to leave 
 so sublime a sight. Coleridge has a magnificent description 
 of this scene, but I cannot afford room to quote it. No one 
 can look upon these glaciers without being struck with their 
 overpowering sublimity ; and the best idea one can get of 
 them without seeing them is, by imagining the ocean when 
 lashed to fury, suddenly stilled and frozen, or by fancying a 
 foaming, dashing torrent, bursting down a mountain side, 
 congealed while in the act of taking its boldest leap. 
 
 We returned to the house, and after taking a little bread 
 and milk, commenced our descent. For some distance I 
 walked, as the path was very steep, and I should have prefer- 
 red to have walked all the way, but I was afraid my strength 
 would not hold out. I no sooner mounted than I repented 
 me of my decision, for the descent seemed really dangerous. 
 Often the feet of the mule would be directly on the brink of 
 a precipice, so that my body actually hung over it, and the 
 least misstep would have been fatal ; but through the kind 
 care of Him, who has so far watched over me, I got down in 
 safety. 
 
 As we got to the foot of the mountain, the clouds disap- 
 peared from Mont Blanc, and we saw him, though but for a 
 moment, in all his glory. And oh ! how glorious he seemed, 
 as he pierced the clouds with his triple head, covered with 
 eternal snow ! It was indeed a fit footstool for Him who 
 makes the clouds his pavilion. 
 
 How we longed to ascend that grand, old mountain, but it 
 was impossible. But few travellers have ever succeeded in 
 reaching the summit, and they have represented the danger 
 and fatigue as exceedingly great, being obliged to walk be- 
 
244 LETTERS. 
 
 tween forty and fifty miles, to avoid frightful chasms in the 
 glaciers, and having to sleep all night in the open air. Be- 
 sides all these, the expense is equal to the fatigue. You are 
 obliged to have four or five guides, and each guide demands 
 forty francs a day. Our guide went up with an English gen- 
 tleman, not long ago, whose only boast was that he made the 
 trip in an hour less than any other traveller. A laudable 
 ambition, truly ! 
 
 As soon as we returned to the inn, we ordered our " char 
 a banc " to be got ready immediately, and while we were 
 waiting for it, Ave went into a shop where were minerals 
 from the neighborhood for sale. Here we saw a chamois, 
 and a beautiful animal it is too, with its soft, yet bright eyes. 
 I met with so beautiful a description of this wild goat of the 
 mountain, that I think you will pardon me for quoting it 
 entire. 
 
 " Free born and beautiful ! The mountain 
 
 Has naught like ihee ! 
 Fleet as the rub.h of Alpine fountain, 
 
 Fearless and free ! 
 Thy dazzling eye outshines in brightness 
 
 The beam of hope ; 
 Thine airy bound outstrips the lightness 
 
 Of antelope. 
 
 " On cliffs where scarce the eagle's pinion 
 
 Can find repose, 
 Thou keepest thy desolate dominion 
 
 Of trackless snows. 
 Thy pride to roam where man's ambition 
 
 Could never climb, 
 And make thy world a dazzling vision 
 
 Of Alps sublime ! 
 
 " How glorious are the dawns that waken thee 
 
 To thy repast ! 
 And where their fading lights forsake thee, 
 
 They shine the last. 
 Thy clime is pure, thy heaven clearer, 
 
 Brighter than ours. 
 To thee the desert snows are dearer 
 
 Than summer flowers." 
 
LETTERS. 245 
 
 We returned to St. Martin's by the Baths of St. Gervais. 
 The first part of the way was the same as that by which we 
 went to Chamouni, Tuesday evening ; but after we turned 
 towards St. Gervais, the mountains became if possible still 
 more wild and grand. In the midst of this vast solitude is 
 an immense hotel, where two or three hundred invalids can 
 be accommodated, the springs in the neighborhood beino- 
 considered efficacious in rheumatic and chronic affections. 
 The water is warm and is strongly impregnated with sulphur- 
 ous matter. It is conduc ^d by pipes into bathing rooms, 
 the water being used for bathing as well as drinking. Just 
 back of the hotel is a splendid cascade, which seems to 
 spring immediately out of the rocks. It has about " the 
 greatest water power," as the manufacturers would express 
 it, of any that we have yet seen. The water dashes down 
 in fury, leaping and jumping along, even after it is in the 
 valley. It is fed by the snow from Mont Blanc. Every 
 thing about the establishment at St. Gervais, looked nice 
 and comfortable. In the dining hall a table was spread for 
 eighty-six persons ; at each plate was a decanter of the 
 mineral water. In another room were card and billiard 
 tables, and out of this was an enormous parlor, handsomely 
 furnished and well supplied with newspapers, and in this se- 
 cluded spot we read the latest American news. 
 
 The ride to St. Martin's was delightful. The wildness 
 of the scenery suddenly disappeared, smiling fields, covered 
 with grass and grain, backed by green mountains, varied 
 the scene. Soon after leaving St. Gervais, we chanced to 
 turn our heads, when a sudden exclamation burst from us of 
 "Mont Blanc, Mont Blanc!" Yes; there it was, more 
 grand and beautiful than we had before seen it. For an 
 hour we saw it lifting up its snowy summit, tinged by the 
 rays of the declining sun, till it seemed a cloud of fire. It 
 looked as though it had power to stay the sun, so long as 
 he seemed to hover o'er his whitened head, so lovingly he 
 lingered there. We looked and looked, determined to feast 
 oi* 
 
246 LETTERS. 
 
 our eyes with gazing, while the mount was in sight. The 
 farther we went from it, the more distinct it grew, till the 
 whole of the three peaks came in view. By and by the red 
 tints faded away, and then it became so white, so pale, that 
 it seemed still more shadowy, more sublime. Contrasted 
 with the green summits around, it lifted its hoary head to 
 the clouds, piercing " them as with a wedge." Still it fol- 
 lowed us, till we reached St. Martin's, and as I ascended to 
 my room, and stood by my window, there it was looking as 
 pure as ever. And when I laid my wearied limbs on my 
 bed, and long after my eyes were closed in sleep, it kept its 
 solitary watch, as though it was a signal light set there by 
 Him, who bringeth out the stars, and calleth them all by 
 their names. 
 
 We left St. Martin's quite early this morning, and right 
 glad were we to get into a carriage where we had space 
 enough for our feet. The morning was excessively cold, 
 quite as much so as it is with us in December, though it 
 grew milder as the sun came up, and we got farther down in 
 the valley. We had grand views of Mont Blanc, and many 
 a "longing, lingering look," we turned to get the last view. 
 Cold as it was, we had the carriage top down, as long as 
 " the monarch of mountains" was in sight. It is very sel- 
 dom that travellers who stay but a few days in the neighbor- 
 hood get such glimpses of " sovran Blanc," as we were 
 favored with. 
 
 I felt completely exhausted when we arrived here, though 
 while on the way I was so excited by the grandeur of the 
 scenes, that I was not aware how far I was taxing my 
 strength. But I doubt not a night's gccd rest will completely 
 restore me. Good night. 
 
LETTERS. 247 
 
 Thun, July 14th. 
 My dear F. : 
 
 We have been so busy since I last wrote, that I have had 
 no time to write to you, so now you must let me give my 
 record of the past, in somewhat of a journal form. Our 
 journey on Friday was from Geneva to Lausanne, through 
 a rich and smiling country, among orchards and vineyards. 
 We passed by the largest vineyard we have yet seen. It 
 was on the side of a mountain, and extended three miles in 
 length. Y/e passed through pretty little villages, and by 
 beautiful country seats. 
 
 Lausanne is situated on the slope of a mountain, at a 
 little distance from the Lake of Geneva. We stopped at the 
 " Hotel de Gibbon," a new hotel, in fact an enlargement of 
 the very house in which Gibbon wrote his Roman history. 
 Our rooms commanded a fine view of the lake. 
 
 A ride of twelve hours took us to Fribourg. The whole 
 of the day it rained " pouring," but the country people 
 whom we met on their way to and from market, did not 
 seem to mind the rain any more than we did. The country 
 was very fertile, we did not see one barren spot during the 
 whole distance. 
 
 Fribourg is romantically situated on both sides of a small 
 river, which runs between high banks, in many places almost 
 perpendicular. There are several bridges thrown over the 
 stream. In many places the banks are so steep, that one is 
 obliged to descend by means of steps and ladders. 
 
 Among the bridges over the river are two suspension 
 bridges, one of which is the longest bridge of the kind in the 
 world. It is nine hundred and five feet long, twenty-eight 
 wide, and is one hundred and seventy-four feet above 
 the surface of the water. It is suspended on four cables of 
 iron wire, each containing one thousand and fifty-six wires, 
 the united strength of which is capable of supporting four 
 times the weicrht which it will ever be likely to bear, or three 
 
248 LETTERS. 
 
 times the weight of two rows of wagons extending entirely 
 r cross it. The cables enter the earth obliquely on either 
 side of the bridge, and extend some ways under ground. 
 The materials are almost entirely Swiss, the workmen, with 
 the exception of one man, were natives who had never seen 
 such a bridge before. It was completed in three years, and 
 cost six hundred thousand francs. Its strength was proved 
 by the following means. One hundred and fifty pieces of 
 artillery, drawn by fifty horses, and accompanied by three 
 hundred people, collected in as compact a body as possible, 
 passed over, and no sensible oscillation was produced. A 
 few days afterwards, the bishop and authorities of the town, 
 accompanied by two thousand persons, passed over it twice 
 in procession, with a military band keeping step, and then a 
 slight trembling of the bridge was perceived. 
 
 On Sunday morning we attended service in the Cathedral. 
 As soon as we entered we were aware that a change had 
 come over the aspect of affairs, that we were no longer in 
 papal France or Italy. Seats were arranged across the 
 church, and as we slowly walked up the aisle, a soldier came 
 to us and respectfully asked us to seat ourselves. I could 
 understand nothing of the service, but it was conducted with 
 much solemnity and decency. One priest went around with 
 some bread, and another wearing a splendid fur mantle, with 
 a contribution plate. 
 
 We heard some grand music, from, some say, the most 
 magnificent organ in the world. It was played but little 
 during the service, but after the congregation had retired, 
 the organist played for our gratification, our hotel keeper 
 having sent him word that there were some strangers in the 
 church who would like to hear the organ. Now think not in 
 the simplicity of your heart, that the organist was actuated 
 by a pardonable wish to exhibit his own powers, or those 
 of the instrument. Far from it. He demands as his fee for 
 extra playing eleven francs, but where there are several per- 
 sons, it makes but a small sum for each to give. For our 
 
LETTERS. 249 
 
 own part we paid our proportion very cheerfally, for never 
 before did we hear such music, and scarcely may we ever 
 expect to again. Outwardly it is a beautiful instrument, and 
 the power and variety of its tones are unequalled. Several 
 different pieces were played ; one represented so perfectly a 
 choir singing, that J. insisted upon it that there must be per- 
 sons sinofincr in the gfallery, though not an individual but the 
 organist was to be seen. All the parts were distinctly heard, 
 from the deep tones of the bass, to the soft, clear notes of a 
 female voice. Yes, and it seemed even as though we could 
 hear the words, so perfect was the resemblance. Then 
 came a tempest. I actually held my breath, and fancied that 
 I could hear the rain beating against the windows, and the 
 wind howling, while the thunder rolled over our heads and 
 shook the church. Instinctively we turned towards the 
 window, to see if there had been any change in the weather 
 since we entered the church, as it was then bright sunshine. 
 
 Then came a heavy clap of thunder, which broke directly 
 over our heads. We started from our seats in dismay, and 
 saw around us the frightened looks of our company. It was 
 sublime music. How much I wished that some of our 
 musical friends in P , could have heard it. 
 
 The organ was built by Mosser, a citizen of Fribourg. 
 It has sixty-four stops, and seven thousand eight hundred 
 pipes, some of them thirty-two feet long. 
 
 Our next stopping place was Berne. We approached the 
 city by a road lined with trees, and through gates, guarded 
 by two large bears, which, by the way, are the arms of the 
 city. The streets run parallel to each other, and are quite 
 wide and clean. Through the three principal streets runs 
 a little stream of water, about two feet wide, walled in on 
 both sides, and in two of the streets covered over on the 
 top. In some of the streets there were fountains, in the 
 basins of which the Bernese women were washing clothes, 
 vegetables, tubs, &/C. Nor were infants wanting to vary the 
 .scene. They lay in their little cradles around the fountains, 
 
250 LETTERS. 
 
 and were apparently accustomed to this out-door living, as I 
 heard no crying from any. 
 
 Of all costumes that I have yet seen, (for each canton 
 has its peculiar costume,) that of Berne is the most singular, 
 and well deserves a lengthened description. The skirt is 
 of any color one chooses, and is generally bound around 
 the bottom with red, the waist and sleeves are white, the 
 waist high in front. Over this is worn a black bodice, low 
 in front, but high and narrow behind. The sleeves are of 
 moderate size, and begin at the top of the shoulder. From 
 the elbow to the wrists, cuffs are worn of colored cambric 
 or calico. But the head-dress exceeds the whole. It is a 
 cap of black lace, silk, or velvet, with a border in front of 
 black lace, fall a quarter of a yard wide. In some cases, 
 this is plaited and starched stiff, and stands up straight from 
 the forehead ; in others it is free from all stiffness, and falls 
 like a veil over the upper part of the face. In either case 
 it has rather a grotesque appearance. 
 
 The houses are built on arches like those of Bologna, 
 but far superior, the pillars being altogether of stone. The 
 shops are fine, and many of the houses would not dishonor 
 Paris. The greatest curiosity to us, was a clock in a small 
 tower in one of the principal streets. As I never before 
 saw any thing of that kind, you will pardon me for giving 
 it considerable attention. In a niche near the face of the 
 clock, is a large fellow dressed like a Turk, seated in a 
 chair, and holding in one hand an hourglass, and in the 
 other a little sceptre. Over his head is another figure, 
 holdinof in his hand a club : over each of his shoulders 
 hangs a small bell. Beneath the old Turk is a procession 
 of small figures, among which are an elephant, a donkey, 
 and a man on horseback. On one side of the Turk is a 
 small *' rooster," which just before the clock strikes, claps 
 its wings and crows, the little figures then walking round, 
 each one disappearing within the building, and re-appearing 
 in its turn, till the whole have been round, and come back 
 
LETTERS. 251 
 
 to their usual places. While this is going on, the figure on 
 top strikes with his club, first one bell, and then the other, 
 till the hour is counted, moving first one leg and then the 
 other, at each stroke. Then the crower claps his wings and 
 crows again, and the Turk turns the hourglass in his hand, 
 and with his little sceptre keeping time, counts the hours, 
 his lips moving, and his mouth opening at each number. 
 Once more a " crow" is given, and then the whole perform- 
 ance was ended. As it was twelve o'clock when we were 
 there, we had a fine opportunity to see it. How complicated 
 must be the machinery for moving all these figures. We 
 were anxious to get inside to see it, but the man who has 
 charge of it was not to be found. 
 
 We next turned our steps museum-ward, passing by the 
 cathedral, a handsome stone edifice in the true Gothic style, 
 and stopping at a fine promenade shaded with large walnut 
 trees. At a distance one hundred feet below us, flowed the 
 river Aar, which runs through a part of the town. To our 
 regret we found the museum closed, so we strolled leisurely 
 along on our homeward way. 
 
 We are now at Thun, a picturesque little village, on the 
 lake of the same name and on the river Aar. We stop at 
 the Hotel Bellevue, which stands in the midst of a beautiful 
 garden. We chose an upper room, that we might see the 
 lake and the surrounding country at our pleasure. As soon 
 as we deposited our boxes and bundles, enlarged by collec- 
 tions of minerals and dried flowers, we started off for a 
 walk. We went by a narrow path up a high hill to a little 
 pavilion. It was a delightful walk, under large trees which 
 shaded us from the sun, while the birds carolled blithely 
 over our heads. We wound round and round, now up a 
 steep path, now up long flights of steps, and then coming to 
 an open place where we had glimpses of the scene below, 
 till we reached the pavilion. What a scene was there spread 
 out before us ! No picture ever equalled it. The little lake 
 with its clear blue waters, surrounded by mountains, some 
 
252 LETTERS. 
 
 bare and craggy, some green and fertile, and others far in 
 the distance, lifting up their icy heads above the clouds ; 
 meadows, the light green of which contrasted so well with 
 the dark green of the trees, thickly spread over them, the 
 willows and the poplars planted by the lake side, the white 
 houses peeping out in every direction, the meandering Aar, 
 its sparkling waters seen, now here, now there, the pic- 
 turesque village with its high, dark roofs, these all, seen 
 under a brilliant sky, by the crimson glow of the setting 
 sun, presented a scene fairer than ever dream pictured. 
 Then came rich music borne on the breeze, now swelling 
 out, now gently dying away, till the sweet sounds were no 
 longer heard. We were enchanted, and could have staid 
 there hours, and we thought all our labors and fatigues were 
 amply repaid by a scene so lovely. 
 
 Yesterday we went on board the little steamer that plies 
 on the lake, and made the usual excursion to the end of the 
 lake, and back again in the afternoon. The boat was full of 
 tourists, the most of which were English. In fact, the hotels 
 are full of English people every summer ; no less than four- 
 teen families are boarding at our hotel. Their expenses are 
 six francs a day for each person. There are five different 
 houses connected with the Hotel Belle vue, all of which are 
 full. The accommodations are good, the table excellent, and 
 the waiters all speak English. Indeed, we have met with 
 more persons who speak English, since we have been in 
 Switzerland, than in all the rest of our travels. 
 
 But to the lake. It is about ten miles long, and is encir- 
 cled by mountains, some almost perpendicular, presenting to 
 the eye naught but bare rocks ; others are covered with trees 
 and shrubs, while others still slope gently down, their sides 
 clothed with goodly pastures. 
 
 When we landed we took a carriage and rode several 
 miles to the Falls of Stubbach. We passed through the vil- 
 lage of Undersee, the funniest looking place I ever saw. 
 The houses look as though built in the year one. They are 
 
LETTERS. 253 
 
 black, and have high roofs, projecting several feet over the 
 sides and front. There are no chimneys, but the smoke 
 comes out of an aperture in the side. 
 
 Adjoining this is the village of Interlachen, so called be- 
 cause it lies between two lakes. It consists of but one street 
 about a mile in length, shaded with large trees. The houses 
 are filled with English boarders. In fact, the village is called 
 an English colony. From this place to the falls, the country 
 was wild and grand. Our road lay through a narrow valley, 
 beside a babbling stream, overhung with lofty mountains, 
 cataracts every where leaping down their sides. But why 
 should I repeat what I have said a dozen times ? All these 
 are the characteristics of mountain scenery. This cascade 
 falls about eight or nine hundred feet, and I am almost ready 
 to say, that it is the most beautiful fall we have yet seen. 
 The water floats gently down in sheets of spray. It comes 
 over the rocky side of the mountain, which is almost perpen- 
 dicular. It is really astonishing to stand beneath and look 
 up ; it seems as though a cloud were falling from on high. 
 
 Two peasant girls sang very prettily for us, while we were 
 at the falls. They had light hair, turned back from their 
 foreheads, and braided down behind. 
 
 On our return to the boat it began to rain, as usual. Who 
 ever spent a day among the mountains without seeing rain ? 
 After we came back to the boat, there was such a violent 
 shower that we were obliged to betake ourselves to the cabin. 
 It lasted, however, thanks to the changeableness of the cli- 
 mate, but a short time, and soon a beautiful rainbow appear- 
 ed, which we hailed as the blessed sign of promise. 
 
 After dinner, we strolled out through the village, and 
 crossed over two or three bridges to the opposite side of the 
 lake, and wandered along its margin, beneath the drooping 
 willows. It is a charming spot, this little village and its envi- 
 rons, and we should much like to stay here some time, but 
 the traveller must take ''onward" for his mctto. And so 
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254 LETTERS. 
 
 we leave Thun and its lovely lake, and hereafter they must 
 be to us as the " things that have been." 
 
 Once more we are on the move. The trunk and bags 
 have disappeared, and I am wanted ; so in great haste I quit 
 you. 
 
 Rheinfall, Saturday. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 Through richly varied landscapes, and by short and easy 
 stages, we have reached this place. Our attention has been all 
 absorbed by the scenes through which we have passed. True, 
 we miss the magnificent works of art of Italy, but after all, 
 is not nature superior to art? If the other parts of Switzer- 
 land be like what we have seen, since we entered her bor- 
 ders, I marvel not that her children love her. I have often 
 thought of what one of our steerage passengers in the Bur- 
 gundy said to me in Havre. " Oh," said he, '* in a few days 
 I shall see Switzerland, my beloved Switzerland, with its 
 high mountains and green vales ! Oh, I can't find words to 
 express my joy !" And his eye kindled, and his cheek glowed 
 as he spoke. A young physician told me that when he re- 
 turned to his native land, after studying two years in Paris, 
 his joy was so great on once more seeing that dear Switzer- 
 land, that as soon as he had passed the frontiers, he threw 
 himself upon the ground and kissed the earth, saying with 
 tears, " Oh, my native soil, do I see thee once more ? " Thus 
 it seems with all the Swiss; their love for home is proverbial, 
 and surely if ever there were scenes calculated to win and to 
 fix love, they are to be found in Switzerland. Would you 
 seek the lofty and sublime? Survey her everlasting hills, 
 climb her snow-capped mountains, view her fields of ice, her 
 frozen torrents, her silent cataracts; wander through her 
 wild ravines and mountain gorges, and look (for there you 
 cannot go, there naught but the wild goat strays,) up her 
 
LETTERS. 255 
 
 shelving rocks and craggy precipices. Do you long after 
 the soft and beautiful ? Roam over her bright fields, beneath 
 her green trees, by her quiet lakes, midst her happy peasants, 
 and say if your heart is not content with the glorious scenes 
 spread out before you. 
 
 But to return to our journey hither. We were at Luzerne 
 on Thursday, but it rained all the time we were there, so 
 we saw nothing of the town nor of the lake, except a little 
 spot that could be seen from the windows of the hotel. We 
 intended ascending the Rhigi mountain in the afternoon, and 
 sleeping on its summit that night, in order to get the sunrise 
 view from that elevated spot, said to be unrivalled. But 
 after waiting till two o'clock, we decided that it was altogeth- 
 er too stormy to undertake such a trip, so we gave up the at- 
 tempt. It was the first time since we commenced our trav- 
 els, that we were hindered by the weather from undertaking 
 any excursion on which we had previously fixed. 
 
 We stayed that night at a small inn at Knonou, a little 
 village, but where we had most excellent accommodations. 
 In fact, all the inns in Switzerland are conducted on the 
 best plan, and every thing is nice and clean. From my 
 window at Knonou, I was amused by watching the prepara- 
 tions going on for our dinner. When I saw a man going 
 towards a little stream with his rod and fishing apparatus, 
 I began to despair, and thought that if he had no better 
 luck than some of our amateur fishermen at home, we might 
 have to wait a long time for our dinner. But soon he re- 
 turned with a fine large trout, and I was forced to confess 
 that either he had more skill, or that the fish were more 
 easily caught than with us. Various were the goings to and 
 from a store-room opposite the window, and diverse were 
 the articles brought therefrom. Soon a faint cackling was 
 heard, which suddenly ceased, proclaiming that there was 
 one chicken the less in the world. Then there were wafted 
 to my olfactory nerves, sundry smells, which declared in 
 tones, (no, I mean odors,) not to be mistaken, that fish. 
 
256 LETTERS. 
 
 l)eef, and fowl, were in different stages of cooking. I, then 
 being no longer in doubt about my dinner, joined the gentle- 
 men below. On entering the room, how surprised and 
 pleased was I to see it hung around with views of our own 
 goodly city of Philadelphia. AVhen the waiter (who I after- 
 wards found was the master of the house himself) came in 
 to prepare for dinner, I asked him where he got those en- 
 gravings. He told me they were sent to him by a brother 
 who hud been ten years in Philadelphia. I sent for Fran- 
 cesco to come in, and then explained the dirterent views, 
 pouring into their greedy ears more information concerning 
 that city and our own country, than they probably ever 
 heard before. They were particularly interested in the ac- 
 count of the institution for the blind, and seemed as if thun- 
 derstruck when I told them there was a way invented to 
 teach them to read. Then I told them of the deaf and 
 dumb, and of that prodigy, Julia Brace, the deaf, dumb, 
 and blind girl, which account they often interrupted with 
 various expressions of surprise, wonder and admiration. I 
 talked nearly an hour, (you know I am fiimous for long sto- 
 ries), till I exhausted all my French, explained all the en- 
 gravings, and whiled away the time till dinner was ready. 
 The lecture on the arts and sciences of America being fin- 
 ished, I sat down to my dinner with what dear used to 
 
 call a '* ferocious appetite." 
 
 On Friday noon we reached Zurich. From Thun there 
 the country was pleasant and interesting, but the road was 
 bad. The hills assumed a less bold and prominent appear- 
 ance, and sloped gently away, covered with pine woods, 
 verdant pastures and extensive vineyards. 
 
 Zurich is beautifully situated on a lake of the same name. 
 It is a large town, and has considerable business. There 
 are some fine looking houses. We went to the church 
 where Zuinglius, the reformer, formerly preached, but we 
 could not get in. We visited the public library, which 
 contains sixty thousand volumes. Here were busts of La- 
 
LETTERS. 257 
 
 vatcr, Pcstalozzi, and Hush, and portraits of Zjiintrlius and 
 his daughter, of BuHcnarius, tutor to I^ady Jane Grey, and 
 of sev(;ral of th(; reformers ; also manuscript l(;tters in Latin 
 from Lady Jane (irey to her tutor, written in a clear liand, 
 and doubtless in very good Latin, thougJi I did not take 
 mucli notice of that, as I left that language behind me when 
 I left school. 
 
 After dinner we took a walk to apart of the old ramparts, 
 which is a fnie promenade, planted with trees, and com- 
 ujanding an extensive view of the towri and the adjoining 
 country, of the lake; and th(^ rtiountains around. There we 
 ling(!red an hour, watching th(; last movements of the declin- 
 ing sun, and the changing shadows flitting over " fair Zu- 
 rich's waters," now lighting th(;m up, now casting a veil 
 over their charms. How prettily looked the little villages, 
 studded along the hanks, with their clust(trs of white houses, 
 and their litth; sj)ir(!s pointing u[>ward ! And long after the 
 valley was cast into shade, the snow-capped suimnits of the 
 distant mountains were crimsoned with the parting beams 
 of the god of day. 
 
 For the last two days we have been in cantons, where 
 German is altogether spoken, and such a jablxiring of hard 
 words! I think it almost equals the Russian. The houses 
 are the queerest looking things you can imagine. All have 
 the gabh' ends towards the road, and the roof projects (jight 
 or ten feet over the front and the sides. Between the differ- 
 ent stories, galleries run across the front, and the whole 
 space between them is fdled with windows. A portion of 
 the house is duly set apart fcir the horses, cows, and pigs, 
 while the hens and chickens are often seen peeping out of 
 the garret windows. There is invariably a large heap of 
 manure in front of the house, which, howevcT much it may 
 contribute to the health and cleanliness of the iidiabitants, 
 is not remarkably agreeable to the passers by. 
 
 Between Zurich and this place, we saw whole fields of 
 poppies raised for the rrianufacturc of oi)ium. In this vicin- 
 22* 
 
258 LETTERS. 
 
 ity the houses are equally unique with those we have before 
 seen. They are plastered on the outside only between the 
 beams, which are left bare, and painted blue, red, or brown, 
 making a house look as if it was covered with patchwork, 
 and as though the rain had washed down from the roofs in 
 streaks, now touching here, now there. 
 
 And of all people to smoke, I think these German Swiss 
 exceed all. I rather "guess" they go ahead of some of 
 our smokers at home. Not a man do we meet without a 
 pipe in his mouth, not such as our grandfathers used, but 
 pipes two or three feet long. Whether any of the feminine 
 gender smoke or not, I can't tell ; I have not yet seen any. 
 
 As we neared this place, the roaring that we heard pro- 
 claimed the immediate proximity of the falls of the Rhine, 
 [nstead of stopping at Schaffhausen, as most travellers do, 
 we came on to this little village, which is much the nearest 
 to the falls. As soon as we selected our rooms, and ordered 
 our dinner, we went out on an " exploring expedition." At 
 the foot of the falls the river makes a bend ; around this is a 
 pretty walk, and from this spot we took our first sight of the 
 falls. The view here is very fine, the falls being directly 
 before you. The river leaps, not over a perpendicular pre- 
 cipice, but over a gentle slope, a distance of eighty feet. 
 The width is between six and seven hundred feet, but at 
 different intervals, dark rocks rise up which break the fall, 
 so that there seem to be two or three separate falls. The 
 waters are perfectly white with foam, and the spray rises up 
 and dances about like fairy forms. The hills around are 
 not very high; one rises almost perpendicularly from the 
 river, but the sides of the others are covered with vineyards, 
 and dotted with houses. 
 
 We crossed the river below the bend in a small boat, 
 which sped over the clear, green waters *' like a thing of 
 life." At the base of the hill near the falls, a little gallery 
 is built out, and there, washed by the spray, and stunned by 
 the deafening roar, you have a grand view, if indeed the spray 
 
LETTERS. 259 
 
 does not blind your eyes, so that you cannot see. Here 
 wrapped in an oil-cloth cloak, I stood and gazed upon the 
 mountain of waters which rushed past me, leaping up in 
 fantastic forms, till my brain grew almost giddy. Then we 
 went up higher, where we had another view, and then higher 
 still, till we reached a little pavilion at the top of the hill, 
 and the whole lay at our very feet. Here we sat and watched 
 the foaming water, and listened to the bass drum, sounding 
 from the depths below, as if calling upon the water with 
 stentorian tones to battle with the rocks, and to make them 
 all give way for it to pass. In the bottom of one of these 
 rocks, a grotto has been worn, and through it the water 
 rushes and boils and breaks against the sides, as though it 
 could brook no opposing element, and doubtless, after a few 
 more years, the rocks will no longer impede, but they too 
 will be carried down the rapid stream. 
 
 The keeper of the pavilion told us that many who have 
 seen Niagara say that it is inferior to this. Our national 
 feeling was at once roused, and we denied the statement, 
 and said that Niagara was as superior to the falls of the 
 Rhine, as the falls of the Rhine are superior to some petty 
 cascade. True, Niagara has not the immense width of the 
 Rhine, but then the falls of the Rhine want the depth, the 
 precipitous fall, the solitary grandeur, and the steep, wood- 
 covered, craggy banks of Niagara. However, there is one 
 thing in which both places are alike, viz., the high price one 
 has to pay for the different views one gets. 
 
 We lingered around the spot, taking first this view, then 
 that, till we reached our little boat, and once more landed 
 on this side. Here in front of the river in the third story 
 of a large house, is a fine camera obscura. The whole 
 scene was before us, the rushing waters and the dancing 
 spray, and all too in motion, which is an unusual thing in a 
 picture, though natural in a camera, and the illusion was 
 heightened by the roar of the water. 
 
 This is a quiet little inn, and we have one of the nicest 
 
260 LETTERS. 
 
 waiters in attendance upon us. He speaks English quite 
 well, though he told me that he had been but six months in 
 acquiring his knowledge of the language. 
 
 Sunday eve. 
 I have spent the day in my own room, quiet as I could 
 well be, with the sound of the rushing waters ever in my ears. 
 After dinner we took a walk along the banks of the river, 
 and looked our last upon the falls. We seated ourselves 
 upon a little bench, and gazed upon the scene, till every 
 feature was impressed upon our memory, never I hope to be 
 effaced. Here seemed to be a fit temple in which to worship 
 God, and we could say, 
 
 " Thy heaven on which 't is bliss to look 
 Shall be our pure and shining book ; " 
 
 while our music was the noise of the waters, not in a " still, 
 small voice," but in their wildest notes, and our hearts went 
 out in adoration to Him who made this world so full of 
 beautiful and sublime scenes. 
 
 Again, good night. As always, yours. 
 
 Pabis, July 13lh. 
 My dearest F. : 
 
 Once more we are in Paris, " dear delightful Paris," and 
 oh ! how dear it seems to us, because it looks natural, it being 
 the only place we have seen the second time. And we feel 
 now that our steps are really turned homeward. It is three 
 months since we left this city, and three months have glided 
 so rapidly away, that the past seems like a dream, a happy 
 dream, which one would wish to dream again. 
 
 But you will naturally wish to know how we got here, so 
 I return once more to Switzerland ; and oh ! I fear much it is 
 the only way I shall ever return to it. We stopped Monday 
 
LETTERS. 261 
 
 night in a little village on the banks of the Rhine. We 
 journeyed through a pleasant and a goodly land. The fields 
 were full of grain, and the reapers were busy at their work. 
 At noon we came once more in sight of the river, and we 
 followed its windings and turnings till we came to the little 
 village of which I spoke, where, though its current still 
 flowed on, we rested for the night. The banks of the river 
 were thickly settled with villages, some looking ancient 
 enough. In one we saw a ruined tower, having a tree 
 growing out of the top. The houses were the poorest of 
 any we had seen. They had thatched roofs extending far 
 down over the sides, which give a house such a dismal look ; 
 and then the part universally reserved for the hay and the 
 cattle, and the great pile of manure in front, make a house 
 look like a barn. And yet I can't help laughing to see the 
 hens and chickens looking out from the garret windows. 
 Comical, is'nt it ? Why they are thus exalted I cannot tell, 
 unless it is to keep them from the adjoining fields. 
 
 We spent the day on Tuesday at Basle, which is finely 
 situated on both sides of the Rhine. It is the largest town 
 in Switzerland, and derives much of its importance from the 
 fact that there the river begins to be navigable. Some of 
 the houses are quite handsome. The inhabitants must have 
 a great deal of curiosity, for before the windows in the 
 second story, small mirrors were fastened in such a man- 
 ner, that those within could see persons passing along the 
 street, without being seen themselves. Then the ladies have 
 a new fashion of fixing the hair ; it is drawn oflf the fore- 
 head and braided, the braid hanging down the neck, and 
 having affixed to the end long pieces of ribbon. On top on 
 each side of the head, are enormous black bows, sticking 
 up in the air like horns. 
 
 Connected with the Cathedral is the room in which the 
 famous Council of Basle was held in the fifteenth century. 
 It is now filled with fossil remains, lately found in the Jura 
 mountains, the nautilus, the amononite, as large as a coach 
 
262 LETTERS. 
 
 wheel, the pearl oyster, and some shells now only found in 
 the Baltic sea and the Indian ocean. What changes must 
 have taken place in the world since its creation ! 
 
 Near the church on a high bank of the river is a small 
 promenade thickly planted with chestnut trees. Here we 
 had a commanding view of the flowing Rhine, backed by a 
 ranore of mountains, among which lies the celebrated Black 
 Forest. 
 
 We were called on Wednesday morning at four o'clock to 
 take the steamer for Strasburg. We murmured a little at 
 being disturbed so early, and it was some consolation to 
 know that the next two mornings we should not have to go 
 through the ceremony of getting up, not being allowed the 
 privilege of lying down in the Diligence. We bade adieu 
 to Francesco and his trusty steeds, named, by the way, 
 George and Louisa, a strange coincidence rather, those 
 
 being the names of the last two scions of the family. 
 
 We really felt quite sorry at parting with him, for we had 
 employed him fifty-two days, and travelled with him nearly 
 twelve hundred miles. He would not leave till he saw us 
 and our packages safely on board the boat. 
 
 We were six hours on the river, and of all journeys 
 that we have taken, that was the most uninteresting. 
 I was very much disappointed, though indeed we were 
 told that " the beautiful Rhine " did not commence till 
 after leaving Mayence. The banks were low and marshy, 
 bordered with common willow trees. The river running 
 with a strong current was thick and muddy, and in fact the 
 only thing of interest was to see the boat cut through 
 the water. 
 
 When we stopped about three miles from Strasburg we 
 found the Diligence for Paris left at one o'clock, so we had 
 to hurry some to get there in season. Here we were sad- 
 dened by parting with our friend and fellow-traveller Mr. D., 
 he going to Germany, we to France. For three months we 
 had travelled together. We met as strangers ; not so did 
 
LETTERS. 263 
 
 we part. The common bonds of friendship are drawn tighter 
 in a foreign land, when you are surrounded by those who 
 care neither for you nor your native land. Judge then how 
 pleasant it was for us to have one who could sympathize with 
 us in our absence from our loved friends and our fatherland. 
 To us Mr. D. was like a kind father, and we deeply felt our 
 separation from him. Yet we trust, if our lives are spared, 
 to meet in our own country, and to recall the scenes we 
 passed through together.* 
 
 We took a carriage to Strasburg, and found the ride quite 
 interesting, especially when we were stopped and our bag- 
 gage trundled out of the carriage, and thoroughly examined, 
 and my nicely packed engravings tossed about, as though 
 they were of no value at all. 
 
 We regretted not being able to visit the time-honored 
 Cathedral of Strasburg, but we could not think of stopping 
 till the next day to see even that, so we got immediately into 
 the Diligence. We found the Coupe unoccupied, except by 
 one gentleman, so we took our seats there. We found our 
 companion an intelligent Frenchman, who was eager to 
 make inquiries about the United States. 
 
 We were fifty-two hours in the Diligence, stopping two or 
 three hours a day for " refreshments," and occasionally 
 getting out to walk up a very long hill. Yet I enjoyed the 
 ride. The road was excellent, being macadamized the most 
 of the way and paved the remainder. Shall I tell you how 
 well I slept the two nights I was on the road ? From eight 
 o'clock each evening till broad daylight the next morning, I 
 never woke, and that, too, when we stopped to change horses 
 every hour ! We had seven horses all the time, so there 
 
 * In revising these letters for publication, I have taken a melancholy 
 interest in recalling this dear friend to mind. He is, alas ! no longer 
 among the living. He died, not however till after the happy anticipations 
 in the above letter were realized. We often met, and as often reviewed 
 the scenes of the past. How much interest would he have taken in this 
 little work, could he but have lived. 
 
264 LETTERS. 
 
 must have been some noise in changing so many, and par- 
 ticularly when the work is done by a party of bawling 
 Frenchmen. But nothing disturbed me. With my little 
 quilted cap on my head, and leaning back on my seat, I 
 slept as soundly as though on a comfortable bed in a quiet 
 room. Do you wonder that I can travel without being worn 
 out with fatigue? 
 
 The country was variable ; sometimes cultivated to the 
 hicrhest degree, at others barren and uninteresting. We 
 passed through many towns and villages, but none of them 
 very remarkable. They all seemed filled with soldiers. 
 
 I asked our companion how many soldiers there are at 
 present in France. He said about five hundred thousand, 
 enough I should think to keep the country in subjection. 
 
 Again we were in the neighborhood of donkeys, of women 
 in caps, of beggars in abundance, following us up every hill, 
 and besieging the doors every time we stopped. At one 
 time I counted eight around the Diligence. 
 
 We are now stopping at Madame Frederic's, No. 7 Rue 
 Castiglione, very near the garden of the Tuilleries. We 
 preferred coming here to being at a hotel, as we have more 
 opportunity here to learn French. 
 
 At our banker's we found three letters awaiting us. 
 They were read with eagerness, 1 can assure you. Notwith- 
 standing I slept so soundly in the Diligence, I anticipate 
 with pleasure the luxury of a bed ; so good night to you. 
 
 Paris, Wednesday, July 28lh. 
 My dear F. : 
 
 We are now at the end of the second day of the f6tes 
 
 given in commemoration of " the three glorious days " of 
 
 July, 1830, at which time the last French revolution took 
 
 place, and Louis Philippe was seated on the throne. 
 
LETTERS. 265 
 
 Since I last wrote, we have not been out much, as some 
 time was necessarily taken up in settling the banker's ac- 
 count. In addition to this J. was sick a day or two, and I 
 have been obliged to occupy a little time in replenishing my 
 wardrobe, which, after three months' constant " wear," to 
 say nothing of the " tear," arising from so much packing and 
 unpacking, got to rather a low ebb. 
 
 We spent a part of the day on Saturday in visiting the 
 Madeleine, a beautiful church, and one that has probably 
 seen about as many changes as almost any church in the 
 world, at least for the number of years it has stood. It was 
 commenced in 1764, but the events of 1789 suspended the 
 works till 1808, when Napoleon commanded the whole 
 edifice to be taken down, and a new one to be erected in 
 its stead, in the form of a Roman temple, to be called "the 
 Temple of Glory," and to be dedicated to the grand army ; 
 but after his brief reign was over, the design was once more 
 changed. In 1816, Louis XVIII. ordered that it should be 
 completed as a church. It is not yet finished, however, 
 although the exterior is about completed. It stands on a 
 raised platform, twelve feet high, in a fine position, fronting 
 a broad street that opens on the garden of the Tuilleries. It 
 is surrounded by a peristyle of fifty-two Corinthian columns, 
 fluted, with flat surfaces instead of round. On the front is 
 represented in bold relief the Judgment. The doors are of 
 bronze, and richly sculptured, and are quite equal to any of 
 the bas-reliefs we saw in Italy. The interior, not being 
 finished, cannot be seen to good advantage. It is not 
 divided into aisles, but is one open space with four chapels 
 on each side, separated from the rest of the church by a low 
 balustrade of white marble. The pillars are of stone, 
 encrusted with marble, and are in many places covered with 
 gilding, to my eye evidence of poor taste. There are four 
 small domes, each having a circular window, through which 
 comes all the light that is admitted within the church 
 23 
 
266 LETTERS. 
 
 There are said to be some grand paintings, but tliey are 
 at present covered over, so we could not get a peep at them. 
 
 Of course one of our first walks was to the favorite 
 Boulevards. Under Louis XIV., the walls of Paris were 
 taken down, the place levelled, and a street laid out planted 
 with trees on both sides. This was called Boulevard, 
 meaning " bulwark." The houses are handsome, and the 
 shops and cafes are among the most beautiful in Paris. 
 After all, it seems to us that there is no place like Paris. 
 When we were here before, the streets seemed narrow and 
 rather dirty, but now, compared with the streets in Italy, 
 they look very wide, and remarkably clean. 
 
 And Paris is certainly superior in brilliancy and splendor 
 to any city we have yet seen. No where do we see such 
 fine rows of buildings, such palace-like looking houses, no 
 where such gaiety and display. To walk on the Boulevards 
 towards evening, to see the shops brilliantly illuminated, and 
 the gaily dressed people thronging the streets, flitting about 
 under the trees, seems more like a fairy scene, than one of 
 every-day life. With all the crowd, there is perfect freedom 
 from riot and disorder, and I think any respectable female 
 might walk there alone at any hour of the evening without 
 being molested. Police officers are in every street and at 
 every corner, and before every cafe. And yet I rarely see 
 any of them exercising their authority. It seems their very 
 presence has a restraining power. 
 
 Once more we were in the courts of the Palais Royal, and 
 we walked around again and again, almost lest in admira- 
 tion. Our frequent exclamation was, " W^hat would our peo- 
 ple at home say to this ? " Here was one shop radiant with 
 gold, silver and precious stones ; there another glittering 
 with all the fineries of the wardrobe, and a little farther, one 
 decked out with spectacles and eye-glasses, from eight francs 
 to one thousand in value. In the shop of the tailor patron- 
 ized by the Dukes of Orleans and Nemours, are clothes which 
 would cause even a well dressed man to eye with woful looks 
 
LETTERS. 267 
 
 his own habiliments. There you will see most splendid 
 dressing and study gowns, made of the richest damask and 
 cachemire, and I have often seen a single vest pattern marked 
 thirty-five dollars. 
 
 One of the most prettily fitted up shops in the whole pal- 
 ace is occupied by a saddler. You would not imagine that 
 the implements of his trade could look so beautiful. Look 
 into this nicely furnished shop. See the rows of seats and 
 the little footstools covered with crimson velvet. See the 
 little table covered with the papers and periodicals of the 
 day. For whom, think you, these luxuries are prepared ? 
 For " his most Christian Majesty," or some of his royal 
 household? Ah no ! for those simply who wish to have 
 their understanding polished, or in other words, their boots 
 blacked. Here *' my gentleman shoe-black" waits upon his 
 customers with all politeness imaginable, blandly invites 
 them to take a seat, gently raises their feet upon a footstool, 
 hands, with a flourish peculiarly his own, the last paper, 
 softly asking if Monsieur would like to see the news ; and 
 while Monsieur is engaged in reading the latest accounts from 
 Algiers, he quickly performs the duties of his office, and then 
 reasonably demands but a few sous for his labor. 
 
 Sunday morning we attended the English church, a fine 
 looking edifice, built in the Gothic style. We heard a very 
 good sermon from Bishop Luscombe, an English bishop re- 
 siding in Paris. In the afternoon we attempted to find the 
 chapel where American service was held, and after wander- 
 ing about for more than an hour, and makincr a dozen in- 
 quiries, we thought we had found it, but it proved to be an 
 English agency office. From our using the word "service," 
 our inquiries were misunderstood, so that we were directed 
 to an Intelligence office for English servants; we gave up 
 the pursuit and came home. How unlike Sunday it seemed ! 
 How little there was to designate the holy day ! The shops 
 were all open, the women attending them, dressed with even 
 more than usual neatness and taste. Laborers were at work 
 
26S LETTERS. 
 
 even upon public buildings, omnibuses, full of people, were 
 going hither and thither, and crowds were hastening out of 
 the city to see the display of water- works at Versailles and 
 St. Cloud's. All seek their amusement on Sunday. Even 
 the English people staying at our house, went to Versailles 
 to see the fountains play, which, by the way, only takes place 
 once or twice a year, and then always on Sunday. 
 
 Yesterday we had the honor of dining with his Excellency 
 Gen. Cass, our Minister at the Court of France. He is at 
 present residing at a charming country seat in the suburbs of 
 Versailles. 
 
 This morning we went to the Church of St. Roch, where 
 masses were said for the souls of those who perished in the 
 Revolution of 1830. The altar was decorated with black 
 velvet embroidered with silver, and the steps were covered 
 with black cloth. The priests and boys in the choir had 
 black robes, with white mantles over them. The officiating 
 priests were dressed in robes of black velvet, inwrought with 
 silver. The choir was nearly filled with soldiers, the mili- 
 tary band played, and every thing was conducted with more 
 than usual pomp and parade. Incense filled the church with 
 its rich odors, and there was much going to and from the 
 high altar. Of course we could understand but little, and 
 there was such a crowd, I could not see half the time what 
 was going on within the choir. I stood up in my chair 
 to get a better view, and just as I fixed my glass to my eye, 
 a soldier in the royal livery came along, and planted his gun 
 directly before me, saying in loud tones, "Descendez s'il 
 vous plait," (get down, if you please,) but I looked at him 
 as though I did not understand, and kept my position. He 
 repeated his command. I then said, " English," thinking 
 that he would let me remain on my plea of being a stranger, 
 and not understanding what he said ; but it was of no avail. 
 Perhaps if I had said "American," I might have been left in 
 undisputed possession of the chair ; but the word English has 
 no charm for them, so down I had to get. 
 
LETTERS. 269 
 
 We saw the Queen and the Princess Clementine, the 
 youngest daughter of Louis Philippe, at church. They were 
 dressed very plainly, being in mourning for the Queen of 
 Hanover. The Queen is large, and has a pleasant face ; the 
 Princess has a slender figure, a fair complexion, and a mild, 
 unassuming look. The King, T believe, never attends church. 
 He has mass daily performed in the chapel in the palace, but 
 he is rarely present. 
 
 As we found that nothing particularly interesting was to 
 be seen to-day by way of fetes, we went to the " Jardin des 
 Plants," where we spent two or three hours in wandering 
 under the shade of the beautiful lime trees, by the beds of 
 flowers, loading the air with their sweets, and in gazing 
 upon the almost countless number of beautiful birds and 
 animals there collected. I have before mentioned this gar- 
 den to you, so I will say nothing more about it, except that 
 we were much amused at seeing the crowds gathered around 
 the large cage filled with monkeys, and they seemed to be 
 much interested and excited by the gambols of these odd 
 looking and odd acting creatures. 
 
 We were not able to visit the museums connected with 
 this garden, as they were closed on account of the fetes. 
 
 On our way home we stopped at the Foundling Hospital. 
 Formerly there was near the door a box where children were 
 put, like the one at Milan that I mentioned in one of my 
 letters ; but so many children thus deposited were found out 
 afterwards to be the children of parents able to support them, 
 and so many dead infants were placed there, to avoid the 
 expense of burying them, that this box is not used at present, 
 and no child can be admitted without a certificate from a 
 commissary of police, that the parents are not able to sup- 
 port it. 
 
 There are at present three hundred children in the house, 
 
 and all these are sick, the healthy ones being in the country. 
 
 How many of those there are, I did not ask. The rooms 
 
 have little cradles or cribs arranged around the sides, taste- 
 
 23* 
 
270 LETTERS. 
 
 fully fitted up with white curtains. A sloping bed was placed 
 before the fire, on which were laid those children who needed 
 warmth. The poor little things were nearly all crying, and 
 the nurses were busy feeding them and trying to soothe 
 them ; while a nun, in her neat, simple attire, stood by a 
 laro-e kettle, dispensing the necessary articles of nourish- 
 ment. At first the scene struck me as amusing, but when I 
 looked on the wan, wo-begone face of a sick little boy, and 
 listened to the piteous wailings of the infants, some of them 
 not more than a few weeks old, my heart was moved with 
 pity, and I could not but be touched at the words over one 
 of the doors : " My father and my mother have forsaken me, 
 but the Lord has taken care of me." 
 
 In 1837 there were four thousand six hundred and forty- 
 four children admitted into this hospital ! I do think such 
 institutions, however praiseworthy in themselves, deleterious 
 in the end, since they must encourage illegitimacy ; for all 
 in Paris know that children may thus be easily disposed of 
 without any expense to their parents. 
 
 I cannot tell you how much we enjoy rambling around 
 in Paris, in the lawless manner we do, without being obliged 
 to be subject to the direction of a valet de place. We are 
 now sufficiently acquainted with the city and the language 
 to get along without a guide, except Galignani's printed 
 guide. So we go just where we please, and stay as long as 
 we like. 
 
 We visited the Pantheon, formerly the Church of St. Gene- 
 vieve, but now used for no worship whatever. It is a splen- 
 did looking building, both outside and in. It has a portico, 
 sustained by twenty-two fluted Corinthian columns ; the front 
 is decorated with bas-reliefs, but the other parts of the exte- 
 rior are quite plain. From the centre rises up the dome, 
 surrounded by thirty-two pillars. The interior is plain, neat 
 and chaste. Its form is that of the Greek cross. A colon- 
 nade, supported by handsome stone pillars, runs along on 
 both sides, and a gallery above, light'ed with semicircular win- 
 
LETTERS. 271 
 
 dows. The inside of the dome is lined with paintings. 
 Beneath the dome are bronze tablets, on which are engraved 
 in letters of gold the names of those who fell in the Revolu- 
 tion of 1830. There are no altars, no chapels; all is plain, 
 except at the head of the cross is a statue. Beneath the 
 church are vaults. In the first two or three it was quite 
 light. Here were the tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau, in 
 the style of old Roman tombs, though the guide hurried us 
 so, I had no time to notice any thing. After we left these, 
 we were obliged to use lanterns. For my life, although we 
 were in the places of the dead, I could scarcely keep from 
 laughing right out at the scene we presented. There were 
 twelve or fifteen persons present, and we had a real old sol- 
 dier, a true disciplinarian, to guide us. When he entered 
 any vault, he would make us range along on both sides, and 
 he would stand at the head of the lines, and rattle off as fast 
 and as loud the names of those who were there buried, and if 
 we started out of that line, he would instantly stop and say, 
 " Gentlemen, ladies, I cannot go on if you do not keep your 
 places." And thus we were hurried along, so that I knew 
 nothing of whose tombs we visited, excepting that I caught 
 the name of Lagrange, till I got out, and then I found by the 
 guide-book that several distinguished persons were there 
 buried. 
 
 There was a grand echo in one part of the vaults, words 
 being repeated distinctly, and the noise made by the old sol- 
 dier's cane striking upon the wall, reverberating among the 
 arches like thunder among the hills. 
 
 We came home through the " Place Carousel," (so called 
 from a great tournament held there in the time of Louis 
 XIV.,) where, seeing many people standing around, and a 
 carriage with two outriders drawn up before one of the doors 
 of the palace, we got out and dismissed our carriage, think- 
 ing that maybe the King was going to ride out, though 
 there seemed to be hardly style enough for a king. How- 
 ever, after waiting some time, we had the pleasure of seeing. 
 
272 LETTERS. 
 
 not his Majesty, but Madame Adelaide, his sister, a lady in 
 the autumn of her charms, but still showing many traces of 
 beauty, and having a sweet smile, that probably age will 
 never mar. 
 
 What a fine large square this "Place" is, surrounded as 
 it is by the Tuilleri^ and the Louvre, with its " Arch of 
 Triumph " beautifully sculptured, facing the Tuilleries. 
 When I first came to Paris, I was disappointed in these pala- 
 ces, but now I think them superb. The Louvre, seen from 
 the river, is so grand, and the whole range, compared with 
 the small palaces of Italy, looks magnificent. And then how 
 beautiful is the garden, stretching far down along the quay, 
 with its pretty walks, its splendid trees, its sweet flowers, its 
 little ponds filled with gold-fish and swans, floating so grace- 
 fully on the water, and its statuary, seen gleaming through 
 the trees: these charms, heightened by the fine old palace of 
 dark grey stone, abounding in sculpture, and the crowds of 
 people flitting here and there among the trees, make a pic- 
 ture, which one might imagine, but not often see, at least, 
 out of Paris. 
 
 And then, too, where is there such a noble range of build- 
 ings, as that front of the garden on Rue Rivoli ? — each 
 house a palace in itself, extending from street to street, 
 and supported by arches and pillars, forming one of the best 
 promenades in the world. And from Rue Rivoli, up Cas- 
 tiglione, are two more palace-like houses, each having a 
 colonnade, and further up, the street widens, and in the 
 centre of this semicircle, rises the dark column of " Place 
 Vendome," erected by Napoleon in commemoration of his 
 victories in the German campaign of 1805. It is of stone, 
 covered with bronze from twelve hundred cannon taken 
 from the Russians and Austrians. It is one hundred and 
 thirty feet high, and the pedestal, which is twenty-one feet 
 in height, is covered with bas-reliefs, representing the 
 uniform, armor, and weapons of the vanquished troops. 
 
 The column is covered with a series of sculptured figures, 
 
LETTERS. 273 
 
 winding around in a spiral form, depicting particular scenes 
 in the campaign. The whole is crowned by a bronze statue 
 of Napoleon. 
 
 From the top of this pillar a man threw himself the other 
 day, so now it is necessary to obtain permission from some 
 officer of state, before you can go up. 
 
 But I have wandered far from the garden of the Tuilleri^. 
 Let us stroll slowly back, admiring the shops in Rue 
 Castiglione, till once more we enter within the iron railing of 
 the garden. Here we waited an hour listening to the music 
 of the band, and watching the preparations going on for the 
 concert and illumination to-morrow evening, and expecting 
 to see the king come out on the balcony ; but after waiting 
 till my strength was exhausted, though not my patience (for 
 it is wonderful what patience a desire to see a great man 
 will be*get), we walked through the garden to the " Place de 
 la Concorde," and here, while we stop to gaze for the 
 hundredth time upon the beauties around us, let me describe 
 the scene to you. This ** place" is octagonal, being seven 
 hundred and fifty feet from north to south, and five hundred 
 and twenty-five from east to west. Around the sides are 
 eight small pavilions, each surrounded by an allegorical 
 figure, representing one of the eight principal cities of 
 France, viz., Lille, Strasburg, Bordeaux, Nantes, Marseilles, 
 Brest, Rouen and Lyons. Li the centre of the "place" is 
 the obelisk of Luxor, seventy-two feet high, covered with 
 gilded hieroglyphics. On either side of this is a splendid 
 fountain, composed of three basins. In the lower basin are 
 Titans and Naiads holding fishes which are spouting water. 
 From the upper basin water is thrown up into the air, which 
 falling over, meets that coming from below. These basins 
 and their pedestals are gilded, and are certainly the finest 
 fountains we have seen, unless we except the fountain of 
 Trevi, at Rome. 
 
 Around the parapet enclosing this " place," are twenty 
 columns of bronze, gilded, on top of which are lamps. 
 
274 LETTERS. 
 
 South of the " place," and just across the bridge, is seen 
 the splendid building of the " Chamber of Deputies," and 
 north, on Rue Rivoli, are two palaces, separated by a wide 
 street, at the upper end of which stands the Madeleine. On 
 the east is the garden of the Tuilleries, and on the west the 
 " Champs Elysees," or Elysian Fields, an immense park 
 s4udded with trees. Four roads intersect the place ; the 
 rest is paved in compartments. Towards the Champs 
 Elysees on lofty pedestals, are two restive horses in the act 
 of being checked by grooms ; they are admirable pieces of 
 workmanship. 
 
 Now if one wishes to see a nobler public " place" than 
 this, or to listen to sweeter music than the lulling sound of 
 the fountains, I really do not know where he will seek for it. 
 
 But after so long a ramble, and such a lengthened de- 
 scription, I am rather tired, and you must be also; so* out of 
 regard for my own strength and your patience, I stop here. 
 
 Paris, July 30th. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 We spent almost the whole of the day yesterday in the 
 Champs Elysees, where were most of the shows and per- 
 formances, and what a scene was here presented ! Beneath 
 the lofty trees, were hundreds of booths and stands and 
 tents, where were all sorts of amusements that you can 
 imagine, and more too, for you, in your sober United States, 
 can form no idea of the little gaieties and fooleries that at- 
 tract a Frenchman. How many different spectacles were 
 presented is more than I can tell. Here were feats of 
 strength to be exhibited, there a little play to be acted, here 
 a large woman to be seen, there a tall one, eight feet high, 
 here knowing animals, there a small circus, and in short, I 
 can't tell you the half Each tent had a great picture in 
 front, giving one a feeble idea of the attractions that were 
 
LETTERS. 275 
 
 within, and a band of music, each striving to play the 
 loudest to attract the most visitors. On the stands were 
 exhibited in tempting display, cakes, nuts, and fruits, and 
 each tended by an active man or woman, who were all using 
 their lungs to the best advantage, calling in politest terms 
 on the messieurs and mesdames, and on the little boys and 
 girls to come and buy. 
 
 Then there were little figures dressed up and fixed on a 
 board, for beginners in the shooting art to fire at. These 
 were so arranged that if hit in the right place, they would 
 turn a graceful somerset, to the no small amusement of a 
 number of children, among which we stood, with mouths 
 and eyes wide open, that we might lose nothing of what 
 was going on. 
 
 There were other figures which would not only turn 
 upside-down when hit, but would in their turning, touch 
 some sort of crackers, which produced quite an explosion, 
 thus adding another noise to the already discordant ones, 
 with which the air was filled. Then there were little 
 rows of plaster figures to be shot at, and great were the rav- 
 ages here seen. One was " minus " a head, another, one 
 leg, a third both, to say nothing of sundry wounds in the 
 arms, heads, and sides ; some were completely prostrate, 
 others were gracefully inclining to one side, some were on 
 their knees, while others had no knees to fall on. 
 
 Besides these interesting sights, some were throwing a 
 ring, so as to hang it on a hook ; others, circular pieces of 
 iron, to cover corresponding circles on a little platform, 
 and others still were rollmg a ball so as to knock down little 
 images, nine pins, &>c. For the most of these perform- 
 ances, you paid so much for a trial of your strength and 
 ingenuity, and if you came off victorious, you gained a little 
 cake, or mayhap two, and if you did not succeed, you had 
 the consolation of knowing that you had tried. 
 
 Nor must I forget the number of men and women who 
 had large and tastefully decorated cans fastened on their 
 
276 LETTERS. 
 
 backs, in which were various liquids denominated refreshing 
 drinks. T\yo pipes at the bottom of the can passed under 
 the arm, so that the drink could be drawn out without low- 
 ering the vessel from the back. And each one carried 
 bricrht shining pewter tumblers and a napkin to wipe them 
 out after they had been used. In the other hand another 
 tumbler was carried, to which a little piece of copper was 
 attached, which being struck against it produced a sound 
 like the tinkling of a small bell, and this was constantly 
 kept going, so that wherever I went, I heard this little tin- 
 kle, tinkle, though I was never tempted to buy the stuff it 
 foretold to be at hand. And so we strolled about till we got 
 quite tired, and then we hired chairs, and sat down, and 
 looked around, wondering if ever under the sun just such 
 another scene was presented. 
 
 After sitting awhile we took a new start, and went farther 
 along under the trees, and here we saw still different diver- 
 sions going on. A pole about one hundred feet high was 
 erected, on the top of which hung a wreath, from which 
 were suspended a silver spoon, a cup, a small watch, and a 
 pipe. This pole was plentifully besmeared with soap and 
 grease, so that it was rather a slippery task to climb it, 
 nevertheless the first who got to the top was entitled to the 
 greatest prize. Each man was allowed to carry up two bags 
 of sand. "With some of this he would rub the pole, till he 
 got it so that he could climb up a little ways, then clinging 
 round with his feet he would rub up a little higher, and so 
 on, till his sand was exhausted, though long before that, 
 many of them would come sliding down, to the infinite 
 diversion of the crowds around the pole. I do not know how 
 many tried, before the summit was reached, for I got tired 
 of looking after an hour or two, so then we walked about a 
 little while. Of course the more that tried, the less effort 
 was it to climb, as the soap and grease got well rubbed off. 
 One by one the prizes were obtained ; the last one that 
 went up, threw the wreath to the ground, and coolly seated 
 
LETTERS. 277 
 
 himself on the top of the pole, amid the loud shouts of the 
 spectators. He remained there some time, occasionally 
 relieving himself, by hanging round the pole with his head 
 down and his feet up in the air, and then standing on the 
 top, and swinging his feet and arms round, and finally, 
 ending the performance by coming down head-first like a cat. 
 
 It was three or four hours before the last prize was won, 
 so, as I told you before, I occasionally went away, and after 
 a little while returned to see the progress of affairs. Some- 
 times I hired a chair and sat down, and then I was almost 
 deafened by the shrill voices of men and women screamino- 
 '* place a louer," (places to let), telling each gentleman and 
 lady who passed by, that there were just two chairs left, 
 when perhaps there were a half dozen, till I got tired of the 
 sound, and started to go away, offering to the woman two 
 sous, the usual price, which she indignantly refused, saying 
 that in such a situation it was well worth five, so after a 
 little demurring, I yielded. 
 
 We then stopped at a little theatre, erected for the occa- 
 sion, where a company of soldiers were acting out some 
 terrible battle. Great was the noise, both from the firing of 
 guns and pistols, and the clashing of swords, and many fell 
 " wdth all their blushing honors thick upon them," but none 
 were so far gone, that they could not jump up and pull down 
 the curtain when it refused to fall. 
 
 We also entered a circus, where the price of admission 
 was but six sous (a sous is about one cent). Here we saw 
 a little girl and two or three men riding, neither perform- 
 ance, however, being very remarkable by way of agility. 
 There was a horse that would kneel down and "make be- 
 lieve " die, when ordered to, and perform many other curious 
 tricks. 
 
 All along under the trees, little temporary cafes were 
 
 erected, and the signs announced' that a " merchant of 
 
 wine" was within and ready to wait upon customers. A 
 
 table was constantly spread, with not the most inviting look- 
 
 24 
 
278 LETTERS. 
 
 ing refreshments. In other places were little furnaces, 
 where a dinner was cooked " in less than no time," and 
 where the savory smells invited the stroller by, to come and 
 taste the good things there prepared. 
 
 While sitting under the shade of one of the trees, whom 
 should we see but our former fellow-traveller, Mr. T., or 
 rather the shadow of his former self! We were right glad 
 to meet him, but sorry to hear that he had been detained 
 two weeks at Milan by a fever. 
 
 W^e came home and rested awhile before dinner, after 
 which we went to the garden of the Tuilleries to attend the 
 concert. Madame Frederic was so good as to procure us 
 tickets, hundreds of which were distributed in some manner, 
 I know not how, but without any expense. There was a 
 great crowd, and I had to stand nearly all the time, though 
 after about an hour and a half, I succeeded in getting a 
 chair. A few pieces were played, and then there was a 
 pause, as though in expectation of something or somebody. 
 And hark ! what shout is that ? " Vive le Roi ! " (Long live 
 the King.) A glass door is opened, and on the balcony in 
 front of the palace, appears the King, Louis Philippe. He 
 has on a military coat with a red sword band, and holds in 
 his hand his cocked hat. Instantly every head is uncovered, 
 and shouts rend the air. Republicans as we are, we cry 
 too, ** Vive le Roi." He bowed and smiled and waved his 
 hand as the multitudes acknowledged his presence. You 
 have seen portraits of Louis Philippe ; they are exceedingly 
 like him. He is a large man, with a pleasant, smiling face. 
 His hair which is tinged with grey, was brushed back 
 from his forehead, displaying his physiognomy to the best 
 advantage. Scarcely had I time to make these observations, 
 whenlo! another shout, *' Vive la Reine," (Long live the 
 Queen). The queen too comes, and her pleasant face is 
 lighted up with a smile, as she gracefully curtsies in answer 
 to the good wishes of her affectionate subjects. Her hair 
 is quite grey, and according to the fashion of the day here, 
 
LETTERS. 279 
 
 she does not hide it under a wig, but wears it curled as 
 though it was in its original beauty. 
 
 Again the music struck up. A tasteful orchestra had 
 been fitted up for the band, who seemed to try their very 
 best to please. It was grand music, but you will believe me 
 when I say that I was more engaged in looking at the 
 royal personages, than in listening to the music, for that can 
 be heard here any day, but kings are not always visible. 
 During the pieces, another form appeared on the balcony. 
 It was the young queen of Spain, beautiful as the daughters 
 of that fair land are reputed to be. She had a large pink 
 shawl thrown over her shoulders, and in her dark hair a 
 bunch of flowers, among which sparkled a diamond. Then 
 came the Duchesses of Orleans and Nemours, each in 
 white, with blue mantles around their shoulders, and wearing 
 head-dresses trimmed with blue. Standing modestly back 
 was the Duke of Orleans, the heir apparent to the throne. 
 This completed the group, on which I gazed, quite neglect- 
 ing the music. For the information of the females at home, 
 who have no way of knowing how kings and queens dress, I 
 have been thus particular in describing the dress of each. I 
 forgot, though, to say, that the queen of France was dressed 
 in white. It soon grew dark, aud we prepared to leave the 
 garden, but not till the orchestra was illuminated with its 
 many colored lights, and pyramids of burning lamps were seen 
 glimmering through the trees. /The most perfect order was 
 every where observed during the concert. Not a flower was 
 trampled on, not a blade of grass injured. Would the same 
 have been said if the like scene had occurred in our own 
 land ? I fear not. Nearly every man who carried a jack- 
 knife in his pocket would have left the initials of his name 
 upon the nearest tree. Reverence for public buildings and 
 public property is not a characteristic of our republicans at 
 home. We can never have parks and fine promenades, 
 because the people are not brought up with a taste for such 
 things, and know not how to prize them. , 
 
2S0 LETTERS. 
 
 But I have wandered from my subject. We left the 
 garden, and wended our way among crowds of people to the 
 " Place de la Concorde," where we got a good stand to see 
 the fireworks. In the streets around the ** place," men on 
 horseback were stationed, to see that no carriages came near, 
 so that there should be no danger of being run over or 
 knocked down. The palaces in Rue Rivoli were tastefully 
 illuminated with a bright gas-light in each arch of the 
 colonnades. But what could equal the splendor of the 
 Champs Elysees ? Thousands and tens of thousands of 
 lights of all colors, and arranged in every variety of form, 
 sparkled among the trees ; the avenue leading to the tri- 
 umphal arch shone brilliantly. When I tell you that eight 
 hundred men were engaged for more than one hour in 
 lighting these lamps, you can form some idea of the great 
 number of them. 
 
 Front of the " Chamber of Deputies," the fireworks 
 went up, and certainly never were more brilliant ones seen. 
 They were not of as many different forms as we sometimes 
 have at home, neither was there a half hour's interval be- 
 tween each one, as is often the case with us, but they were 
 so brilliant, so dazzling, and of such rich colors, and they 
 went up in such quick succession, that they seemed to us 
 superior to any thing of the kind we ever saw. Serpents 
 fought in the air in a blaze of light and amid falling stars, 
 and then the scene around was beautiful in itself and well 
 calculated to fix our earnest attention. The very sculpture 
 on the front of the Chamber of Deputies stood out in bold 
 relief, and the figures on the pavilions, around the "Place 
 de la Concorde," seemed bathed in golden light, while the 
 waters of the fountains sparkled and shone like threads of 
 silver. To heighten the effect of the noise of the rockets, 
 cannons were fired beyond the Champs Elysees. I never 
 expected to witness such a scene ; it was of itself well worth 
 a voyage across the Altantic. And then among the thousands 
 and tens of thousands there assembled, such perfect order 
 
LETTERS. 281 
 
 was preserved ; there was no noise, no bawling, no drunken- 
 ness. True, as the brilliant rockets went up, the people 
 shouted, but it was the exuberance of feeling called forth by 
 gaiety, not by unwholesome excitement, I verily believe 
 any respectable female might have stood there alone without 
 harm. One feature about these fetes particularly struck me, 
 the interest which the parents manifested in taking their 
 children from one object of curiosity to another. Look 
 where you would on the night of the fireworks, you would 
 see fathers, and even mothers, holding in their arms large 
 boys and girls, that they might see to better advantage. 
 And when the signal was given that the fetes were ended, 
 all turned cheerfully yet quietly to their homes. The 
 crowd was intense, till we got out of the ** place," then 
 different parties took different directions, and in a few 
 minutes the streets seemed quiet and almost deserted. Of 
 the hundreds of thousands of people (I use this high sound- 
 inor term without exaofcreration), I saw during the fetes, I 
 saw no one drunk or quarrelling, which I greatly fear would 
 not have been the case in our own land. And yet how much 
 do we hear of the excitability and vehemence of the French. 
 True, they are excitable, but then they are apparently just 
 as much interested in the gambols of a monkey, or the 
 movements of a puppet dance, as in the greater and more 
 noisy events of life. And it is because they enter with so 
 much zest into such simple and childlike amusements, that 
 they do not resort to such artificial stimulus or excitement 
 as is seen with us. 
 
 I can assure you I was glad to find myself in my own 
 room after the " performance of the day " was ended, for 
 you may well imagine, that after having stood up at least 
 eight hours during the day, to say nothing of my various 
 walks about, I was not a little in need of rest when night 
 came ; and so wearied have I felt to-day, that I have been 
 unable to go out but once or twice. In fact much of the 
 time has been necessarily taken up with getting the passport 
 24* 
 
282 LETTERS. 
 
 ready for leaving Paris, and making inquiries about the best 
 route and the best steamers for England. We have finally 
 decided to go by the way of Dieppe, as it is but thirteen 
 hours' ride there, while it is twenty-eight to Boulogne or 
 Calais. 
 
 In our walk this evening to Palais Royal, we passed down 
 Rue Vivienne, a fine street adorned with handsome houses. 
 In this street is the Exchange, a new and elegant building. 
 Its form is a parallelogram, being two hundred and twelve 
 feet by one hundred and twenty-six. It is surrounded by a 
 portico, adorned with sixty-six Corinthian columns. We did 
 not attempt to go inside, as we did not know the hours at 
 which strangers were admitted. 
 
 Have I before told you that the shops are mostly tended 
 by females 1 It is so long since I first wrote to you from 
 Paris, that I have almost forgotten what I did write, so if I 
 repeat any thing, please impute it to forgetfulness, not to a 
 wish to burden you twice with the same subject. But to 
 return to the women. At first I was surprised at seeing 
 them in shops of every kind, but in a country where there 
 is a standing army of four hundred thousand soldiers, and 
 particularly in France, where the terrible conscriptions of 
 Napoleon have made such ravages, how could it be otherwise 
 than that many of the avocations and employments consid- 
 ered in our country as exclusively appertaining to the male 
 sex, should here be performed by females ? They seem to 
 be industrious and quiet and polite. When not engaged in 
 waiting upon customers, they are busy sewing, and thus 
 they eke out their wages by doing embroidery and fancy 
 work. They all dress very neatly, and in exquisite taste. 
 They get a mosseline de laine dress for a franc or a franc 
 and a half a yard, a collar for two or three francs more, and 
 a black silk mantilla, trimmed with wide lace, which as you 
 look at it closely, you will see is but common lace, and thus 
 with half the expense the same class at home would be at, 
 they look much nicer and neater. Nor is this economy in 
 
LETTERS. 283 
 
 dress confined to this class of people. I have seen ladies 
 who daily ride in their carriages, attended by two or three 
 servants in livery, wear bonnets and dresses of such common 
 materials, as our ladies at home would turn up their noses 
 at. Yet such is the knack and taste of every French woman 
 of whatever class, that she looks well in any thing. Of 
 course I have no way of knowing how expensively they are 
 dressed at home or at parties, but when they appear in the 
 streets and on the public promenades, it is always in dresses 
 befitting the occasion. Will you think me enlarging too 
 much on little things, if I tell you that here almost every 
 lady is accompanied by her little lap-dog ? Sometimes she 
 carries it in her arms, sometimes it toddles along by her 
 side, attached to her wrist by a long chain, and often I have 
 seen it borne by the lady's gallant, who certainly must act 
 on the proverb, *' Love me, love my dog." 
 
 Though quite out of our course, we returned home across 
 the " Place de la Concorde," and stopped for at least 
 the fiftieth time to admire the beautiful fountains. These 
 cost government an hundred and eighty thousand dollars ! 
 Do I not betray my Yankee origin by thus inquiring the 
 price of every thing ? But public buildings and public or- 
 naments are on such a different scale here from what they 
 are at home, (ah ! there, in relation to ornamental works, 
 there is no scale at all,) that I am afraid you will not form a 
 correct idea of their elegance, unless I occasionally give 
 you an account of the expense at which they were erected. 
 
 But I have by divers windings and turnings spun out this 
 letter to a great length ; so once more adieu. 
 
284 LETTERS. 
 
 Paris, August 2d. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 I can scarcely believe that I am correct in thus dating my 
 letter, for the weather is as cool here as it is with us in 
 October. It has not been so warm since we have been in 
 Paris this time, as it was when we were here in April. I am 
 obliged to wear a thick dress and a shawl almost every time 
 I go out. I believe we have not been here a day but it has 
 rained at least once, and a gentleman told me the other day, 
 that for the last three months it had rained on an average 
 once a day. Still no one seems to mind the weather. 
 Every lady goes out just the same as though it was pleasant, 
 and for us travellers, it would never answer to " lay by " for 
 a little rain, so we have been very busy the last two days. 
 
 On Saturday we started to go to St. Denis, and never 
 having tried omnibus riding in Paris, and hearing every 
 body telling how convenient it was to go in such vehicles, 
 we thought we would go that v/ay. But on going to the 
 office in Rue Rivoli, we found that omnibuses did not go 
 direct to St. Denis, but that we should find them at the gate 
 St. Denis. Now this was at least a mile from where we 
 were, but nothing daunted, we walked on, till we overtook 
 an omnibus, which we stopped, and I asked the conductor if 
 he went to the gate St. Denis. "Yes," he said, "by cor- 
 respondence." So in we got, and no sooner were we seated 
 and our seats paid for, than the omnibus stopped, and we 
 were told to dismount, so out we jumped. Two little 
 tickets were thrust into our hands, and we were told to get 
 into another omnibus near by. This was " by correspon- 
 dence," so by paying six sous a piece, and changing only 
 once, we arrived at last at the gate St. Denis, and a beauti- 
 ful gate or rather arch it is. 
 
 While we are waiting for the other omnibus, let us take a 
 near survey of it. It is seventy-two feet high, and has three 
 arches. The central one is forty-three feet high and twenty- 
 
LETTERS. 285 
 
 five wide, and the two others are each five feet wide and ten 
 high. The whole is ornamented with rich bas-reliefs. (You 
 may not be sufficiently acquainted with the terms of sculp- 
 ture to know that " bas-reliefs," means figures standing out 
 in slight relief from a surface. Pardon this explanation.) 
 
 After waiting " a spell," and finding no omnibus coming, 
 we began to make inquiries, and then we found that we 
 must walk on a little distance to reach it. So once more 
 we started. In a few minutes the object of our search was 
 obtained, and again we paid our six sous for our seats. But 
 again we stopped. " Is it possible that we are at St. Denis? 
 Why, it is the shortest two leagues we ever knew," and we 
 began to look around for the cathedral ; but we found we 
 were there not quite so quick, for behold another omnibus 
 waiting for us ! so after taking this and riding along for some 
 distance on a wide road bordered with trees, we reached the 
 little town of St. Denis. We were obliged to get out at the 
 omnibus office, though at some little distance from the 
 church. We thought we were quite satisfied with our ride, 
 and if that was a fair specimen of the conveniency of omni- 
 buses, we did not care to try them again. After a short 
 walk, we saw the white Gothic towers of the church, and 
 soon we were treading within its consecrated walls. Oh! 
 how I love these Gothic churches ! I never tire of visiting 
 them. I never tire of walking up and down the lofty aisles, 
 of gazing upon the vaulted ceiling, the arched corridors, 
 and the painted windows, through which the softened light 
 streams richly. How much has a Romanist upon which to 
 feast, shall I say his soul ? No ! his imagination. In the 
 noblest specimens of architecture he worships, surrounded 
 by all that is beautiful in the fine arts. The swelling tones 
 of the organ steal upon him almost before he is aware, the 
 waving incense loads the air witli its perfume. A *' dim 
 religious light " pervades the church, that church conse- 
 crated to him as the resting place of holy relics, and in the 
 simplicity and fervor of his heart he offers up his devotions 
 to his God. 
 
286 LETTERS. 
 
 But to speak particularly of the Church of St. Denis. 
 Over the doorways are fine carvings ; the two towers are of 
 unequal height, the highest one having at the top several 
 pinnacles which incline inward, as though they were ready 
 to fall. The interior is neat and grand. The vaulted ceil- 
 ing is supported by magnificent pillars of white stone, a 
 gallery runs around the church, of small light arches, be- 
 hind which are the windows. In the choir the windows are 
 of stained glass, and the many colored rays of light play 
 over the fretwork of the arches with beautiful effect. All 
 the while we were there a finely toned organ was sending 
 forth its sweet notes, now swelling on the ear, now reverbe- 
 rating among the pillars, and now softly dying away. 
 
 In this church are monuments of many of the kings of 
 France, and here their remains reposed in peace, till the 
 revolution of 1790, when they were disinterred, and thrown 
 into two large trenches without the church. In 1806 Napo- 
 leon gave orders for the church to be repaired, and the 
 vaults to be restored. The monuments which had been 
 preserved in one of the museums, were brought back to 
 their original places. They are mostly in the vaults beneath. 
 In the church itself the most beautiful ones are those of 
 Louis XII. and his queen, of Henry II. and Catherine de 
 Medicis, and of Francis I. and Claude, his queen. The 
 bodies of Louis and Anne are represented on a cenotaph, 
 surrounded by twelve arches, ornamented with arabesques, 
 beneath which are statues of the twelve apostles, admirably 
 done. The whole rests upon a pedestal, sculptured with 
 bas-reliefs, representing the battles of Louis XII. 
 
 The monument of Henry II. and Catherine de Medicis 
 is ornamented with twelve columns of dark blue marble, 
 and the same number of pilasters of white marble. The 
 figures are given as lying on a bed, and the likenesses are 
 said to be admirable. The tomb of Francis I. is beautiful. 
 His statue and that of his queen, lie on a cenotaph, orna- 
 mented with bas-reliefs in delineation of the battles of Ma- 
 
LETTERS. 287 
 
 rigina and Cerisolles. An arch supported by sixteen fluted 
 pillars rises above the cenotaph, on which are five kneeling 
 statutes, representing the king and queen, and their children 
 the Dauphin, the Duke of Orleans, and the Princess Char- 
 lotte. 
 
 Let us now go down into the vaults. Here are monu- 
 ments almost innumerable. Nearly every one is surmounted 
 by a recumbent statue, generally well executed, sometimes 
 having the feet resting upon lions, sometimes upon large 
 birds, and in one or two cases upon serpents. One of the 
 statutes of a female, (I forget now whose it is) is covered 
 with a robe plaited in the most perfect manner. I have seen 
 countless robes hanging in folds, but I never before saw one 
 plaited and confined at the waist, and this was certainly as 
 perfectly executed as though done in muslin instead of mar- 
 ble. As if this was not enough to render it inimitable, 
 the whole robe was richly embroidered, the figures wrought 
 as delicately as though done with a fine cambric needle, 
 instead of a chisel. 
 
 Time would quite fail me to give you the names of all the 
 monuments ; among them are those of the earliest kings, 
 the marble sarcophagus in which Charlemagne w^as interred 
 at Aix-la-Chapelle, and in short, of all the Henrys and 
 Philipses and Charleses, and Louises, that ever sat on the 
 throne of France. I wished to spend several hours in ex- 
 amining this interesting church, but the vaults were rather 
 damp, and the man hurried us along, as though we were as 
 well acquainted with the monuments as he was. 
 
 Yesterday morning, or rather noon, for church did not 
 commence till twelve o'clock, we attended service in the 
 chapel belonging to Col. Thorn, a wealthy American resi- 
 ding in Paris. It is a nice little room, carpeted and fur- 
 nished with chairs covered with crimson cloth, and having 
 a pulpit and desk trimmed with crimson velvet. Here we 
 heard our own service with no additions or variations, ex- 
 cepting in the prayer for the President of the United States 
 
288 LETTERS. 
 
 the dueen of Great Britain and the King of France were 
 named, and the Gloria Patri was said at the end of each of 
 the psalms for the day. 
 
 We came home by the '' Hotel des Invalides," and once 
 more visited the church where Napoleon rests. We saw 
 much more of the church than we were able to see before. 
 It is small but beautiful, and is ornamented with a profusion 
 of bas-reliefs around the sides. The dome is large, and is 
 splendidly painted and gilded. It is no wonder that there 
 Napoleon wished to be buried. We were allowed merely to 
 take a glance at his tomb, as there was a crowd waiting, and 
 it was near the time for closing the church. The man who 
 acted as '* master of ceremonies " was one of the old sol- 
 diers connected with the " hotel." He kept every thing in 
 military order. We all had to go up in regular file to the 
 grate, before the tomb, and if we stopped a minute, we 
 were told to hasten, and then marshalled down again, and 
 thus dozens were waiting in procession for their time to 
 come. 
 
 I was surprised to see how much ground there was about 
 this ** hotel." Besides a large park or garden, there are two 
 or three squares where the soldiers walk, and there we saw 
 them in great numbers, some without a leg, others without 
 an arm, and others still seeming to have no wounds. 
 Among them I noticed a stout lookinor African. 
 
 To-day we have been to Versailles. The principal rail- 
 road from Paris is to this city, celebrated as having been the 
 seat of the French court in her most gorgeous days. It is 
 about fifteen miles from Paris, and we were a half hour in 
 going, though we stopped several times. We designed stop- 
 ping at Sevres, where is the celebrated porcelain manufac- 
 tory, and to visit the palace of St. Cloud, from which the 
 French court derives its name ; but we found on examina- 
 tion that our permits were for a particular day, and that to- 
 day was not the special day. 
 
 The exterior of the palace of Versailles is not very fine, 
 
LETTERS. 269 
 
 at least that part seen from the town ; it is composed of too 
 many kinds of architecture. In front is a large court. No 
 one visits the palace for its furniture, for it can boast of 
 none, the rooms being furnished only with long ottomans, 
 covered with crimson silk. There are one hundred rooms 
 open for exhibition, in which are more than four thousand 
 paintings, not pictures of imaginary scenes, of saints, or 
 madonnas, but all bearing upon the history of France, either 
 battles, or various scenes in which her kings and generals 
 bore a conspicuous part, or portraits of those kings, and of 
 foreign kings and princes, at different times in alliance with 
 the nation. This renders the palace such an interesting place 
 to visit, and one might dwell with satisfaction on each picture, 
 and from each derive much instruction. They furnished 
 amusement too, from the variety of costumes they display. 
 The robes of the kings and queens, according to these por- 
 traits, must have been rich indeed, for they abound in velvet 
 and embroideries. Even the little princes and princesses were 
 all clothed in velvet, and their cradles and cribs covered with 
 velvet, and every thing about them indicating the utmost 
 splendor. 
 
 How beautiful, how inexpressively lovely, are the faces of 
 some of the queens ! Among the many, who would not stop 
 to gaze on the sweet face of Blanche of Castile, the gentle 
 loveliness of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, the grace ol 
 Maria Louisa, and the lofty beauty of Maria Lezinska, 
 queen of Louis XV? But why enumerate? Who has not 
 read of the beauty of the former queens of France ? Who 
 has not read of the pomp and splendor of their courts ? If 
 any one needs confirmation of these things, let him visit the 
 magnificent palace of Versailles, and tread its long galleries, 
 and gaze on the portraits that in their robes of velvet and 
 ermine adorn the walls. 
 
 There are two splendid halls, one having no pictures, save 
 those on the ceiling, but having the walls lined with mirrors, 
 25 
 
290 LETTERS. 
 
 the other having in addition to pictures, busts and statues of 
 kings, members of the royal family, distinguished generals, 
 marshals and constables of France. 
 
 Nor must I forget the long galleries filled with statues 
 and monuments of all the kings, many of them similar to 
 those we saw in the church of St. Denis. Some looked so 
 funny, I could not help laughing. One queen had on a 
 bodice very tight around the waist, sleeves very small, and 
 the skirt of the dress bulging out below the waist, something 
 like the present fashion, certainly not a fine costume to be 
 represented in marble. 
 
 Besides these rooms, others are shown formerly occupied 
 by the monarchs and their families. Of these I shall only 
 mention the bed-chamber of Louis XIV. There we saw 
 the bed on which that distinguished person died. The room 
 is almost covered with gilding. On the ceiling is" a splendid 
 painting by Paul Veronese, brought by Napoleon from 
 Venice. Around the bed is a gilded balustrade ; the spread 
 and hangings are of rich embroidery, and the chairs are 
 covered with the same material. 
 
 Adjoining this room is the council chamber, which is 
 also much gilded. In it is a large centre table covered 
 with a magnificent cloth of green velvet. 
 
 In the palace is a fine, large chapel, the ceiling richly 
 painted and supported by beautiful pillars. All the seats 
 are covered with crimson velvet. 
 
 But the grounds around the palace, what shall I say of 
 them ? If I say they are the most extensive, and the most 
 magnificent of any that we have yet seen, I fear even this 
 will not convey any adequate idea of their vastness, their 
 splendor. Fine avenues of trees, rare flowers, fountains, 
 and statuary, all combine to render this a most charming 
 spot. As I told you in one of my letters, the fountains do 
 not play often. When they do, it is at the cost of twenty 
 or thirty thousand francs, the water having to be brought a 
 orreat distance. 
 
LETTERS. - 291 
 
 To the different villas erected in different parts of this 
 park, we could not gain access, so we could not see " Le 
 Grand Trianon," the favorite retreat of Louis XIV., Louis 
 XV., and Louis XVL, nor " Le Petit Trianon," connected 
 with touching interest with the fate of Marie Antoinette. 
 
 We then returned to Paris by the rail-road. A very sin- 
 gular arrangement on this road is, that the passengers are 
 all locked in the cars, so that at each stopping place no one 
 can get out without the knowledge of the conductor. So 
 prone are the French to commit suicide, that some have 
 been known to throw themselves from the cars while going, 
 to seek death in that way ; and it is to prevent this, as well 
 as to guard against being cheated out of the fare, that the 
 precaution is taken of fastening the doors. 
 
 One more letter from Paris, and then we leave it, perhaps 
 forever. As always, yours. 
 
 Paris, Aug. 3. 
 My dearest P. : 
 
 This morning we started quite early to visit some of the 
 markets, but we had not gone far before we repented of our 
 attempt, for it was raining quite fast, and the streets and 
 sidewalks were wretchedly dirty ; however, tucking up my 
 dress under my arms, according to the approved fashion of 
 French ladies, I trudged along. I dont know where the 
 proverbial politeness of the French is ; I do not see it. I 
 have never yet seen a Frenchman who would turn from the 
 sidewalk to let a lady pass, but however wet and dirty the 
 streets may be, she must step from the walk if she wishes 
 to pass by a gentleman. I have often been obliged to step 
 into a gutter, or to jump over one, to get by gentlemen, or 
 to allow them to get by me. Now if this is politeness, why 
 defend me from such, say I ; I never saw such things at home, 
 
292 LETTERS. 
 
 not even among the roughest backwoodsmen. Neither are 
 the ill manners here confined to the " gentlemen ; " if you 
 meet a servant in the street, having a large or small bundle 
 on his back, you must stand aside to let him pass, or else run 
 the risk of having your head knocked off your shoulders. 
 It is little things like these that make walking in Paris 
 unpleasant, particularly where there are narrow sidewalks 
 and dirty streets. For my part, I have got more knocks 
 and thumps in one week in Paris, than I ever got in all my 
 life in the streets at home. I get so provoked some- 
 times, that I thump back with a vengeance. Forgiving, 
 is'nt it ? 
 
 We went to the market " Des Innocens," so called, be- 
 cause it occupies the site of the former burying-ground of 
 the Church of the Innocents. It is a long, low build- 
 ing around an open court, in the centre of which is a 
 beautiful fountain ; but precious little could we see of any 
 thing but rain, mud, and a crowd of people, who were 
 making all sorts of noises, each trying to excel the other in 
 crying up their different articles, and in striving to gain 
 our attention. Here we saw vegetables and fruit in abun- 
 dance, though I think fruit is dear here, in proportion to the 
 great quantity there is always for sale. In another part of 
 the market, were potatoes and onions, in another fish, in 
 another butter, eggs, and cheese, and in still another, herbs 
 dried and fresh, and a plenty of leeches ready for appli- 
 cation. 
 
 After walking about till J.'s boots grew spotted, and his 
 pants around the bottom became almost tri-colored, and my 
 shoes looked like any thing but black kid, and my stock- 
 ings not much like black silk, we concluded to return 
 home. 
 
 J. was obliged to spend some time this morning in making 
 the final arrangements previous to leaving, and I sat down 
 to write, thinking what a nice opportunity I should have to 
 fill out my journal, but such a set of steel pens, no mortal 
 
LETTERS. 293 
 
 man, or woman either, ever had to do with ; so after scrib- 
 bling a dozen lines, each letter having to be marked over 
 and over again, before it would be a letter, and this opera- 
 tion costing me a half hour's time and labor, I gave up in 
 despair, and went out in pursuit of more pens. Having 
 bought a dozen, and thoroughly mudded my dress and my 
 new shoes, I returned home, not without stopping at the 
 corner of one of the streets, to have my shoes restored to 
 their original color. I believe I have not before noticed, 
 except in an incidental manner, that worthy class of citi- 
 zens, the boot-blacks ; they certainly deserve a more ample 
 description. At the corner, then, of the principal streets, 
 you will see the worthy boot-black leaning against a post or 
 pillar, (if there happens to be one near, if not, mayhap he 
 is seated on the curb-stone ;) before him is a little square box, 
 on top of which is a raised board in the shape of the sole 
 of a shoe. Have you by chance, in crossing the street, or 
 by a carriage passing near you, had the polish taken off of 
 your well blacked boots ? Step up here, place your foot on 
 the little box, and in a trice it is restored to its pristine ele- 
 gance and brilliancy. Within this little box the important im- 
 plements of his profession are held, and one by one in charm- 
 ing order, they are produced and used, till, with a smile of 
 satisfaction on his face, the honest blacker pronounces his 
 work *' bien." If you ask him what is to pay, he will shrug 
 his shoulders, and say, "Oh, what you please, three or four 
 sous," and with another smile of satisfaction, he pockets the 
 money, says *' merci bien," (many thanks,) wishes you a 
 good morning, and then looks out for another customer. If 
 no one comes within a few minutes, he seats himself upon 
 his box, and in a little while is fast asleep. However, he is 
 easily aroused by a needy pair of boots or shoes coming 
 towards him ; indeed I am not sure but that he smells such 
 a pair whilst yet afar off, for he often opens his eyes and 
 starts up just at the right time. 
 
 This certainly must be a lucrative trade in a city where 
 25* 
 
294 LETTERS. 
 
 it seems to be the rule to rain once a day, and the streets 
 so easily get dirty, and where each carriage in passing you 
 combines to throw a little mud upon your perhaps best suit ; 
 for I forgot to say that the boot-black has also a set of 
 brushes for clothes, so that a pair of pants or a coat may be 
 cleaned in a moment. And this reminds me of a little anec- 
 dote that I heard the other day. One of these men had a 
 dog with a large, bushy tail, which he taught him to dip in 
 the gutter, and when he saw a well-dressed man approach- 
 ing, to run quickly by him, thereby rubbing his tail well 
 against his pants. Then the boot-black would politely step 
 forward, and ask if he should have the honor of brushing 
 Monsieur's clothes, and thus he obtained a goodly share of 
 patronage. 
 
 1 wonder, by the way, what the technical term for these 
 blackers is, perhaps it is boot merchants, as every body here 
 is called merchant. If a man with a bag full of old clothes, 
 or maybe with a pair of pantaloons and one vest over his 
 arm, passes you in the street, he sings in your ears " mar- 
 chand d'habits," (clothes merchant), or if another meets 
 you bearing in his hand two old beavers, he will drawl out 
 in a nasal tone, ** marchand des chapeaus," (hat merchant.) 
 One who sells charcoal, if it is only by a thimble-full, is no 
 longer a '* charcoal man," as with us, but a " coal mer- 
 chant," while the old woman who sells cakes for a sous 
 apiece, and sugar plums and candy at the lowest possible 
 rates, is a " cake merchant," and she who on her stand 
 displays five pears, four plums, six apricots, and a few green 
 figs, is a " fruit merchant." By the way, green figs are a 
 great article here, and I like them much, though at the first 
 trial I could not endure the taste. They are soft, pulpy, 
 and very sweet. The summer has been so cold they do not 
 ripen, so they are brought green into market. The weather 
 is as much the topic of conversation here, as it sometimes is 
 among us at home, when embarrassed to know what to talk 
 about. All here look gloomy when the weather is men- 
 
LETTERS. 295 
 
 tioned. They say there will be no crops, and no wine, for 
 the grapes will not ripen. Already bread has risen, and if 
 bread is scarce, I know not what the poor people will do, 
 for it is really " the staff of life " to them. Poor things ! I 
 do not believe they taste meat once a week. I have seen as 
 I passed, men and women in the poorer kind of shops eating 
 their plain dinner. They gather around no family table, 
 but take a large junk of black bread in one hand, and a 
 piece of dingy looking cheese or an onion, in the other, 
 and this constitutes their principal meal, so that if bread 
 does rise much, they will be badly off indeed. I have seen 
 the cab drivers on their box, make their dinner from the 
 same materials ; in short, it is all that this class of people 
 ever seem accustomed to. Now and then a few roasted 
 chestnuts are considered a great luxury. These are about 
 as large as four or five of our chestnuts ; and often at the 
 corners of streets, you will see the " chestnut merchants," 
 with their little furnaces before them ready to honor the 
 demands of those who may be in need. 
 
 But I have wandered far from my steel pen subject. After 
 I returned I met with no better success. I could not find 
 out of the whole dozen, one that would make a letter, 
 so I quickly gave up the attempt to write, and began to pack 
 my trunks. J. returned about three, saying that all the 
 seats in the Diligence were taken up except the Coupe, so 
 he engaged that, and to-morrow morning we are off. So 
 now for " merry England." Good night. 
 
 Dieppe, Wednesday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 I did not expect to write to you again till we got into 
 England, but on arriving here this evening, we found the 
 steamer not yet in, so we were obliged to come to a hotel. 
 While waiting for dinner, and in hourly expectation of being 
 
290 LETTERS. 
 
 called to the boat, I use the time in writing you a short 
 letter, which is a rare thing for me, my letters being gene- 
 rally far removed from short. As we found Paris in the rain, 
 so did we leave it, and dreary and dirty were the streets, as 
 we rode through them at six o'clock in the morning, to- 
 wards " Notre Dame des Victoires," the place of our de- 
 parture. There, notwithstanding the rain, we found a busy 
 scene, a half dozen Diligences being ready to set off in 
 different directions. Hackney coaches and cabs were 
 coming and going with passengers and baggage. Soon we 
 were on our way. We bade farewell to the Boulevards as 
 our vehicle lumbered along through the almost deserted 
 streets, presenting a startling contrast to the brilliancy and 
 splendor they display in the evening. 
 
 We then wended our way through the narrow streets of 
 the suburbs. I believe I have never told you how these 
 streets are lighted. Lanterns are suspended in the air in the 
 middle of a street, by a chain passing from the second or 
 third story of opposite houses, thus lighting well the centre 
 of the streets, but leaving the foot passenger at the side to 
 grope his way as he best can. 
 
 We had for our companion in the Coupe, an interesting 
 man who spoke English very well, and who was better informed 
 on English and American literature than any foreigner we 
 have met. He seemed as well acquainted with Cooper and 
 Irving and Scott, as we did, and with our country, its moun- 
 tains, lakes, and rivers, its politics and history. He did not 
 ask us, like two young Englishmen we met at Naples, how 
 our country was governed, and what connection it had with 
 Great Britain. When they saw our surprise at the ques- 
 tions, they apologized by saying that they did not meddle 
 much with politics ! I wanted to tell them that they seemed 
 to meddle still less with history. Doubtless they were trav- 
 elling for information, for they were intelligent on every 
 other subject ; but I thought if they had staid at home and 
 studied another year, it would have profited them more than 
 going to Italy. But I have digressed again. 
 
LETTERS. 297 
 
 We were nearly fifteen hours in the Diligence. We had 
 quite a pleasant ride, as much so as a shower of rain every 
 half hour could make it, through a really pleasant country, 
 slightly hilly, well cultivated and well watered. We saw 
 immense fields of grain, seeming to struggle to get ripe, and 
 vineyards, not quite so thrifty looking as those we saw 
 further south. For several miles before reaching Dieppe, 
 we passed delightful groves, indeed I may say forests, and 
 beautiful meadows bounded by the neat hawthorn hedge. 
 
 Before leaving the Diligence for ever, allow me to call 
 your attention to the queer way in which the horses are 
 harnessed. Generally we have had seven horses, first two 
 abreast, then three, then two again. They are commonly 
 ridden by postilions, though a man calling himself the con- 
 ductor sits on top, on an elevated seat, whence he can have 
 a view of the whole establishment. It is his place to see to 
 the passengers and baggage, the postilion has merely the 
 care of the horses. But I was going to tell you how oddly 
 the horses are harnessed. One w^ill have an entire new 
 harness, the next a very old one, w^hile on a third, sundry 
 pieces of rope supply the deficiencies made by time and 
 rough usage. One will have on a collar a foot and a half 
 high, and his companion none at all. Some part of this 
 motley gear is constantly breaking, so that we rarely go more 
 than a mile or two without the postilion, with an inde- 
 scribable whoop, calling on his horses to stop, and as quickly 
 dismounting as his large, high boots will allow him to, con- 
 necting the shattered parts with rope and twine. 
 
 When we stopped at the office in Dieppe, there was such 
 a crowd as I never before saw on a like occasion. Cards by 
 the dozen were thrust into our hands, and it seemed to me 
 that I heard the names of more than twenty different hotels. 
 As I was stepping from the Diligence, a pretty little girl 
 raised her dark eyes to my face, and in a gentle, supplicating 
 voice, asked if I wanted a washerwoman. 
 
 At dinner this evening, the waiter was telling us how 
 
298 LETTERS. 
 
 many passengers were waiting for the steamer. We asked 
 him if there were any Americans (we being on the lookout 
 for Mr. T.) He said one of them talked diiferently from the 
 rest, and so he thought he must be an American. I said, 
 *' Wherein was the difference? " " Ch," said he, " he did 
 not speak so good English." He then proceeded to tell us, 
 with much self-complacency in his powers of observation, 
 that as soon as he saw us he knew we were Americans, and 
 that he informed the landlord of the fact. I asked him how 
 he knew. At first he would not answer, leaving us to infer 
 that there was a masonic sign about our nation ; at last he 
 confessed that none of them spoke good English ! So much 
 for his testimony. I could have told him, that so far as my 
 observation went, the reverse was the fact, it was the English 
 that did not speak correctly; but I did not think it of 
 sufficient consequence to continue the subject any longer. 
 Besides, I was too tired and too sleepy, and too anxious to 
 finish my letter. It is about ten o'clock, and as there is no 
 certainty what time the steamer will arrive, I shall compose 
 myself for the night, and go to sleep as unconcernedly as 
 though I did not expect every moment to be called. And so 
 good night to you. 
 
 Brighton, Friday eve.- 
 My dear p.: 
 
 At last we are in England ! No more do I hear the clatter 
 of strange tongues ; all around me a familiar language is 
 spoken, and I can scarcely realize that I am in any other 
 land than my own. Even now as I sit writing, the cries of 
 children engaged in play reach my ears, and ever and anon, 
 I catch a familiar word, such as " hurra ! " and " no play ! " 
 I do not remember of seeing in any place in France, Italy or 
 Switzerland such a gathering of children together, as I have 
 seen here assembled in the streets. When on the continent. 
 
LETTERS. 299 
 
 we often, in visiting palaces, churches or museums, caught a 
 word or two of our own language, and we would quickly 
 whisper one to another, '' they are English or Americans." 
 Even so, when we first walked out here, and heard persons 
 conversing, we would say, " hark ! they must be either 
 Englishmen or Americans," entirely forgetting that we were 
 in England. 
 
 But you will think I have forgotten too every thing else, 
 if I run on in this discursive manner, so I will quietly go 
 back to our night at Dieppe. By twelve o'clock we were 
 aroused from our sleep by the information that the boat was 
 to start at one. We quickly arose, dressed ourselves, and 
 went on board, and I was asleep in my berth before we left 
 the wharf But what a terrible rough night we had ! I 
 believe all the passengess were sick but myself I begin to 
 think that I am so tough that I can endure any thing. If I 
 come home from any excursion, "tired almost to death," a 
 half hour's rest will perfectly restore me, and then I am 
 ready to start off again. I can get up early, and I can sit 
 up late. I can eat any thing I like, and nothing hurts me. 
 Am I not the right one then to be tossed about from one 
 place to another, in all sorts of conveyances, and subject to 
 all kinds of living ? Have no fears then on my account, for 
 I never was stronger nor healthier in my life. 
 
 But I have wandered from the steamer. I lay near a 
 window, and I could see the waves dashing down upon us, 
 as though they were going to overwhelm us. I scarcely 
 ever saw it rougher when we were on the open Atlantic. 
 As we drew near the shores of England it became rougher 
 and rougher. The skylights were all closed, so that al- 
 though it was broad daylight, we were in midnight darkness 
 in the cabin. I never knew any thing so uncomfortable. 
 We could not land at the pier at Brighton, but were obliged 
 to land two miles beyond the town. There we waited some 
 time, till a train of cars coming along, we jumped in and 
 came to town. 
 
300 LETTERS. 
 
 Before leaving the steamer we were told that we should 
 not be permitted to take any of our baggage ashore, but that 
 it should be sent on after us. At Dieppe I had taken the 
 precaution to put in my pocket (a good sized one by the 
 way), the cameos and ornaments I had bought in Rome and 
 other places. Judge then of my consternation when on 
 coming out of the boat, a custom-house officer stopped me, 
 saying, "What have you in your basket?" I answered, 
 " My writing apparatus and my brushes." He held out his 
 hand, saying, "May I look in?" Although a basket made 
 of alabaster was stowed away in the bottom of it, I readily 
 gave it up. He lifted the cover, but seeing my inkstand 
 and pens, closed it again. Another question — " Have you 
 any thing foreign about you ? " Oh thought I, " I guess 
 you would think so, if you could see the trinkets stowed 
 away in my pocket." However, for once, my forethougjit 
 instead of coming afterwards as usual, came at the right 
 time, and I immediately answered, " Yes, I am a foreigner 
 myself, and all that I have on is foreign ; are you satisfied? " 
 " Yes," said the man, "you may pass." And glad was I to 
 get here where I could empty my pocket. 
 
 We were able to do but little in the sight-seeing line 
 yesterday, for it was twelve o'clock before we got here ; then 
 we ha^ to wait for our breakfast. To be sure, it was a simple 
 one, boiled eggs and dry toast. This has been our breakfast 
 for two months past. Are we not plain in our tastes when we 
 are surrounded by all the luxuries one can think of? But 
 we enjoy a frugal breakfast, at noon a slight luncheon, and 
 then at night, after the labors of the day are over, a hearty 
 dinner. 
 
 At one we were ordered to be at the custom-house, so 
 there we betook ourselves. We had to inscribe our names 
 in a book, that our turn should come in regular order. 
 Then we had to wait an hour at least. Tedious enough 
 it was too. In vain I tried to amuse myself in noticing 
 the examinations going on with others' baggage. I had 
 
LETTERS. 301 
 
 passed through the ordeal too often myself, to take pleasure 
 in seeing it inflicted upon another. We saw enough, 
 however, to lead us to suppose that our own examination 
 would be rigorous, and waited rather anxiously for our 
 names to be called. Glad was I that my gewgaws were 
 locked up in our room at the hotel. At length our turn 
 came ; and what do you think was the first question asked by 
 the officer as he stooped to unlock my trunk ? It was, 
 "How long have you been from the States?" I said to 
 myself, " How is it that I have so soon betrayed my nation? 
 Have I already been guilty of speaking in improper 
 English?" These mental queries were soon ended by the 
 officer saying, ** I knew as soon as I saw your trunks that 
 you were from the States ; they are too strong and too stout 
 to have been made elsewhere." 
 
 Then commenced the search ; it was light in comparison 
 with our expectations, but severe enough in all conscience. 
 Several times we were asked if we had " any thing against 
 the government." Now we knew that if we said "No," and 
 any thing was found in our possession subject to duty, we 
 should have to pay a heavy fine, so we were cautious in our 
 answers, and said that we had nothing as far as we knew ; 
 we had some books and some engravings, but nothing to be 
 left in England, as we were on our way home. Then they 
 said " Are the books in English ? " I answered " Yes, mostly ; 
 some are in French, and two or three in Latin." They 
 looked at my boots and my gloves, and asked if they had 
 been worn. I said " Yes," for I had taken the precaution 
 to wear at least once, a half dozen pairs of French boots, 
 and a dozen pairs of gloves, (these articles being very 
 cheap in Paris, I had laid in a supply.) At last I got out of 
 all patience with these provoking questions, and I turned 
 coolly away, saying, " You have the keys, you can see for 
 yourself what there is in the trunks." J. was so much ex- 
 hausted after his sickness the night before, that he could 
 take but little part in what was going on. Besides, I had 
 26 
 
302 LETTERS. 
 
 SO long been " spokeswoman " in France, that it seemed to 
 come quite handy. Indeed you well know that 1 am gene- 
 rally not backward in speaking my mind. 
 
 On engravings we were charged duty ; on dark ones one 
 penny, and on colored ones two pence, so that we had to 
 pay nearly four dollars. Fortunately for us they did not 
 discover the half we had, for many of them were in the 
 books, put away from dust and dirt. Now for the last time 
 the fiery ordeal has been passed ; henceforth we have nothing 
 to do with passports and examinations of baggage. It will 
 seem indeed as though we are in a strange land and amid 
 new scenes. After we came home from the custom-house, 
 we laid aside our travelling garb, and put on our next best, 
 (for you must know we made our first acquaintance with 
 England in the rain,) and sallied out to take a view of the 
 town, and a very pretty town it is too. It lies directly on 
 the sea, so that at this season it is a great place of resort for 
 bathers. The streets are quite wide, and well macadamized, 
 and the houses are really very pretty. In some streets, the 
 houses are built in one particular style. The favorite fashion 
 is what at home we call the " bureau style," having a pro- 
 jecting, semicircular front. You have one specimen of this 
 style in your own city, the house belonging to Mr. H. in 
 Westminster street. In all the houses of this style here 
 there is a little balcony in front of the second story, and 
 over this an awning. Some of the houses look as though 
 they were paved, the outside being of small round stones, 
 like our paving stones. Almost aH the houses have neat 
 little gardens in front. The street facing the beach, or as 
 they call it here "the sands," is broad and has elegant 
 houses, mostly of light grey stone. These houses are chiefly 
 occupied by boarders. I could not but gaze upon the sea 
 with loving eyes, for I thought that some of the waves 
 that came breaking in upon the beach, mayhap had kissed 
 the shore of my own native land. 
 
 You don't know what cunning little carriages they have 
 
LETTERS. 303 
 
 here ; they are perfect little barouches, only they are drawn 
 by men instead of horses. I presume they are for those 
 invalids who cannot bear the motion of a large carriao-e, 
 and that it is quite common to use them, I inferred from 
 meeting so many in the streets, and from seeing the number 
 ** forty " on one. I saw still smaller carriages, for children ; 
 these were drawn by little goats. 
 
 There are some fine looking churches in Brighton, and 
 several public gardens and squares, or not exactly " squares," 
 as they are of all shapes. Nor must I forget the royal pal- 
 ace called the "Pavilion." It is a large though rather a 
 low building in the Turkish style, I should judge from the 
 dome and the minarets that rise from all parts of the roof. 
 Though of singular architecture, I like it much. Here Queen 
 Victoria sometimes spends a part of the summer months. 
 
 But most of all do I like Brighton for its magnificent 
 sea view. The waves came in grandly yesterday. All along 
 the beach were multitudes of little bathing wagons, like 
 those we see at Newport. I should have been tempted to 
 have tried a bath myself, if it had not been so very cool. 
 
 There was a great deal of riding here yesterday, people 
 coming to the races, I suppose. The most of the horses 
 were ridden by postilions, while the groom was mounted on 
 the box, and two or three servants sat on a seat fixed behind 
 called a " rumble." 
 
 We were amused in reading the signs here. We saw 
 "Coachman to the Queen," "Chemist to her Majesty,"^ 
 " Wagon Carriers to her Majesty," " Tobacconist to his 
 Majesty," meaning I presume the late king, as Prince 
 Albert is only called " His Royal Highness." But the 
 funniest of all was " Tailor to her Majesty." Now I have 
 always heard that she wore " the small clothes," but I never 
 knew before that she had to employ a tailor to make them ! 
 
 After dinner we took another walk. The streets were 
 well lighted, and many of the shops presented quite a bril- 
 liant appearance. It was a noisy scene, and we met more 
 
304 LETTERS. 
 
 drunken men in one hour, than we have seen in all our tour. 
 The races being held here this week, may make some dif- 
 ference. There was quite a " row " before the theatre, so 
 that we had hard work to get by. This did not seem like 
 the quiet streets of France and Italy. To be sure the 
 streets of Paris are not so very quiet, but its noise is the 
 rattling of carriages and the busy tread of men, and the 
 low hum of voices, and not of idle, drunken persons. 
 
 And how strange it seems here to see so few soldiers ! 
 We saw one or two parading before the " Pavilion," but 
 how different from the hundreds one meets at about every 
 step in Paris. The uniform here is good ; scarlet jackets 
 and dark blue pants look much finer than the coarse red 
 pantaloons, and dark coats of the common soldiers of 
 France. 
 
 We have spent the most of the day to-day in witnessing* 
 the horse races. Think us not vulgar in our tastes, for 
 many of the nobility, far and near, patronize these races ; 
 nay, many of the riders of the races are noblemen. The 
 country back of Brighton rises in gentle hills, and among 
 these hills the races take place. The race course is two 
 miles long, sweeping round one of the hills. On either side 
 of the course, an enclosure is fenced off for people on foot, 
 and back of this are places for carriages. We went early 
 that we might get a good stand. I should think we walked 
 two miles in going to the ground. All along we passed 
 ^carts and tents full of gipsies, ragged and dirty. One little 
 boy followed us for some distance, trying to coax a ha'penny 
 from J., by calling him " a fine gentleman," and telling him 
 that he was " born to be lucky, for he had a lucky eye." 
 
 On the ground were numerous tents and stands, but every 
 thing of the kind seemed tame after the display in the 
 Champs Elysees. The races lasted from one till six, with 
 an interval of about three quarters of an hour between each 
 race. I had a first-rate place, and I stood there six hours 
 without sitting down. 1 dared not go away for fear of losing 
 
LETTERS. 205 
 
 my stand. You ask me how I could have had the patience 
 to have waited there so long. I answer by sayina that it 
 was something quite new to us, and therefore interesting 
 from its novelty ; besides, these races are among the char- 
 acteristic recreations of the English. Of course you cannot 
 expect me to enter into details of these sports. The horses 
 were beautiful specimens of their kind, long and slender, 
 and very fleet. The riders were dressed in fanciful costumes, 
 some in scarlet cap and jacket and white breeches, others in 
 buff and blue; all wore top-boots. The riders seemed 
 almost to stand up in the stirrups, in order that their weight 
 should be no hindrance to the speed of the horse. The 
 crowds were excited and animated, and shouted with eager 
 glee as the racers passed. In the last race the horses leaped 
 over three different fences. 
 
 During the intervals between the races, great trafficking 
 was going on. The first part of the day the loudest cry 
 was, "Cards, gentlemen, correct cards of the races," and 
 this was echoed and re-echoed from every side, sometimes 
 varied with a " Card, my lady," (to me), and to J., *' Now 
 your honor, buy this card." Then came the sellers of fruit, 
 and apples and pears were cried in every tone of voice, with 
 sundry epithets of admiration, as " Nice, mellow, ripe, 
 quite ripe, melt in your mouths." A man with an armful 
 of canes then passed, and he kept singing, *' A penny is the 
 price, a penny is the price," till I got heartily tired of the 
 sound, and was thankful to see his stock diminished; when 
 lo! he returned with a new supply, but to my great joy he 
 changed his tune to "■ Two pence for these, your honors." 
 Venders of cigars next appeared on the stage, and " Cigars, 
 gents, and a light," was all the cry. And ginger beer too 
 was offered in small bottles for a penny apiece, and soda 
 water, not at all tempting in its appearance, and a drink 
 which, though called lemonade, I felt not the slightest incli- 
 nation to taste. 
 
 At last, after standing for more than six hours, and walk- 
 26* 
 
306 LETTERS. 
 
 ing four miles, we reached our hotel, and I felt really but 
 little fatigued. And so have passed our first two days in 
 this "■ sea-girt isle." And pleasant as it is thus to be in 
 our own father-land, yet this pleasure has some drawbacks, 
 for in hearing a language spoken with which we are per- 
 fectly familiar, we hear words of profanity and vulgarity, 
 which long have been strangers to our ears. And talk about 
 the Americans not speaking the English language properly ! 
 I never heard such outlandish jargon in all my life, "^s I 
 have heard to-day, and that too from well-dressed persons. 
 
 While we were at our quiet dinner, (for we dined by 
 ourselves), we heard music. Turning towards the window, 
 we saw a young man and girl dancing on stilts. Quite a 
 novel way of dancing, but they managed their wooden sup- 
 porters with much dexterity, and it was amusing to see them, 
 after they had finished, walk around with their little cups 
 for pay ; being so elevated, they were on a level with the 
 second-story windows of the houses around. 
 
 But I have time to say no more now ; so adieu. 
 
 London, August 9th. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 It is now twenty weeks since I looked my last on your 
 dear face, and ere ten more have passed, I hope to be seated 
 once more by your fireside, where with you and all the cher- 
 ished ones I hold in my heart, we may once more enjoy the 
 pleasures of social communion. I cannot now stop to tell 
 you how much I long to see you all, for, as you plainly per- 
 ceive, I use but little space in my letters for sentiment or 
 compliments. 
 
 And now we are in London, that " great city." If as 
 some say, " First impressions are every thing," then have we 
 
LETTERS. 307 
 
 occasion to be pleased with ours, for they are very favora- 
 ble in this instance. Thus far we like this city much. 
 The streets are quite wide and very clean, and the houses 
 uniform and handsome, though rather sombre. I speak now 
 particularly of the newer and more fashionable parts of the 
 city. We are in one of the most airy and pleasant streets, 
 just out of '* Portland Place," at an excellent private board- 
 ing house, where are several Americans, and some very 
 pleasant English people. 
 
 We left Brighton Saturday morning in the stage-coach, a 
 little bit of a thing inside, not much larger than one of our 
 hackney coaches, but calculated to accommodate quite a 
 number of passengers outside. Two can sit with the coach- 
 man, three on an elevated seat behind ; besides these, seats 
 are arranged across the top. I, being totally unaccustomed 
 to ridincr on the outside, took a seat in the interior, though 
 several ladies were on top. But I repented of my decision 
 before we had gone many miles, for these coaches are hung 
 so low, that I could see but little of the country through 
 which we passed. 
 
 In riding outside, one pays but half price. I do not know 
 whether this is a general rule, it was so in this coach. J. 
 rode on the outside, so that I was quite by myself; that is, 
 there were a gentleman and an old lady inside, but neither 
 of them spoke a half dozen words. J. was quite amused 
 with a young lady who sat beside him. She was intelligent 
 and sociable, and conversed with ease and fluency. But 
 what remark do you think she made in relation to our own 
 country ? Why, that as much as she would like to see 
 America, she would not dare visit it, as the people were 
 such savages she should fear for her life ! Only think 
 of that ! I suppose she imagines that we are all Indians. 
 
 The road was good, but not so surpassingly good as ray 
 anticipations led me to expect. W^e went about as fast as 
 in the Diligence, but stopped oftener to set passengers down 
 and to take in others, and more time was consumed in 
 
308 LETTERS. 
 
 changing horses than in the Diligence. These little things 
 struck me, as I had so often heard that the roads and the speed 
 in England were unrivalled. Had I come directly from 
 home, I dare say I should have thought the roads perfect, 
 but after travelling on the excellent roads on the continent, 
 we have more exalted notions. 
 
 The country was pleasant and quite well cultivated, and 
 it had a sort of home look, more than any of the countries 
 through which v»'e have passed. The houses had a cleaner 
 and more comfortable aspect, and it seemed so rural to see 
 cattle quietly grazing in the fields. We saw no walls, no 
 fences, nothino- but hedjres. 
 
 Yesterday morning we started to find the church where 
 Mr. Noel preaches, which our landlady told us was some- 
 where near Bedford square, and, by the way, she seemed 
 surprised to find that we Americans were so well acquainted 
 with the names of English clergymen ; indeed in several 
 cases we were more conversant with them than she was, for 
 on inquiring about Mr. Melville, whose praise is in all our 
 land, she had never heard the name. 
 
 After studying out, on our pocket map of London, the 
 situation of Bedford square, we started off to find it. We 
 certainly walked two miles before we came to the square, in 
 the centre of which is a beautiful little park or garden, sur- 
 rounded by handsome houses. Indeed in all our walk we 
 passed none other ; that is, they are high, plain, substantial 
 stone houses, though all of rather a darkened hue. Many of 
 them have shops on the lower floor, which are entered by 
 the same door as the house. 
 
 We came to a church, and as it was getting late, we went 
 in, without knowing whose it was. The service was already 
 commenced ; it was read in a solemn and impressive man- 
 ner by a middle-aged clergyman, and the sermon was 
 preached by a younger, and what we at home would call a 
 foppish looking man. It was an excellent sermon, however, 
 and entirely extemporaneous, the speaker for some time 
 
LETTERS. S09 
 
 holding his little bible in his hand ; and as he would refer to 
 some passage in explanation, or confirmation of his text, 
 the congregation would follow him, nearly all having bibles 
 with them. I inquired of a lady who sat near me if she 
 knew the clergyman's name ; she said it was Hughes. As 
 this was our first acquaintance with an English church, you 
 will pardon me if I speak a little more about the manner of 
 conducting service. The church is small, but it has a 
 gallery around three sides of it, so that it can seat a good 
 many people. It was very full, the responses were well 
 made, and the singing joined in heartily by all. In fact 
 there was a printed notice at the door, requesting all the 
 congregation to unite in the singing. What would some of 
 our exclusive singers at home say to that ? 
 
 The clerk, who occupied a seat below the pulpit, had a 
 real sing-song tone, and I could scarcely keep from smiling 
 to hear him give the hymn, he drawled it out so drolly. As 
 soon as the number of the hymn was given, the organ 
 struck up, and the tune was played, and then the clerk 
 read the first two lines, and that was all he read. And well 
 that he stopped when he did, for I could not possibly have 
 heard him read more without laughing. 
 
 We came home at noon, took a little lunch, and once 
 more started for Mr. Noel's church. After a long walk, we 
 succeeded in finding it, but I could not help stopping and 
 uttering an exclamation of surprise, for it looked more like 
 one of our old brick school houses than a church. On top 
 was a little bit of a belfry, from which came the sound of a 
 tinkling bell, exactly like a school bell. The interior is 
 plain and neat. The pulpit and desk are cushioned with 
 crimson velvet. Up and down the aisles, little seats are 
 fixed against the pews, between the doors. I soon conjec- 
 tured by the thinness of the audience, that Mr. Noel was 
 not going to preach. I have not before heard the afternoon 
 service, and it sounded quite strangely to me, though I 
 know not as it is always conducted on the same plan. After 
 
310 LETTERS. 
 
 the second lesson a hymn was sung, instead of a chant, but 
 it was not from the prayer book, but from a collection pre- 
 pared by Mr. Noel himself. This sounded rather " square 
 windowy," I thought. The sermon was good, though rather 
 dull, by an oldish man who was almost bald. He is the 
 curate, I believe. The clerk wore a very rich black robe; 
 a nicer looking one even than the minister's. We met him 
 as we came out, and we asked him if Mr. Noel was to 
 preach in the evening, and he said " Yes ; " but though I 
 felt anxious to hear him, I was quite too tired to think of 
 going so long a distance again. 
 
 We passed, in our walk to and from church, a half dozen 
 parks, which certainly add a great deal to the appearance of 
 a city like London, in which some relief is needed, after 
 seeing nothing but dark-colored houses. These parks, 
 however, are quite exclusive, there being a notice over the 
 gates that no one is allowed to walk in them, but those who 
 live in the squares around them. The gates are locked all 
 the time, each family having a right to the park, keeping 
 a key. 
 
 In the morning as we went to church, we saw a commo- 
 tion in the street, and a huddling together of men, women, 
 and children. On looking up we saw a chimney on fire. 
 Several police men gathered around, and two engines were 
 quickly on the spot, though nothing in the world was to be 
 seen but a little smoke, which is certainly no novel sight in 
 London. Either the Londoners are very much afraid of 
 fire, or they are ready to run in crowds at every little thing ; 
 a little of both, I suspect to be the case. The rows of 
 houses, though so compactly built, are admirably arranged 
 for preventing fire from progressing, for between every two 
 houses it is required that there should be a wall at least 
 eighteen inches thick. 
 
 As we came home at noon we met great numbers of girls, 
 each having in her hand a pitcher or mug of beer. Almost 
 every family seemed to be thus refreshing themselves, in 
 addition to their Sunday dinner. 
 
LETTERS. 31 1 
 
 This morning on going to the banking house of Messrs. 
 Baring, J. found two letters from you, which afforded us a 
 vast deal of pleasure. After lunch, which we have here at 
 one o'clock, we went to the Zoological Garden, one of our 
 gentlemen boarders kindly giving us tickets of admission, 
 as no one is allowed to go in without a ticket from one of 
 the members of the society, and even then, each one is 
 obliged to pay a shilling. On going to the garden we passed 
 through Regent's Park, which has lately been thrown open 
 to the public. It is a most beautiful park of over four hun- 
 dred acres in extent, and is intersected by roads and walks. 
 It is a fashionable place for promenade, and here nurses and 
 children are seen at all hours of the day, as well as ladies 
 and young misses, while handsome carriages, with their liv- 
 eried attendants, are dashing here and there, adding variety 
 to the scene. In the park itself there is a good deal of 
 sameness ; here you pass along a path bordered with trees, 
 and there across a wide, open glade, covered with grass of 
 the richest green, and in some places it would seem that you 
 were actually in the country, as cows and sheep are grazing 
 near, were it not that through the trees you catch glimpses 
 of the elegant houses around the park. 
 
 The Zoological Garden is also a fashionable place of 
 promenade. " Flowers of every hue adorn the gay par- 
 terre," trees of every clime throw their grateful shade 
 around. Here, too, is almost every kind of animal in the 
 known world. I should judge the collections larger than 
 that in Paris, not more in numbers, but a greater variety of 
 species. They are all very tame, even those we are accus- 
 tomed to call the most ferocious. They would run to the 
 bars of their cage as soon as a visitor appeared, and open 
 their mouths for something to eat. The goats and deer ate 
 from our hands, the different kinds of dogs set up a furious 
 barking and yelling, not from antipathy to us, but from a 
 desire to be fed, and the very bears jumped up on their hind 
 legs, and raised their fore paws in a beseeching manner. 
 
312 LETTERS. 
 
 At the entrance to the garden are stands for bread and cake, 
 an abundance of which is bought by visitors, for the mere 
 purpose of feeding the animals. It is useless for me to give 
 you the names of the animals we there saw, for in your own 
 city you often have opportunities to see quite good collec- 
 tions. 
 
 We spent two or three hours in wandering about the vast 
 enclosure, for it was a lovely afternoon, quite like a sum- 
 mer's day. There were a great many people in the garden 
 while we were there, in fact, as I told you before, it is a 
 fashionable place of resort. In one year one hundred and 
 twelve thousand persons were admitted. 
 
 After dinner, which is at six o'clock, we started to go to 
 Paternoster Row, near St. Paul's, to Wiley and Putnam's 
 bookstore. After walking till I verily thought we should 
 never get there, we at last found the street, though it was so 
 late the office was closed. We walked at least seven miles, 
 one of our boarders, well acquainted with London, says that 
 it was nine. So you see we begin to equal the English 
 themselves in walking. I assure you that I feel tired too, 
 and as it is now near midnight, I think I may be excused if 
 I retire ; so a good night to you. 
 
 London, Wednesday. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 To say that we have been " as busy as a bee," would be 
 a faint comparison, and would convey no adequate idea of 
 the use we have made of our feet, eyes and tongues, the past 
 two days, as you will see, when I tell you where we have 
 been and what we have seen. Yesterday morning immedi- 
 ately after breakfast (don't think it was soon after sunrise, 
 we breakfast at nine,) we went to St. Paul's. We went into 
 Portland street and got into an omnibus, and were carried 
 
LETTERS. 313 
 
 the whole distance, more than two miles, for a sixpence. 
 Carriage hire is dear here, the charges being made by the 
 mile. If you go in a cab one mile, you are charged one 
 shilling sterling, about twenty-one cents our money; if more 
 than a mile, an extra shilling is put on, and so on for each 
 additional mile. This seems strange to us after our cheap 
 rides on the continent. 
 
 St. Paul's is a noble edifice, a splendid church, at least as 
 far as regards the exterior. Indeed the architecture is 
 superb, and I think the front even more impressive than 
 that of St. Peter's. It wants the open space though, in 
 front of St. Peter's, for it is seen to great disadvantage, sur- 
 rounded as it is by so many buildings. There is a beautiful 
 portico in front, consisting of twelve Corinthian pillars ; over 
 this is another supported by eight columns of the composite 
 order. On each side rises a tower, in one of which is the 
 clock, in the other the bells. Over the centre is the mag- 
 nificent dome. The east end is semicircular, and is orna- 
 mented with some fine sculpture, and at the end of the arms 
 of the cross is a semicircular portico. The whole is sur- 
 rounded by an iron railing which cost eleven thousand 
 pounds. In front of the church, within the railing, is a 
 statue of Queen Anne, holding in her hands the emblems of 
 royalty. She is accompanied by figures representing Great 
 Britain, Ireland, France and America, though like the 
 drawings in a child's first book, one must tell you their 
 names before you can find out what they are. So much for 
 the exterior, and now for the interior. It is grand, and yet 
 it does not strike the beholder with awe ; perhaps it would 
 have been better for us to have visited it before seeing the 
 churches in Italy. The whole length of the building within 
 the walls is five hundred feet. The nave is separated from 
 the rest of the church by two rows of massy pillars, and from 
 the choir by a large door of open iron work, over which is 
 the organ. The interior of the dome is painted in fresco, so 
 finely as perfectly to imitate sculpture. The choir is plain, 
 27 
 
314 LETTERS. 
 
 though rich ; the seats are of dark oak. There are no 
 ornaments in the church, no side chapels, no altars, to break 
 in upon the uniformity, but there are many monuments, and 
 the walls in several places are sculptured in bas-reliefs. 
 Among the monuments, I noticed, as particularly interesting 
 to me, those of Lord Nelson, John Howard, Sir William 
 Jones, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir John Moore, Dr. Johnson, 
 Marquis Cornwallis, and Bishop Middleton, all having 
 sculptured figures, some of them very good, others very 
 poor. Many of the officers are represented in their uniforms, 
 which, however becoming they may have been during life, 
 are not at all imposing in marble. 
 
 Bishop Middleton is in his robe, in the act of confirming 
 two boys ; the robe is wretchedly done. The monument to 
 Nelson is fine. On the top stands the naval hero leaning 
 on an anchor. Beneath, on his right, Britain is represented 
 pointing him out to young seamen, as an example and 
 a model to them. A lion guards the monument on 
 the other side. On the corners of the pedestal are the 
 words *' Copenhagen, Nile, Trafalgar," and between them, 
 figures representing the North Sea, the Nile, and the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 Howard stands trampling upon chains and fetters ; in one 
 hand he carries the key of a prison, and in the other a scroll, 
 on which is written "Plan for the Improvement of Prisons 
 and Hospitals." But I must certainly not forget one monu- 
 ment, which struck me so much that I copied the inscrip- 
 tion. " Erected at public expense, to the memory of Major 
 General, the Hon. Sir Edward Pakenham, K. B., and of 
 Major General Samuel Gibbs, who fell gloriously on the 
 8th of January, 1815, whilst leading the troops to an 
 attack of the enemy's works in front of New Orleans 1 " 
 " Fell gloriously ! " If this encomium is passed on them, 
 what epithet shall be applied to Andrew Jackson, who gained 
 the victory in which they fell? On top of the monument are 
 the two renowned heroes in their uniforms. 
 
LETTERS. 8lS 
 
 Neither would I pass by in silence a monument erected to 
 the Rev. John Spratt, which gave rise to a query in our own 
 minds, whether it was the veritable " Jack Spratt" of poetic 
 memory. 
 
 The monuments and the sculpture, and the whole of the 
 interior of St. Paul's, are in a miserable state of preserva- 
 tion. The statues are really disfigured by the dust and dirt, 
 and the floor, which is of marble, does not look as if it had 
 been cleaned since it was first laid. 
 
 As we entered the church, the pealing notes of the organ 
 met our ears. We went into the choir, where service was 
 being performed. There were several priests and boys all 
 in surplices. They were chanting at the end of the second 
 lesson when we entered. The organ is powerful and of fine 
 tone. The creed was said in such a sing-song tone, and 
 the priests and the boys chanted the " amen," and the versi- 
 cles before the prayers, in such a queer way, that really, if 
 it had not been too sacred for mirth, I should have laughed. 
 We started to go up to the dome, when we were stopped by 
 a man, and told that it would cost us four shillings two 
 pence each, nearly two dollars, to see all the different parts 
 of the church. However, we were determined to see the 
 view from the top of the church, so we paid seven shillings, 
 and went up. We had not gone up a dozen stairs, before 
 we were stopped, and another shilling demanded, and but a 
 little farther our progress was again arrested, and we were 
 told that if we would see the geometrical staircase and the 
 library, still another shilling must be forthcoming. On this 
 I got wrathy, and told the man we had paid enough already, 
 and that we did not want to see any library or staircase, 
 though I confess my curiosity was a little excited to know 
 what a geometrical staircase meant. I told him we could 
 go all over St. Peter's at Rome without paying a sixpence. 
 He did not seem to like it, and I don't care if he did'nt. 
 I had been three months where I could not scold much if I 
 wanted to, and I have not now found the use of my native 
 tongue for nothing. 
 
316 LETTERS. 
 
 At length we came to the roof, and went inside of the 
 dome. Here is another whispering gallery. We went one 
 side, and a man stood opposite to us, and whispered some- 
 thing ; all I heard was " a shilling and sixpence," (quite as 
 familiar words to him as any other, I dare say,) for there 
 were some workmen over our heads who made such a clat- 
 tering, that we could not hear loud talking, to say nothing 
 of whispering. Then this man shut one of the gallery 
 doors, and the noise was quite startling, sounding like 
 thunder. 
 
 After leaving this gallery, we wound around in the dark, 
 till we came to the top of the dome, but when there, we 
 found that the view was greatly impaired by the smoke and 
 fog that enveloped us. We saw, indeed, enough to convince 
 us that London is a magnificent city, at least in respect to 
 size. We could see the Thames quite plainly, as it mean- 
 dered along, and tile and copper roofs beneath us, and 
 spires in abundance around us, and occasionally an opening 
 where green trees brightened the prospect, but the smoke 
 or fog or something else lay often in such thick masses, that 
 it was impossible to penetrate it. The air was loaded with 
 noxious vapor, that was almost intolerable to us. " What a 
 horrid smell," I said, and I turned to another side away 
 from the wind, but still it followed me. I could not com- 
 pare it to any thing, but imagining myself to be in a coal 
 cellar, where a quantity both of charcoal and hard coal had 
 just been thrown, the vile dust of which filled the air, and 
 while the odor was yet in my nose, to add to it the smell 
 of strong coffee while boiling. You will smile at this 
 homely comparison, nevertheless, it is as true a one as I can 
 give you. 
 
 After waiting on that elevated spot nearly an hour, hoping 
 the air would become clearer, we went up by almost perpen- 
 dicular stairs, and by a straight ladder, till we got inside of 
 the ball ; but here as I attempted to look out, the wind blew 
 so violently, that it took my bonnet, and even my hair. 
 
LETTERS. 317 
 
 almost off my head, so that I thought it was high time to 
 go down. 
 
 And thus ended our visit to St. Paul's. If all sight-seeing 
 in England is on so expensive a scale, one would soon ex- 
 haust a small fortune. But I certainly must not forget to 
 tell you, that we went up no less than five hundred and 
 eighty-seven stairs in reaching the top. I assure you it re- 
 quired no little patience in counting them, and yet counting 
 was the easiest part. 
 
 There are some beautiful shops around St. Paul's, in which 
 are as fine articles and as finely arranged as in Paris. We 
 went once more into '* Paternoster Row," a singular name, 
 by the way, for a street, '' Our Father Row ; " but it was so 
 named because here, in the days of Romish superstition, 
 were manufactured heads and other articles used by adhe- 
 rents to that faith. It is quite a narrow street, and is mostly 
 occupied by booksellers. At Wiley & Putnam's, one of 
 the publishers was so kind as to give us several American 
 newspapers, the first we have seen since leaving Marseilles ; 
 you may well imagine they were eagerly devoured by us. 
 Near this street is the new Post-office, a spacious and ele- 
 gant building, adorned with three porticoes of the Ionic 
 order of architecture. You may have some idea of the vast 
 deal of business done here, when I tell you that more than 
 five hundred individuals are constantly employed in this 
 establishment, and that a half million letters pass through it 
 every week. Besides this central office, little branch offices 
 are established in different parts of the city, and post-men 
 go from them four times a day, so that if you want to send 
 a note to any individual in the most remote part of the city, 
 you have only to drop it into one of these little offices, and 
 you have an answer in an hour or two. 
 
 After lunch we went to the Colosseum, a large building 
 
 surmounted by a dome, and having a beautiful Doric portico 
 
 in front. It was built for the purpose of exhibiting Horner's 
 
 Panorama of London, which covers forty thousand feet of 
 
 27* 
 
318 LETTERS. 
 
 canvass. It was taken from the top of St. Paul's, and the 
 artist was employed three years upon it. He must have 
 taken up his abode in those elevated regions while sketch- 
 ing it, for he certainly could not mount up all those stairs 
 many times a week. It is a grand thing, and gives you a 
 most complete idea of the vastness of the city. All lies 
 before you, palaces and parks, churches, hospitals, and asy- 
 lums, schools, and houses, the river, and the countless boats 
 on its surface, and to heighten the resemblance, carriages 
 and horses, and people in the streets. 
 
 This morning we found a real English rain when we 
 awoke, and we began to think what we should do with our- 
 selves, for our time was too precious to admit of our spend- 
 ing a whole day in our room. At breakfast we were assailed 
 on all sides with questions. Our fellow boarders think we are 
 so persevering in sight-seeing, that they were actually glad 
 there was such a rain, and one and another said, " Well, 
 
 Mrs. , you certainly will not think of going out in this 
 
 deluge." We took it all very coolly, and assured them it 
 was such a grand time to see the British Museum, that we 
 could not let the opportunity pass without improving it. A 
 party of three Americans have been boarding here six weeks, 
 and they told us this morning that we really had seen more 
 of London than they had. 
 
 In sight of our door is a stand for carriages. I think the 
 carriage arrangements here are much better than in Paris. 
 There we often had to walk some distance before we could 
 find a carriage, but when we did come to a stand, we found 
 vehicles of all shapes and sizes, and in any quantities. 
 Here there are a few carriages at a time ; they are in almost 
 every street, standing along in a line in the middle of the 
 street. You have only to look toward a carriage driver, 
 and instantly his fore finger is raised ; if you want him, 
 you raise yours in return, and immediately he is by your 
 side. I like when I go by a line of carriages, just to glance 
 a them, to see how quickly the fingers are raised. 
 
LETTERS. 3J9 
 
 The British Museum is a very large building, nay, I may 
 say buildings. Some parts are quite new, indeed not yet fin- 
 ished, so that all the articles are not arranged for visitors 
 to see them. The collection is very extensive and remark- 
 bly fine, and for a wonder in London, the admission is free 
 and no attendant is allowed to take a fee from a visitor. 
 On the staircase are several stuffed animals, a giraffe, a 
 musk ox, a white bear, a seal, a rhinoceros, and some others. 
 In the first room are curiosities from the South Sea Islands, 
 and from British North America, fishing utensils, jackets 
 made of the intestines of the whale, musical instruments, 
 mostly of reeds, warlike implements, clubs, cloth made of 
 the bark of the paper mulberry, Esquimaux dresses, idols of 
 various forms, ornaments, &c. Then comes the museum 
 of natural history, and here is every kind of animal ever 
 known to exist. I cannot, of course, enumerate them. 
 Besides the larger animals, there are every species of mon- 
 keys, bats, rats, mice, squirrels, rabbits, all sorts of insects 
 preserved in spirits, fish, and birds of every kind. And not 
 the least interesting were the fossil remains of animals, larger 
 than any in the known world, by the side of which the ele- 
 phant is but a baby, animals, too, that were found in Eng- 
 land, that now only exist in the hottest climates. Such are 
 some of the changes in this changing world of ours. 
 
 Then there was a beautiful collection of shells comprising 
 every kind, from the common clam shell to the rarest and 
 most beautiful ever known, and a grand cabinet of minerals. 
 One room was filled with mummies and other Egyptian an- 
 tiquities, but we did not stop to examine them, as we saw so 
 many of those in different museums on the continent. 
 
 We supposed the library was also open to the public, but 
 we found that no one was admitted except by an order from 
 one of the trustees. We told one of the attendants that we 
 were strangers, and of course could not well obtain such a 
 ticket. He asked if we were foreigners, (it seems he did 
 not suspect by our *' poor English " that we were Ameri- 
 
820 LETTERS. 
 
 cans.) On being told who we v/ere, he told us he would 
 show us the room called the king's library. It is a large 
 room, three hundred feet long, and contains over sixty 
 thousand volumes, but as we could not see any of the rare 
 manuscripts here deposited, we did not care to stop long. 
 
 On coming out, we found that the rain had ceased, so we 
 thought we would walk to Westminster Abbey. It was a 
 long distance to be sure, but as the church was not open 
 till three o'clock, we should have gained nothing by riding, 
 so looking about on the shops and houses, and reading the 
 signs, we walked on, sometimes getting a little out ot our 
 way. Then we unfolded our pocket map, found out the 
 right direction, and again trudged on. At last came up a 
 violent shower, and we were obliged to take a carriage for 
 the remainder of the distance. 
 
 What a noble building is Westminster Abbey ! Vastly 
 superior in its architecture to St. Paul's, and then, inde- 
 pendent of these things, it is full of so many monuments, 
 and appeals to our feelings by so many touching associa- 
 tions, that it is one of the first objects in London a stranger 
 goes to see. 
 
 It is built in the purest Gothic style, excepting that the up- 
 per part of the front towers is finished with Roman ornaments, 
 an inconsistency which must immediately strike every behold- 
 er. All around the exterior are jutting turrets wrought in the 
 finest Gothic style. Leading to the north arm of the cross, 
 is a noble portico. In short, the whole exterior is magnifi- 
 cent, and is finished in the richest manner. And the inte- 
 rior is so grand, that I cannot praise it too highly. The 
 ceiling is vaulted, and is supported by immense pillars of 
 grey marble. Around the nave runs a gallery composed of 
 licrht arches, over which is a range of windows. The choir 
 is so separated from the nave, as greatly to impair the effect 
 of the architecture, making the church look much shorter 
 than it is. At the entrance to the choir are beautiful 
 arches of open stone work, over which is the organ, which, 
 
LETTERS. 321 
 
 of course, entirely conceal the choir from view, while stand- 
 ing in the nave. 
 
 I come now to speak of the monuments. And first of all 
 let us stop at that part of the church called " the Poet's 
 corner." How many a bard has been cheered, through 
 scenes of poverty and self-denial, by the hope of at last 
 being laid among the gifted ones, whose ashes here repose, 
 or whose names are here inscribed. The first monument that 
 attracted my attention was that of Milton. It is surmounted 
 by a bust of that prince of epic poets. On the pedestal is 
 a bas-relief bust of Gray, and an inscription to that poet 
 also. I designed copying the inscriptions on all these mon- 
 uments, (not to burden you with them, but for my own edi- 
 fication,) but we were not allow^ed to stop long enough in 
 any one place to do that. Let me give you the inscription 
 on Spenser's monument. " Heare lyes (expecting the 
 second comminge of our Saviour Christ Jesvs,) the body of 
 Edmund Spenser, the Prince of Poets in his tyme, whose 
 Divine Spirit needs noe other witnesse than the works 
 which he left behinde. He was borne in London in the 
 yeare 1553, and died in the yeare 1593." Quite near this 
 is a little slab surmounted by a bust, with this simple in- 
 scription, " O rare Ben Jonson." 
 
 Within a neat little temple of white marble, is a bust, 
 beneath which is written, " J. Dryden, natus 1632; mor- 
 tuus ]\lais 1, 1700." In another part of the " corner " is a 
 monument to Shakspeare, on the pedestal of which, in bas- 
 relief, are the heads of Henry V., Richard III., and Eliza- 
 beth. On the top is a statue of the dramatist, holding in 
 his hand a scroll. Near him are the remains of Sheridan, 
 and monuments to Thomson, Goldsmith, Garrick, Addison, 
 Congreve, and Handel, and in another part of the church, 
 of Drs. Young and Watts. Why they were not put in the 
 " corner," I cannot tell. 
 
 Among the statesmen of Great Britain, Pitt and Fox, 
 Grattan, Canning, and Wilberforce are here remembered. 
 
322 LETTERS. 
 
 Wilberforce is represented in a sitting posture ; it is said to 
 be a striking likeness. It is excellently well done. I was 
 particularly struck with one monument, (I can't tell whose 
 it was,) on which was a figure designed to signify the dis- 
 tress of the widow and the fatherless. A woman holds in 
 her arms a child ; on her sharpened features poverty is 
 w'ritten, and in her piteous expression, want and care and 
 affliction may be plainly read. By her side lies her little 
 bundle, in which is collected her all of this world's goods. 
 But the best part is the robe of coarse serge thrown around 
 her. This is so admirably done, as perfectly to imitate 
 coarse cloth, and I actually went up close to it to see if 
 it were not " bona fide " cloth. I inquired the sculptor's 
 name. It may not be new to the world ; it was to me 
 (Westmacott), but known or unknown, it will live in that 
 w^ork. 
 
 Another monument was most beautiful. I say " beauti- 
 ful" because so expressive. It is that of Lady Nightingale. 
 Death is represented as coming out of the tomb, holding in 
 his hand a dart, which he is aiming at the " lovely lady." 
 Her husband stands with his arms around her, endeavoring 
 to shield her from the unerring aim. Horror and anguish 
 unutterable are expressed on his face, while her's is that of a 
 dying woman, ghastly, yet sweet. 
 
 But were I longer to dwell on these monuments, I should 
 have to sit up all the night to finish this letter, so I will 
 hasten into King Henry Vllth's Chapel. It is one hundred 
 and fifteen feet long, and eighty wide, and is a perfect little 
 church in itself, having a nave and side aisles. It is ap- 
 proached from the church by steps of black marble under 
 a stately portico, within which are gates of brass, curiously 
 wrought. The ceiling is of stone, sculptured. In the nave 
 are stalls for the Knights of the order of the Bath, which 
 order used to be here conferred. Each seat has a brass 
 plate, inscribed with the name and the arms of its owner, 
 and over his seat is his banner. Beneath these are stools 
 for their esquires, 
 
LETTERS. 323 
 
 One of the finest tombs in this chapel is that of Henry 
 VII. and his queen. It is surrounded by a screen of open 
 iron work. In one of the aisles of the chapel are tombs of 
 dueens Elizabeth and Mary, supported by ten pillars of 
 black marble, the body of Elizabeth resting on a bier up- 
 held by four lions, of the murdered princes, of Mary the 
 unfortunate Queen of Scots, and of many others, far too 
 numerous for me to mention here. I cannot refrain, how- 
 ever, from copying the inscription on the tomb of Margaret 
 Douglas, daughter of Margaret, Queen of Scots. " She 
 had to her great-grandfather, Edward IV., to her grand- 
 father, Henry VII., to her uncle, Henry VIII., to her cousin- 
 german, Edward VI., to her brother, James V. of Scotland, 
 to her grandson, James VI., to her great grandmother and 
 grandmother, two queens, both named Elizabeth, to her 
 mother Margaret, queen of Scots, to her aunt, Mary the 
 French queen, to her cousins-german Mary and Elizabeth, 
 queens of England, to her niece and daughter-in-law, Mary 
 Queen of Scots." Now I should think here were grand 
 relations enough to satisfy even the cravings of an English 
 heart. I warrant she carried her head high. 
 
 In one of the chapels, I do not remember which, is the 
 monument of an Earl of Exeter, on top of which is his 
 recumbent statue, and on his right hand, that of his first 
 wife. A vacant space is on his lefi;, reserved for his second 
 wife, but she left in her will a strict injunction not to have 
 her body laid there, as she would not submit to be on the 
 left hand I Now this is what I call a real woman's spirit. 
 
 But I must not forget Edward the Confessor's chapel, 
 which is near the choir, and contains the shrine of St. Ed- 
 ward, the tomb of Editha his wife, and of some others. 
 Here too are the sword and shield of Edward I., and two 
 coronation chairs, the most ancient of which was brought 
 with the regalia from Scotland in 1297; the other was 
 made for the consort of William III. They are of oak, a 
 ittle gilded, but not much. 
 
324 LETTERS. 
 
 Among the curious inscriptions let me copy one more, 
 and then I shall have done. " Here lyes the loyall Duke of 
 Newcastle and his Dutchess, his second wife, by whome he 
 had noe issue ; her name was Margaret Lucas, youngest 
 sister to the Lord Lucas of Colchester, a noble familie, for 
 all the brothers were valiant, and all the sisters virtuous. 
 The Dutchess was a wise, wittie and learned lady, which her 
 many bookes do well testifie. She was a most virtuous, and 
 a loveing and carefull wife, and was with her lord all the 
 time of his banishment and miseries, and when he came 
 home, never parted from him in his solitary confinement." 
 Truly such a woman, so literary and yet so domestic, 
 deserves a monument. 
 
 One of the sextons of the church '' did the honors of the 
 place," and wry were the glances he cast at me, when he 
 saw me stop to copy any thing, and sundry were the hints 
 he gave about not taking up too much time, all of which 
 made no impression upon me. We did not leave till the 
 lengthened shadows warned us to depart. 
 
 You may well suppose that when we met our fellow- 
 boarders at the dinner table, they congratulated us on the 
 good use we had made of the day. They all complain, 
 because we do not go to the drawing-room after dinner and 
 spend the evening there ; but what would become of my 
 letters and my journal if I did 1 
 
 Such a long epistle as this surely needs nothing at the 
 end ; so I stop abruptly, without as much as adding " love 
 to all inquiring friends." 
 
 London, Friday. 
 My dear F :. 
 
 I suppose you wonder that I have been so long in England 
 without saying any thing of " our gracious lady, her Majesty 
 Queen Victoria," but the fact is I have had nothing to say 
 about her, for she is at present at Windsor. She is expected 
 
LETTERS. 325 
 
 however to open Parliament on Tuesday week, so we shall 
 wait to see the show. By the way, she is never here spoken 
 of as " the Queen," but always " her Majesty." 
 
 Yesterday morning we devoted to the Tower. We rode 
 in an omnibus as far as the Bank. (Will you allow m^ to 
 say here in a parenthesis, that this vehicle is never called by 
 its proper name here, that being quite too long, it is always 
 spoken of as a "bus.") The Bank of England is an im- 
 mense building, though rather low, being but a story and a 
 half high. The principal entrance is adorned with pillars. 
 Next to it is the new Royal Exchange. It is but just 
 begvn, and is to be an enormous edifice, at least one third 
 larger than the one destroyed by fire in 1838. 
 
 We walked through two or three narrow, dirty streets, 
 with low, ill-looking houses. The principal thing for sale, 
 or "on sale," as they say here, was fish. At length we 
 reached the Tower. This I always thought was one large 
 building, but it is rather a village than a single house. The 
 whole is enclosed by a high wall, having a wide ditch run- 
 ning around on the outside. We stopped at the gate and 
 bought tickets for the armory and jewel room, and then we 
 were shown into a little room, where our tickets were 
 demanded, and we were ranged along in due order on 
 benches, in parties of twelve, no more being allowed to go 
 at once, I suppose because that is quite as many as one man 
 can attend to. We waited there awhile, till two other 
 parties had had time to get a little ahead, and then our turn 
 came. We were marshaled by a warder who wore a scarlet 
 cloth coat, with large hanging sleeves. It was faced with 
 narrow blue-black velvet, within lines of gilt thread. On 
 the back and front were wrought, the " rose, the shamrock, 
 and the thistle," (flowers emblematical of England, Ireland, 
 and Scotland,) and the letters " V. R." He wore a low 
 hat of blue-black velvet, around the band of which were 
 little bows of blue, red and white ribbon. Was'nt it a 
 queer costume for an " Englisher ? " 
 28 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 He was thoroughly acquainted with his subject, and he 
 took it for granted that we knew as much as he did, for he 
 rattled off the names, and hurried us about so, that I could 
 hardly tell what was what. I succeeded in noting down a 
 fewT things. In fact, we were always behind the others, to 
 the apparent vexation of the warder, for he cast many angry 
 looks towards us. 
 
 In the armory we saw suits of armor once belonging to 
 many of England's kings and nobles. How easily these 
 were worn, you may judge from the fact, that one suit 
 belonging to Henry VIII., including the armor for his horse, 
 weighs one hundred and forty-two pounds. We saw the 
 armor of a pikeman, who was seven feet two inches high, 
 and ten small cannon presented to Charles I. when a child, 
 to teach him the use of artillery. 
 
 We were then hurried to the " White Tower," and went 
 into the room where Sir Walter Raleigh was confined, and 
 where he wrote his " History of the World." Adjoining 
 this is a small, dark room, which was his bed-room. The 
 walls of this room have been newly covered, but in one 
 place the old wall is seen, on which was written by some of 
 the prisoners once confined here, " Be thou faithful unto 
 death, and I will give thee a crown of life ; " and, " He that 
 endureth to the end shall be saved." 
 
 In this room is the axe with which the heads of Anne 
 Boleyn, Jane Grey, and the Earl of Essex were cut off, and 
 also the block on which some noblemen, whose names were 
 not familiar to me, were beheaded. We saw some instru- 
 ments of torture, fit furniture for such a room, among which 
 was one called " the Spanish Caraval," or " Scavenger's 
 Daughter." It had an opening for the neck, another for the 
 arms, and still another for the legs, thus drawing the body 
 into a very small compass. Another was called " the Span- 
 ish Collar ; " it fastened around the neck, and was furnished 
 with sharp points to pierce the flesh. It weighs fifteen 
 pounds. Then there was a roller of iron, having a ring at 
 
LETTERS. 327 
 
 each end, in which the feet were fastened, thus not only 
 confining them together, but making the individual drag this 
 heavy weight with him wherever he went. 
 
 The walls of *' the White Tower " are seventeen feet 
 thick, and its foundations twenty-eight deep. In one room 
 is a representation of Queen Elizabeth, as she went on 
 horseback to St. Paul's, to return thanks after the defeat of 
 the Spanish Armada. It is really curious. Her dress is 
 covered with spangles of silver, and something which looked 
 like wax beads, meant, I suppose, for pearls. The bodice 
 was long and tight, the sleeves large, and round her neck 
 she wore an immense ruff, and a half dozen rich chains. 
 Over her dress was a mantle of green velvet. The housings 
 of the horse were of crimson velvet. It was led by a small 
 page. The whole was an interesting relic of the past. 
 
 In other rooms in the tower we saw cannon, on which 
 were the imperial crown, and the letter N., which were taken 
 at the battle of Waterloo ; two cannon taken from the ship 
 Royal George, sunk many years ago, (these had been in the 
 water more than fifty years,) a belt and a shield once be- 
 longing to Tippoo Saib, a scythe fixed upon wheels, used to 
 send in among cavalry to break their ranks, some bayonets 
 taken in the battle of Bayonne, from which, by the way, 
 the name is derived, and balls and grape-shot, and weapons 
 of warfare innumerable. 
 
 When the warder told the names of the cannon taken as 
 trophies of war, he seemed to feel a pride in thus relating 
 deeds of valor performed by his countrymen, I was on the 
 point of asking him if he could show some taken from the 
 Americans in contest with them, but then I should have 
 betrayed my nation, which for certain reasons I wished 
 concealed. These warders are what we call " cute," and 
 they rather pride themselves on their powers of discernment, 
 and have often been heard to boast that they could tell an 
 American just as soon as they saw one. An English gentle- 
 man, speaking of this fact at the breakfast table yesterday 
 
328 LETTERS. 
 
 morning, defied us to go to the Tower and act ourselves, 
 without the warder discovering who we were. I maintained 
 that we could. We therefore asked as many questions as 
 we chose about the objects that claimed our attention, 
 without apparently exciting his suspicions, but if I, in my 
 national pride, had referred to the contest with America, I 
 should, in common parlance, " have let the cat out of the 
 bag,'' for no Englishman would voluntarily speak on so sore 
 a subject. 
 
 There is one room three hundred and forty-five feet long 
 and sixty wide, filled with guns and muskets kept in the 
 nicest order. When the racks are all filled, they number 
 one hundred and fifty thousand ; at present there are one 
 hundred thousand, many having been lately sent to the 
 troops in foreign lands. No wonder there are " Gun- 
 makers to her Majesty." Many of these guns and muskets 
 were arranged in various forms around the walls of the 
 room, representing the sun, the royal arms, hydra-headed 
 monsters, the front of an organ, and several other things. 
 
 We then visited the Jewel room, a little dungeon, in 
 which several bishops were at one time confined. Here we 
 sat on two seats before the royal gems, separated from them, 
 however, by an iron grate, through which we were gracious- 
 ly allowed to peep. Our warder left us here to the care of a 
 woman, but not before touching his hat, and softly saying, 
 " remember the warder, if you please." 
 
 With a little wand in her hand, and in the choicest 
 phrases, and the softest tones, our lady of the jewels called 
 off their names. The first thing, of course, in beauty and 
 splendor, is Victoria's crown. It is set with the richest 
 gems, one of which is a sapphire, the largest in the known 
 world, presented by some great king, I declare I have for- 
 gotten whom. The crown cost one million pounds sterling. 
 It is only taken from this place on great state occasions. 
 When she opens or prorogues Parliament, it is borne before 
 her till she reads her speech. It is then put on her head, 
 
LETTERS. 329 
 
 and worn until she gets through, when it is once more con- 
 signed to its velvet cushion, and brought here with great 
 pomp and parade. 
 
 The other jewels are valued at about one million pounds. 
 Amongst these there is a large basin of gold used at the 
 christening . of the royal babies, the sword of mercy, the 
 two swords of justice, the one temporal, the other spiritual, 
 a large golden chalice, used at the coronation banquets, a 
 plate and chalice for the communion, the golden eagle, and 
 the spoon in which is placed the consecrating oil, five or six 
 splendid saltcellars of gold, the spurs worn at the consecra- 
 tion, if a king, and the bracelets, if a queen, the golden orb, 
 used for what purpose I know not, some foolery or other, 
 two or three swords belonging to some of the former kings, 
 the crown made for Anne Boleyn, and I have forgotten 
 what else, except the model in gold of *' the white tower," 
 which cost eight thousand pounds. 
 
 As we left the Jewel room, our lady conductor kindly 
 pointed out the part of the tower in which Mary confined 
 her sister Elizabeth, also where Anne Boleyn and Jane 
 Grey were imprisoned, and the place in the court where 
 they were beheaded.* 
 
 Where next do you think we directed our steps ? To the 
 greatest of all curiosities, made not by the hand of nature 
 but of man, the Tunnel. We passed by the Custom-house, 
 an immense building of dark colored stone. There seemed 
 to be a busy scene going on around the premises, for in the 
 few minutes we stopped to observe the building, more than 
 one hundred persons passed in and out. Indeed I was told 
 
 * I have dwelt with melancholy pleasure on this our visit to the Tower, 
 as the first news we heard after leaving England, was, that almost all these 
 things which I have mentioned, except the jewels, had been destroyed by 
 fire. Such an event is not only a loss to England, but to the whole world, 
 for it was a grand place that Tower, to acquire important historical infor- 
 mation. 
 
 28* 
 
330 LETTERS. 
 
 that nearly two thousand persons are kept there in constant 
 employ. 
 
 We went along by St. Catherine's dock and the London 
 dock, which are surrounded by large warehouses, till we 
 came to the part of the river opposite the entrance to the 
 Tunnel. We crossed the river in a little boat, and after 
 paying two shillings at the tunnel office, were soon down in 
 the bowels of the earth. We descended, I should think, 
 more than a hun dred stairs, no carriage road being yet 
 made. We traversed the whole length of the tunnel, at 
 least as far as it has been finished, which is within a few 
 yards of the opposite bank of the river. It is at present 
 eleven hundred and forty feet long, thirty-eight wide, and 
 twenty-two feet and a half high. It is lined with stone, and 
 the whole is finished off in the most solid manner. There are 
 two passages, separated from each other by an archway, 
 and in each arch there is a gas light. The passages are 
 macadamized, and a little raised walk is paved for foot- 
 passengers. 
 
 I do not think I ever experienced sensations so nearly 
 approaching the awful, as I did in that terrific passage. 
 Climbing up mountains, groping in dark caves, wandering 
 through grottoes lit only by the glimmering torch, the feel- 
 ings excited by these dwindled to nothing, compared with 
 the effect produced on my mind by the Thames tunnel. To 
 know that that river was rolling over our heads, and that 
 its surface was covered by ships and steamers and boats 
 without number, and that if the slightest accident happened, 
 there was no escape for us ; it was terrible, and 1 doubt 
 much if I could find courage to go there again. To add to 
 the gloom, the gas pipes had been broken, and the arches 
 were but dimly lighted with little tallow candles, which 
 threw their flickering beams with so much indistinctness, as 
 to render every thing still more shadowy and superhuman. 
 And then, too, to see the dusky forms gliding about, and to 
 hear the cries of the workmen, as they called out to each 
 
LETTERS. 331 
 
 Other, made the whole scene seem more like a fearful pic- 
 ture of the imagination, than a dread reality. This tunnel, 
 dreadful as it is, is nevertheless a stupendous piece of work- 
 manship, and merits all praise for the perseverance with 
 which it has been carried on against all obstacles, which 
 have been by no means few or far between. The work is 
 done slowly ; a large machine is used, called " a shield," 
 within which are the workmen. They bore out a small 
 portion of earth, screw in a clamp to keep it from caving in, 
 then dig out a little piece more, and so on, till the whole is 
 excavated. Thus it progresses by inches, and although it 
 now seems so near being finished, it will probably be several 
 years before carriages can pass, as a road to the tunnel has 
 yet to be made, which will be no small labor, seeing 
 that the descent is now almost perpendicular. 
 
 J. and several gentlemen, who were down at the same 
 time with us, enveloped themselves in water-proof coats and 
 hats, and went forward where they could see the men at 
 work, but I felt satisfied with standing where I was, which 
 was at the very end of the passage. I could hear the water 
 dripping where the work was not completed, and I did not 
 care to venture farther in such unknown regions. It was 
 not very pleasant to be sure to be left there alone ; but I 
 walked back and forth, occupying myself with my own 
 thoughts, not just then of the most cheerful nature. In addi- 
 tion to all other inconveniences, the air was so noxious, I 
 could not breathe with ease, and it was so damp and cold, 
 that I shivered all the while I was there, so that I was glad 
 once more to behold the light of day. 
 
 We started on our homeward way, but instead of turning 
 toward the city, we took the opposite direction, and had 
 walked quite a mile before we perceived our mistake. We 
 then were obliged to retrace our steps to the Tunnel, 
 where we got into a *' bus," and rode as far as St. Paul's. 
 
 We have been amused in our different walks, to see 
 the novel method of advertising practised here. Men go 
 
332 LETTERS. 
 
 around with large frames on their shoulders, and sometimes 
 on their head ; on these are posted playbills, notices of 
 places of amusement, and exhortations to buy your goods at 
 the cheapest shops. We have several times seen a large 
 wagon going about the streets, having on it, " reform your 
 tailor's bill," and giving the address of the establishment 
 where this good work might be perfected. 
 
 This morning we went to Greenwich, about five miles 
 from here, though for my part I could not tell where London 
 ended and Greenwich began, for it seemed to me all the 
 time as if we were in the dense part of the city. We were 
 told that a coach for Greenwich started from " Charing 
 Cross," so taking our little map as a guide, we set out. We 
 passed through Regent street, a fine wide street, adorned 
 with stately buildings, the lower stories of which are mostly 
 fitted up for shops. Here you will see the richest goods 
 displayed. Laces, embroideries, and silk, are sold about as 
 cheap here as in Paris, gloves are higher. Articles manu- 
 factured within the kingdon are quite cheap, but on those 
 imported, the duties are so high, that a correspondingly high 
 price is demanded for them. Thus I often see in the shop 
 windows coffee marked two shillings and two shillings six- 
 pence a pound (this currency). Books are exceedingly high, 
 the same books which at home we might buy for a half dol- 
 lar, here bring seven shillings. We saw a flaming adver- 
 tisement in the windows of a bookseller, that an edition of 
 Scott's novels was there sold very cheap. We inquired 
 the price. Very cheap it was to be sure, at four shillings 
 a volume, each separate work comprising at least two 
 volumes ! 
 
 But as usual with me, I have wandered far from my sub- 
 ject. At the lower end of Regent street, there is a noble 
 semicircular range of houses ; this is called " The Quad- 
 rant." In front is a colonnade, supported by handsome 
 pillars, and lighted by windows in the roof. All the houses 
 in this vicinity are good specimens of architecture. 
 
LETTERS. 333 
 
 Charing Cross derives its name, some say, from a cross 
 erected on this spot (then the village of Charing) by Ed- 
 ward I., to the memory of Q,ueen Eleanor. Others deny 
 the existence of such a village, and affirm, that the cross 
 was so named from its being erected on this spot, so fre- 
 quently the restijig place of the " chere Regne," (dear 
 Q,ueen,) in her numerous "progresses" about the metropo- 
 lis. Be that as it may, the cross remained till the civil wars 
 in the time of Charles I., when it was torn down, because 
 considered a remnant of papal superstition. An equestrian 
 statue in bronze of Charles I., then took its place, which 
 by the way was the first equestrian statue ever seen in 
 Great Britain. Not long did it remain there, for soon after 
 the dethronement and execution of that unhappy monarch, 
 it was sold by Parliament to a brazier, with orders to break 
 it in nlpp.p« b"* hs c^nCiilcd it under cr^uid tiM *hs ^f"*!^*^- 
 ration, when it was brought back to its original resting place. 
 
 Near Charing Cross is an open place of triangular form, 
 adorned with an equestrian statue of George III. 
 
 The chief object of interest in Greenwich, at least to us, 
 is the " Hospital for Seamen." There are four large build- 
 ings called King Charles's, Queen Anne's, King William's, 
 and Q,ueen Mary's, the first two being on the Thames, and 
 having between them a large square, ornamented with a 
 statue of George II. King William's and Q,ueen Mary's 
 buildings stand back of this square ; they have each a fine 
 dome and a portico. 
 
 Connected with the hospital is a beautiful chapel. It is 
 one hundred and eleven feet long, and fifty-two wide. The 
 side galleries are for the officers, the governor's seat being 
 in the centre. These galleries are not supported by pillars, 
 but by large beams of oak, finely carved. The organ gal- 
 lery is supported by six fluted columns of beautiful white 
 marble, the capitals being exquisitely sculptured. The 
 door-way is also of white marble, richly carved. The 
 door is of mahogany, and has stood fifty-two years without 
 
334 LETTERS. 
 
 hinge or nail, turning on its own pivot. It cost five hun- 
 dred pounds. The organ has seventeen hundred and twenty 
 pipes, and is considered one of the best in the kingdom. 
 The communion table is of white marble ; it rests on six 
 cherubs. Over this table is West's great picture of the 
 preservation of St. Paul from shipwreck. It is twenty-five 
 feet high, and fourteen wide, and is on one piece of canvass, 
 manufactured purposely for the painting. The pulpit and 
 the desk are of satin wood. The floor is of black and white 
 marble, paved in the aisles to represent the cables of a 
 ship. The whole cost of the chapel was ninety-six thousand 
 pounds. It really is a fine building, and every thing is as 
 nice and neat as possible. A middle-aged seaman was our 
 cicerone there, and he described every thing in very good 
 language. I really enjoyed hearing hira talk. We went 
 into one of the dining hails, where tables were set fur seven 
 hundred men. In each plate were three or four potatoes 
 and some salt. Three quarters of a pound of meat and a 
 bowl of soup are allowed each man. One day they have 
 beef, and the next mutton. Every morning a pint of cho- 
 colate and a half pound of bread are given to each one, and 
 at night a pint of tea, a half pound of bread, and two 
 ounces of butter. In addition to all this good cheer, each 
 man has daily three pints of ale, made at the hospital. 
 
 Those who are married are served first, that they may 
 take it to their families, who are not allowed to be with 
 them in the hospital. At present there are twenty-seven 
 hundred men in this establishment. They wear a blue 
 uniform, and besides this, are allowed their shoes, stock- 
 ings, linen, and a shilling a week for pocket money. Those 
 that we saw looked cheerful and clean. Many were maimed, 
 some were blind, and almost all showed marks of hard 
 service. 
 
 In King Charles' building are the libraries, one for the 
 oflficers, and the other for the seamen. None but pension- 
 ers are permitted to go in. So we peeped through one of 
 
LETTERS. 335 
 
 the windows and saw that the books were neatly arranged, 
 and that around a large table in the centre were settees, 
 the tops of which were carved to imitate a rope. One of the 
 seamen told us that those were presented by William IV., 
 and that they are said to be among the finest specimens of 
 carving in wood in the kingdom. 
 
 In the upper stories of this building are the sleeping 
 apartments. In one ward each man is permitted to furnish 
 his own bed-room, or cabin, as he cells it. These rooms 
 are small, but exceedingly nbo rnd neat. Each seems to 
 vie with the other in striving after cleanliness and tidiness. 
 Many of these cabins were plentifully decorated with little 
 pictures, shells, stuffed birds, cups, and glasses, brought 
 from foreign countries, all having connected with them 
 associations more or less interesting. In one room we saw 
 a carving in wood, representing the victory of the Mary 
 Ross. It was done with a common jack-knife by a sailor 
 who had but one arm. He was seven years employed upon 
 it, and it is really a fine piece of workmanship, though not by 
 a renowned artist. Underneath this in a glass case, are the 
 hat Nelson wore at the battle of Trafalgar, and a pair of 
 silk stockings once belonging to him. What pride and en- 
 thusiam all these seamen manifested in speaking of Nelson ! 
 It seemed as though they reverenced him as something more 
 than human. 
 
 King Charles' building was formerly a royal palace, and 
 the window was pointed out to us, though which, report 
 says, that ill-fated king made his escape, when pursued by 
 his enemies. In this building the doors are of iron, so if a 
 fire breaks out in one room, by shutting the doors, its spread 
 is somewhat prevented. 
 
 We enjoyed this visit to Greenwich much. It was inter- 
 esting to us to meet so many of the old English tars, who 
 have undergone so much in their country's service. 
 
 On our return we found a note from Mr. P., an American 
 gentleman now residing in London, enclosing two tickets 
 
336 LETTERS. 
 
 for Vauxhall gardens for this evening, at which time there 
 was to be an unusual variety in the entertainments, in 
 honor of the birthday of Adelaide the Queen Dowager. 
 We are at least three miles from Vauxhall, so we went in 
 an omnibus. When we arrived there the doors were not 
 opened. A crowd of people was waiting around, but all 
 were quiet and orderly, for there were several police men, 
 who were ready to put down the least disturbance, the mo- 
 ment it should arise. There is no feature of London that 
 strikes a stranger more agreeably than the admirable police 
 arrangements. In almost every street during the day, and 
 in quite every one in the evening, you meet these men, ever 
 ready for the prompt performance of their duty. They 
 wear an uniform of dark blue, always look neat and clean, 
 and are uniformly civil and obliging. Whenever we have 
 inquiries to make in relation to any thing that particularly 
 strikes our attention, we address our remarks to a police- 
 man, and we have invariably received from them civil and 
 gentlemanly attention, without any officiousness, any extra 
 words, but what they say is right to the point, though al- 
 ways uttered in the most respectful manner. We often see 
 them settling difficulties in the streets, and leading away 
 men and women ; for with shame to my sex, be it said, 
 a drunken, brawling woman is no rare sight in London. 
 
 But to Vauxhall. After waiting ten or fifteen minutes, 
 the doors were opened, and we were ushered into the gar- 
 den, where a blaze of light and splendor caused us to stop 
 and gaze around. This garden is extensive, and is adorned 
 with delightful trees and walks, which were illuminated by 
 hundreds of small lights of various colors. Almost the first 
 thing that we noticed was a small temple in which the mu- 
 sicians were stationed. Back of this was the word ** Ade- 
 laide," composed of small lights, and all around were emblems 
 of royalty, such as crowns and sceptres, each bearing the 
 initials " A. R." 
 
 We sauntered about for more than an hour, listening to 
 
LETTERS. 337 
 
 the music, and admiring the beautiful scenes around us, now- 
 walking beneath lofty trees, then beside a murmuring water- 
 fall, now amid the beauties of Swiss scenery, and then again 
 through wild scenes of uncultivated nature. In the mean 
 time a man was constantly going around the garden, imi- 
 tating different birds and animals, so that at times it almost 
 seemed that we must be listening to the songs of birds, the 
 quacking of ducks, the cackling of hens and chickens, and 
 the noise of peacocks, owls, calves and sheep. 
 
 After a while the band played " The taking of Jean 
 d'Acre." It was a splendid performance, and the effect was 
 heightened by the explosion of powder in imitation of can- 
 non. When this was finished, a little bell was rung, and we 
 saw the crowd rushing toward a little pavilion, so we ran too, 
 and soon found ourselves in the pit of a small theatre. Here 
 we were obliged to stand up all the time, and thus we could 
 see all that was going on. Mr. Catlin exhibited his Indian 
 scenes, among which were a council, a war-dance, a feast, a 
 wedding, and a scalping, in which he and others, painted 
 and dressed like Indians, performed their parts very well, 
 and, as it seemed to us, in accordance with the customs of 
 the aborigines of our country, but they were not well re- 
 ceived at all, many of the different scenes being hissed. In 
 fact, the noise and bustle, from the time we entered the 
 garden, seemed insupportable, after the quietness and order 
 with which such things are conducted in France. However, 
 John Bull is rather a boisterous fellow, and he will make a 
 bluster whenever he can. 
 
 We again sauntered around the garden, till the fireworks 
 began ; these were very brilliant and beautiful, and lasted 
 some time. In the meantime, a Signora something, walked 
 along a tight rope, which was extended more than three hun- 
 dred feet, and then came back again, with all the ease imag- 
 inable, though amid glare and noise sufficient to shake the 
 most steady nerves. 
 
 We left quite early, that we might secure good seats in the 
 29 
 
338 LETTERS. 
 
 first omnibus, which, notwithstanding our haste, did not 
 leave till the last moment, greatly to the annoyance of an old 
 Scotch gentleman, who became exceedingly impatient, though 
 to us amusingly so. At last we started, but before we got 
 far a cab ran into us, and that hindered us a half hour more, 
 so that although I began this letter Friday night, it is now 
 pretty near Saturday morning, and I must close, or I shall 
 not get sleep enough to fit me for the " wear and tear " of 
 another day. As always, yours. 
 
 London, August 16th. 
 My dearest F. : 
 
 You will begin to think there is to be no end of my letters 
 from this city, but remember there are many things here wor- 
 thy to be seen, and that I cannot dismiss them in too sum- 
 mary a manner. We have become quite English in our 
 habits, no day passing without our walking at least eight 
 miles, and that too in defiance of wind and weather, for I 
 believe it has rained about every day since we have been in 
 England, though this is by no means the rainy season. Au- 
 gust and September are by many here considered the finest 
 months in the year, and every one tells us we see England to 
 the best advantage. This is not the fashionable season 
 however for London, so we cannot have any opportunity to 
 see the great ones, they being at their country seats or at 
 watering places at this time of the year. 
 
 On Saturday wo visited the House of Lords and the House 
 of Commons, in both of which we were much disappointed, 
 and I really do not think they deserve to have any words spent 
 upon them ; but I suppose you will like to know something 
 about them, and that you may have some idea of the petty 
 annoyances we meet with in sight-seeing, I will give you the 
 full particulars connected with our visit. 
 
LETTERS. 339 
 
 We met a man in the street near Westminster Abbey, who 
 asked us if we would like to visit the two Houses. On our 
 answering in the affirmative, he led us to a door, where he 
 gave us over to the care of a woman, who conducted us, not 
 to either House, but to Westminster Hall, where the coro- 
 nation banquet always takes place. It is two hundred and 
 seventy feet long and seventy-two wide, and is one of the 
 longest halls, without a pillar to support the roof, in the 
 world. The ceiling is sustained by rafters of chestnut wood, 
 curiously carved. Ten thousand persons can dine in this 
 hall at once. Here Richard HI. kept his Christmas festival, 
 when twenty-eight oxen, three hundred sheep, and fowls in- 
 numerable were consumed. Each day the guests numbered 
 ten thousand, and two thousand cooks were employed to pre- 
 pare the viands. Our cicerone there demanded one shilling. 
 
 At the door we met our man, who escorted us to the door 
 of the House of Lords, where we were consigned to the 
 hands of another man, who at last led us into the long-talked 
 of House, a moderate sized room with a side gallery, and 
 benches below, covered with red cloth, for the Bishops and 
 Lords, and a common looking throne for the Queen. Here 
 we paid another shilling. As we came out we met our first 
 guide ; he presented a companion to us, saying, " Here is a 
 man who will show you the House of Commons, I can't; six- 
 pence, sir, if you please," and away he went to look out for 
 more strangers. After walking ten steps our fourth guide 
 opened a door, and once more we were given up to the guid- 
 ance of still another man, who in his turn committed us again 
 to female care. And all this ceremony to see the House of 
 Commons, a little " tucked up " room, not bigger or better 
 looking than one of our common court chambers at home ! 
 We turned round and came out, the woman after us, saying, 
 " This is the Ministerial side, sir, and that is the Opposition 
 side, sir ; the House sits next week, sir." We bowed and 
 passed on, but she hurried along, and said, *' A sixpence, sir, 
 if you please, sir." J. motioned as though he would give the 
 
340 LETTERS. 
 
 money to the man at the door, on which she ran up to us and 
 cried out in a whining tone, ** I takes the money, sir." La! 
 I felt so put out at such continual imposition, that I could 
 have scolded her right well. And then the English are con- 
 stantly talking about the impositions practised upon travellers 
 in Italy. Why really it seems to me that we saw nearly all 
 the palaces and churches in Italy at less expense, than the 
 little sight-seeing we have accomplished since we have been 
 in London. It is abominable, and I regularly lose my temper 
 every time I go out. 
 
 Yesterday we spent a quiet Sunday, with Mr. K.'s family. 
 
 Mr. K. was, you know, a classmate of J.'s in B College. 
 
 In the morning we went with them to Surrey Chapel, the 
 very chapel built by Rowland Hill, and in which he formerly 
 preached. It is a large, plain looking chapel, of octagonal 
 shape, with a gallery running entirely around it. It was filled 
 to overflowing. The church service was read by the curate, 
 after which Mr. Sherman, the minister, made a long extem- 
 porary prayer, in which it seemed to me he prayed for almost 
 every body, and under all imaginable cases of necessity, 
 affliction and sickness. His sermon was excellent ; his elo- 
 quence, his energy, are worthy of his predecessor. Under 
 the communion table that predecessor lies buried. 
 
 We did not go to church in the afternoon, but spent the 
 time in quiet reading and conversation. It was truly re- 
 freshing to us, to spend such a day, after the noise and gaiety 
 of Sabbaths on the continent. We left after an early tea, 
 and on our way home stopped at Mr. Noel's church. We 
 were shown into a pew in the gallery, and very soon after we 
 got there, every seat in the house was occupied. The service 
 was read by the same clergyman who officiated the Sunday 
 before, Mr. Noel himself not coming in till after prayers 
 In his sermon we were much interested ; his style and man- 
 ner are gentle, pleasing and persuasive, his address, mild but 
 energetic, his voice is sweetness itself. Though a nobleman, 
 and the son of a peeress, he chose to be a servant of God 
 
LETTERS. 341 
 
 rather than of pleasure, and to lay his wealth and his honors 
 at his Master's feet. 
 
 We have to-day taken a delightful excursion to Richmond 
 and its environs. Directly after breakfast we started to walk 
 to the steam -boat, which was advertised to leave at ten 
 o'clock. At all the cross-walks in the fashionable streets we 
 meet men or women, who take it upon themselves to keep 
 the passage clean for foot-passengers. They run before you, 
 using their broom to such purpose, that although the streets 
 may be muddy, (and when are they otherwise in London?) you 
 pass without detriment to your well polished boots and shoes. 
 Each one generally expects a ha'penny for his services. In 
 John street there is a Hindoo who sweeps the cross-walk, 
 and he looks up so imploringly yet submissively at the passers 
 by, and turns away with such meek sorrow when he gets 
 nothing, that I can never pass him without giving him some- 
 thing. Several times I have tried to enter into conversation 
 with him, but he never will answer me. 
 
 We passed through the Hungerford market, a solid stone 
 building, in the upper story of which are fruit, vegetables, 
 butter, eggs, cheese, &lc., and in the lower, nice looking fish, 
 oysters, crabs and lobsters. We do not fancy the oysters 
 here, they have a " coppery " taste. We have many spats at 
 our boarding-house in relation to this same subject, the Eng- 
 lish maintaining that their oysters are the nicest ; the Ameri- 
 cans, with their usual national preferences, standing up for 
 their own ; and as is customary with all such controver- 
 sies, each party seems to have no chance of convincing the 
 other. 
 
 We were more than two hours in going to Richmond, 
 though but ten miles from London, but we were obliged to 
 pick our way through steamers, and sailboats and wherries 
 innumerable. We did not find the sail at all tedious, for 
 many different objects of interest attracted our attention. 
 We passed under several of the bridges over the Thames, and 
 so had a good opportuninity of noticing how firmly and sol- 
 29* 
 
342 LETTERS. 
 
 idly they were built. The banks of the river, after we got 
 out of the city, were low, and bordered with handsome parks 
 and villas. The meadows were covered with the richest green, 
 and sprinkled over with venerable old trees. We passed the 
 villa of the Duke of Northumberland, and that of the Duchess 
 of Kent, where Victoria spent her youthful days. 
 
 As soon as we stopped at Richmond we took an omnibus 
 for Hampton Court. I think (an Englishman "thinks" 
 when a Yankee *' guesses,") the ride was pleasant, though 
 the " bus " was so crammed, I merely caught snatches of the 
 country. The approach to Hampton Court was delightful, 
 through a beautiful park called Bushy Park, belonging to the 
 Q,ueen Dowager. Under the trees were groups of people 
 enjoying a rural dinner. 
 
 Hampton Court was commenced by Cardinal Wolsey, but 
 was given to Henry VHI. in 1526. It is an immense pal- 
 ace, built in different styles of architecture. The rooms 
 were crowded with visitors, the palace being thrown open to 
 the public, and no fees are demanded. There are some su- 
 perb paintings by the old Italian masters, but the most of the 
 pictures are portraits by English artists. Independent of 
 their own intrinsic merits, they afforded us much interest 
 and amusement from the different styles and manners therein 
 portrayed. One room is filled with portraits of the belles of 
 the two Charleses. They are indeed exquisitely beautiful. 
 Pity that so much moral depravity should have been con- 
 cealed under such winning faces and forms. 
 
 The King's state-bed has hangings of purple satin, richly 
 embroidered. The Queen's bed-curtains are of velvet. 
 There is but little furniture however in this palace. It is 
 mostly visited for its pictures. Quite as great a treat to us 
 was the park. It is laid out in magnificent style, I think 
 even superior to that at Versailles. The majestic trees, the 
 open glades, the beautiful flowers, the lakes and canals, the 
 deer gambolling about, all conspire to make it enchanting. 
 It seems to me that the green of the meadows is brighter and 
 
LETTERS. 343 
 
 richer here than any where else. I could have rambled for 
 hours in that delightful spot. What a fit place for meditation 
 at eventide, and at early morn, when the repose of all nature 
 leads the soul, with its freshest, purest thoughts, to God ! 
 
 Nor must I forget the green-house, in which is the largest 
 grape vine in the world. Really the stem is like the trunk 
 of a small tree, it being thirteen inches round. In one year 
 this vine produced two thousand two hundred and seventy- 
 two bunches, which were all appropriated for the Queen's 
 table. It is already loaded with purple clusters. One branch 
 of the vine is over one hundred feet long. 
 
 In one part of the park is ** the maze," or wilderness. It 
 only covers a quarter of an acre, yet one might be kept 
 there two or three hours. There are two paths, one at the 
 right of the entrance, the other at the left. They wind and 
 twist and turn about, till in attempting to follow them, you 
 get completely bewildered, and it is by no means an easy 
 task to find your way out. The paths are bordered by a 
 high hawthorn hedge, so that no one can jump over, or even 
 peep through to see how he is coming out. We got out 
 sooner than any of the others, but we were a long time 
 wandering about, sometimes being quite " fetched up," and 
 then being obliged to turn around, and get into another 
 path. The bursts of laughter resounding from every side, 
 told how amusingly perplexing all found it. 
 
 We came back to Richmond in " a fly," an open carriage, 
 so we had a good opportunity to view the rich country and 
 beautiful villas. We passed a splendid house in the Gothic 
 style, belonging to Lord Waldegrave, formerly owned by 
 Horace Walpole. It is a perfect gem. 
 
 We walked some time around -Richmond, a pretty little 
 town. We went into the church where Thomson is 
 buried. A tablet on the wall bears the following inscrip- 
 tion : " In the earth below this tablet, are the remains of 
 James Thomson, author of the beautiful poems, entitled 
 The Seasons, The Castle of Indolence, &/C., who died at 
 
344 LETTERS. 
 
 Richmond, on the 22d of August, and was buried there on 
 the 28th, O. S., 1748. The Earl of Buchan, unwilling that 
 so good a man and so sweet a poet, should be without a 
 memorial, has denoted the place of his interment for the 
 satisfaction of his admirers, in the year of our Lord 1792." 
 Underneath is this from his Winter. 
 
 " Father of light and life ! Thou good Supreme ! 
 Oh ! teach me what is good ; teach me thyself, 
 Save me from folly, vanity and vice, 
 From every low pursuit, and feed my soul 
 With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure, 
 Sacred, substantial, never fading bliss." 
 
 We attempted to find the house where the poet used to 
 live, supposing, of course, every body would know so dis- 
 tinguished a spot. We were told in London that it was in 
 Kewfoot Lane ; this we easily found, but not thus easily the 
 house. In vain we asked ; no one knew " Mr. Thomson." 
 We asked a young girl if she could tell us where " Rossdale 
 house" was. She said "No," but that she knew where 
 Rose cottage was, and that a Mrs. Steele lived there. We 
 asked her if it was where Thomson formerly lived. " Oh no, 
 I think not," said she, *' for Mrs. Steele has lived there for 
 some time." Just as we were on the point of giving up the 
 pursuit, we found the house. We rang the bell at the gate. 
 A maid came, and in answer to' our inquiries if we could 
 see Thomson's garden, said " her ladyship permits strangers 
 to go in." So without knowing who " her ladyship " was, 
 we went in. 
 
 How beautiful is this garden ! A man quite uninspired 
 by the spirit of poesy might here be prompted to write. 
 Every thing was as neat and orderly as possible, and the 
 gardener told us it was just as Thomson left it. In the 
 most rural part of the grounds are his favorite seat, (a small 
 arbor,) and the very table on which he wrote. Over the 
 entrace to the arbor is written, 
 
 " Here Thomson sung the seasons and their change." 
 
LETTERS. 345 
 
 Report says he was one of the laziest men that ever lived, 
 and that although he wrote so beautifully of the charms of 
 the early morning, he was a late riser. He used to walk 
 about the garden with his hands in his pockets, too indolent 
 to pick the fruit from the trees, but he would stop under 
 them, and bite out a piece when within his reach. 
 
 Just as we were starting from Richmond, a policeman 
 came and took away our captain. It was a long time before 
 we could make out what all the fuss was about, but by dint 
 of inquiries, it seemed that as the boat was coming down 
 the river, and was passing under a bridge, it ran against a 
 little boat, capsizing it, and thereby causing a young man 
 in it to be drowned ; so the boat was not allowed to leave 
 Richmond to night, and we were obliged to wait an hour 
 for another boat to come along. It was nearly sunset when 
 we started, and we had a charming sail down the river. 
 The air was balmy, and the scenery seemed inexpressively 
 lovely, seen as it was by the softened light of the closing 
 day. 
 
 Let me record the fact that it has not rained to-day, at 
 least not where we have been ; it may have been a little 
 more pleasant in the country than in the smoky city. I 
 must tell you how disappointed we have been to-day, in 
 hearing that her Majesty is not to open Parliament next 
 week, her physicians having declared that it would be de- 
 cidedly disadvantageous in her present state of health ; so 
 we must take a trip to Windsor, for we cannot think of 
 going home without seeing the " island queen." Again, 
 adieu. 
 
346 LETTERS. 
 
 London, Wednesday eve. 
 My dear p. : 
 
 Still in London, and still spending several hours a day in 
 seeing the lions of this great metropolis. Through the 
 kindness of our friend, Mr. P., we were furnished with 
 tickets for the Polytechnic Institution, a receptacle for all 
 sorts of inventions, and where lectures are daily given on 
 some scientific subject. It is in reality a museum, in which 
 there is a little of every thing. I cannot begin to enumerate 
 the " things which I saw " there. There were all kinds of 
 machines for stamping, engraving, coining, grinding, and 
 cutting, a printing press, throwing off daily copies of the 
 journal of the institution, agricultural instruments, models 
 of churches, monuments and ships, a canal with locks, to 
 show the principles on which they are constructed, and a 
 diving-bell, the experiments with which we could not see, as 
 they did not take place till later in the day. We saw also 
 tables of marble and porphyry, chessboards made of marble 
 and rare woods in imitation of mosaic, chessmen of exquisite 
 workmanship, boxes made by the Chinese, two tables that 
 could play several tunes, clocks of all forms, and specimens 
 of the most minute cutlery ever made, little scissors, knives, 
 and a small razor. In addition to these, there was a minia- 
 ture compass, and a pair of spectacles, about large enough 
 for a sixpenny doll. 
 
 We heard a lecture on the Daguerreotype process of paint- 
 ing, just now coming in vogue. It was exceedingly interest- 
 ing to us, but I will not bore you with any analysis of the 
 subject. 
 
 At one o'clock we went into a darkened hall, where we 
 saw something entirely new to us, called '' Dissolving Views." 
 The first was a sea scene, and while we were looking at it, 
 the ship melted away, and a castle, in the midst of mountain 
 scenery, appeared in its stead, one view not succeeding an- 
 other, as in the magic lantern, but constituent parts of one 
 
LETTERS. 347 
 
 scene, instantly resolving themselves into constituent parts 
 of another. The castle was soon converted into a church, 
 where " adown the long aisle" was seen a procession of 
 priests clad in white robes, while the illusion was increased 
 by hearing singing and music at a little distance. Some of 
 the scenes were quite familiar to us, the Castle of Chillon 
 on Lake Geneva, the Campo Santo at Pisa, and the Palace 
 of the Doges in Venice. This last was perfect; the light 
 Gothic arches, the blue water, dotted with gondolas, carried 
 us quickly back to "the city of the hundred isles." 
 
 At one time we gazed on a large ship at sea, her sails all 
 set, and she apparently cutting her way through the waves. In 
 a moment the scene was changed, the sea was convulsed, the 
 ship lay on her " beam ends," and the water poured over her 
 sides. It made me shudder to think of the wide ocean which 
 we have yet to traverse, and that the fate of that ship might 
 be ours also. Again we saw an East Indiaman close to land, 
 hailing once more the welcome shore, but in a second, that 
 gallant ship was lit up with lurid flames, and sail after sail 
 caught and spread the devastating element. 
 
 We were much pleased with these views, because so unlike 
 any thing we have ever before seen. 
 
 We next visited the National Gallery, a large and hand- 
 some building in Trafalgar square. In the Gallery we were 
 highly delighted. How could it be otherwise ? For there I 
 heard names that made my heart beat quickly ; Guido, Ra- 
 phael, Coreggio, Da Vinci, Murillo, Titian, Tintoretto, Ca- 
 racci, Rubens, Rembrandt, and Claude. These seemed 
 dearer to me than ever, because I never expected to meet 
 them more, except in print. Here Coreggio seemed more 
 faultless than ever. Shall I soon forget the expression of 
 agony on the face of Christ, as He appears with the purple 
 robe of scorn and the crown of thorns, whilst those who oft 
 ministered to Him, stand by with sorrowing faces ? And 
 then the sweet face of Mary in his " Holy Family," and the 
 seraphic look of Raphael's St, Catherine, and the mild, per- 
 
348 LETTERS. 
 
 suasive, gentle face of Christ in Da Vinci's " Christ Dis- 
 puting with the Doctors," and those sunny landscapes of 
 Claude's, and the charming figures by Murillo, — oh, these 
 were all inexpressively lovely ! 
 
 But were I to describe all, it would take me half the night ; 
 suffice it to say that there are more than two hundred pic- 
 tures by the " old masters," and nearly every one of them is 
 good. Some of Titian's and Rubens' we thought not equal 
 to those we saw in Italy. 
 
 Besides these, there are many paintings by English ar- 
 tists, of whose productions we have hitherto seen but few 
 specimens. Reynolds, Wilkie, Hogarth and West are the 
 most celebrated. Reynolds I do not like ; Hogarth and 
 Wilkie depict humorous scenes ; West is too well known in 
 your own country to need a panegyric here. 
 
 You will notice that I have not my usual variety of de- 
 scriptions in this letter, for I have been obliged to rest a little 
 more the last two days than I have lately done. I am indeed 
 quite wearied out. To-morrow we change the scene by leav- 
 ing London for a few days, so look out for something new in 
 my next letter. 
 
 WiNDSOBj Saturday eve. 
 My dear p.: 
 
 Prepare yourself now for a long letter. Lay in a good 
 stock of patience, for before I get through, I shall encroach 
 pretty largely upon it. Since we left London, I have been 
 so busy that I have had no time to write to you, so I must 
 sum up all our adventures in this one epistle. 
 
 On Thursday morning we left London for Cambridge. 
 For the first time I mounted on the top of a coach, with 
 which elevated position I was so much pleased, that I shall 
 not hereafter readily relinquish it. The country through 
 
LETTERS. 349 
 
 which we passed was delightful, and I already appreciate the 
 praises bestowed upon English scenery. It has not, to be 
 sure, the high mountains and secluded vales of Switzerland, 
 nor the vine-clad hills and orange and lemon groves of fair 
 Italy, nor the sunny plains of Lombardy ; but it has the 
 charms arising from a well cultivated and well watered land. 
 It has rural and domestic beauty well combined. 
 
 We passed through a country sufficiently hilly to prevent 
 the scenery from being tame ; the meadows were clothed 
 with the brightest green, or yellow with the ripened grain. 
 The cows lay in luxurious indolence under the shade of an- 
 cient trees, and the sheep browsed upon the hill-side, and the 
 little villages had a neat and clean and thrifty look. And 
 then the country seats and parks that we passed, so beautiful 
 and so well laid out, with the large old trees and velvet lawns, 
 and the pretty hawthorn hedge intersecting the fields in every 
 direction, and the laborers at work, binding the wheat into 
 sheaves, or raking the newly mown hay, or resting beneath 
 the trees, taking their rural meal ; the busy gleaners, scat- 
 tered over a field but lately shorn of its grain ; all these added 
 beauty to the scene, and made the landscape charming in the 
 highest degree. 
 
 Cambridge is a common looking town ; the streets are 
 narrow, and the houses not very handsome, but the beauty 
 and the glory of the place are its Colleges. We spent two 
 hours in rambling around them, our hearts yearning after 
 their quiet beauties, and longing to be among the favored 
 ones permitted to study amid these classic shades. There are 
 seventeen different colleges, each being built of light colored 
 stone, in Gothic style. The courts of these buildings are 
 kept in the nicest manner ; gravel walks run around them, 
 but the centre is covered with grass, not high and waving, 
 but closely shorn, seem.ing like velvet to the touch. 
 
 We visited King's College Chapel. Who has not heard 
 of it 1 Yet in hearing, the half is not known ; it must be 
 seen to be appreciated. It is in the purest Gothic style, 
 30 
 
350 LETTERS, 
 
 having towers and buttresses and large painted windows. If 
 the exterior strikes the eye, the interior at once fixes your 
 attention. It is three hundred feet long, and is without a 
 pillar, the roof being supported entirely by the buttresses, so 
 that if the walls were removed, the roof would still stand 
 firmly. And this is the more wonderful, because the roof is 
 of solid stone, and is of immense weight and strength. The 
 walls are adorned with handsome carvings, among which are 
 the arms of Henry VII. The screen between the choir and 
 the nave is of oak, beautifully carved, and having the arms 
 of Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn. Within the choir are 
 seats or stalls, finely carved, and at the upper end of the 
 choir, a magnificent window of riclily stained glass. 
 
 By winding steps we ascended to the roof, where we had 
 a good opportunity to survey the beauties around us. We 
 could look down into all the quadrangles of the colleges, 
 upon the neat chaste edifices, upon the river Cam, not wider, 
 to be sure, than a mill stream, but bordered by the most 
 beautiful trees, through which peeped many a rustic bridge, 
 and upon the delightful walks stretching beyond. 
 
 After we left the chapel, we crossed the river by one of 
 the bridges, and for more than an hour loitered around under 
 those fine old trees. The sky was unclouded, the air was 
 soft, the birds sang cheerily, and the setting sun threw a 
 golden tint over the fair landscape. While we walked we 
 communed with by-gone days, thinking of the old illustrious 
 dead who oft had trod these very paths, hallowing the spot by 
 their pious sentiments. And how well calculated is such a 
 scene for holy contemplations, for all things speak of God. 
 The very trees seemed to lift their lofty tops to the sky in 
 praise of Him, the whole air was redolent with His love, and 
 the perfect silence that reigned through these walks, ren- 
 dered them more fit to be a temple for the living God. 
 
 These walks extend two or three miles from the river. 
 Each college has its own bridge over the Cam, and its own 
 walks. We were loath to leave so charming a spot, but at last 
 
LETTERS. 351 
 
 we were forced to retrace our steps. Then through the trees 
 we caught many glimpses of the noble buildings, and occa- 
 sionally met a stray student wearing the collegiate gown and 
 cap, and wandering along the now desolate walks, for this is 
 the period of " the long vacation." 
 
 We were all day yesterday on the way from Cambridge to 
 Oxford, the distance being ninety miles. The ride was truly 
 delightful, the country still more charming than the day be- 
 fore. Just after we left Cambridge, we met the gleaners 
 going from the fields, their garments wet with the dew, and 
 their arms loaded with grain. I thought from the abun- 
 dance gleaned that there must have been a Boaz to com- 
 mand the reapers to let fall a few ears for the handmaidens. 
 
 We passed through many towns, having names reminding 
 us of home; Ellington, Hingham, Northampton, and others. 
 We also passed by many country seats. Lord Southampton's 
 park bordered for some distance one side of the road. The 
 village near his estate is a pretty, rustic little thing, the 
 houses having Gothic porches. We saw, at a little distance, 
 Stowe, the seat of the Duke of Buckingham, and Blenheim, 
 presented to the Duke of Marlborough by the crown, after 
 the battle of Blenheim. The country abounded with church- 
 es, mostly in the Gothic style. At one time when we were 
 on the summit of a hill, we counted eight spires. 
 
 As we entered Oxford, we passed by the monument being 
 erected to the martyrs. The pedestal is square, but the top 
 is to be finished in Gothic style, having niches for the statues 
 of Cranmer, Latimer and Ridley. 
 
 We were a little disappointed in Oxford, perhaps because 
 we had heard it so highly lauded. The town is doubtless 
 superior to Cambridge, but the buildings connected with the 
 University are inferior to those of the former place, and the 
 grounds around them are not half so pretty nor so nicely 
 kept, the grass growing in many places wild and long. In 
 short, every thing looks as if it was going to decay. The 
 colleges have an antique appearance, though many of them 
 
352 LETTERS. 
 
 have lately been repaired. There are nineteen colleges and 
 five halls ; some of them have singular names — " Jesus Col- 
 lege," "Body of Christ," ''All Souls'," and "Magdalen." 
 The oldest of them is "University College," which was com- 
 menced in 872. 
 
 We visited the principal edifices to the ruination of our 
 pockets, being obliged at each place to give at least one shil- 
 ling. We first went into the hall where the prize poems are 
 recited, and the degrees conferred. This, the female cice- 
 rone told us, is an imposing sight. The Duke of Welling- 
 ton, as Chancellor, sits in his chair of state, and wears a 
 robe of black satin, trimmed with gold lace; the noblemen 
 appear in purple robes, while the Dean and high officers of 
 the University are decked in crimson array. This hall is in 
 the form of an amphitheatre, and will seat four thousand per- 
 sons. I had the honor of sitting in the chair of the " Iron 
 Duke," a high-back chair of dark oak. Among the portraits 
 in this hall, were those of the Emperor of Austria and the 
 King of Prussia, taken at the time the degrees were confer- 
 red upon them. We also were shown the chair in which 
 Prince Albert sat when he received the degree, (though of 
 what I know not.) It was of crimson velvet in a frame of 
 oak gilded. 
 
 We visited three chapels, of which I shall say but little. 
 These were all in the Gothic style, and all had windows of 
 stained glass, some five hundred years old, and some of more 
 recent date. In " New College Chapel " we saw a crosier 
 belonging to one of the old bishops ; it is shaped like a shep- 
 herd's crook, and is inlaid with gold and silver. Behind this 
 chapel was a fine walk, bordered with flowers. The wall 
 surrounding it is a part of the old city wall, now overgrown 
 with ivy. 
 
 In the quadrangle front of Magdalen College, we saw in 
 one corner, a little pulpit, called " Friar Bacon's pulpit," 
 from which he used to preach. At the opposite end is the 
 house of the Provost ; he has been in office fifty-one years, 
 and is the oldest Fellow of the College in Oxford. 
 
LETTERS. 353 
 
 Cf all the chapels in Oxford, Magdalen Chapel is the most 
 beautiful. It has been lately fitted up, but in the same style 
 as of old. The seats are of carved oak, the walls and ceil- 
 ing are of stone, richly sculptured. The altar is covered 
 with bas-reliefs, representing the Annunciation, the Nativity, 
 the Deposition from the Cross, the Resurrection and the As- 
 cension. Besides this, there is a magnificent painting of 
 Christ bearing the Cross, supposed for a long time to have 
 been by Guido, but now known to be by Morallio, a Spanish 
 artist, whose works are very rare. I asked our cicerone if 
 he was sure that was the name, for I never before heard it, 
 but although he repeated his assertion, I think he must have 
 been mistaken, and that the painter was Murillo. But be it 
 by whom it may, it is an exquisite gem. The face is ex- 
 pressive of pain, yet full of meek submission, and the body 
 bends under the weight of the heavy cross. 
 
 In a little chapel formerly used as a private oratory, is the 
 tomb of the founder of the College, the father of Bishop 
 Winchester. It is of alabaster, surmounted by a recumbent 
 statue of the deceased. The arms of the family are a lily ; 
 hence the abundance of lilies in the carvings about the 
 chapel. 
 
 Magdalen College is the largest of all the colleges, and 
 looks much fresher and neater than the other buildings, it 
 having been recently repaired. Back of it is a circular walk 
 planted around with trees, the branches of which meet at the 
 top. This is called " Addison's Walk," having been the 
 favorite resort of that poet. The plat in the centre is but 
 poorly cared for, the grass growing rank and high. 
 
 We visited Christ Church, built in the old Saxon style 
 with round arches. Among the tombs there is one of a saint, 
 a daughter of one of the Saxon kings. It is two stories high, 
 and the steps leading to the top are quite worn, having been 
 much used by the devotees of past ages. 
 
 We walked by St. Peter's Church, the oldest in the town, 
 being more than eleven hundred years old. The walls were 
 30* 
 
354 LETTERS. 
 
 SO thick, that enough has been taken from the interior to 
 make room for sixty more seats in the church. It has an 
 antique appearance. In fact, every thing about the colleges 
 at Oxford bears the appearance of age, and in some places 
 even of decay, so that at first they suffer in comparison with 
 the perfect neatness and finish of the buildings at Cambridge, 
 though I think they grow upon one's affections and fancy, 
 after a while. 
 
 From Oxford we came here partly by coach and partly by 
 rail-road. On the rail-road we came very rapidly, I think 
 rather quicker than our usual rate of travelling at home. 
 When in London our friends advised us in going on the rail- 
 road, always to take the second-class cars. At this we de- 
 murred, pleading that we never did any thing of the kind at 
 home, but we were told in answer to all our objections, that 
 every body practised it in this country, except the nobility 
 and the very richest and most exclusive persons, and that 
 furthermore the first-class carriages were so shut up, that it 
 was impossible to see any thing from them, so we finally 
 yielded, and to-day took the second-class, generally half or 
 three fourths the price of the first-class. By the way, you 
 never hear the word *' cars" here ; they are called carriages. 
 A rail-road is " rail-way," and in speaking of the hours of 
 starting, they say, the " rail goes." Depots are " stations" 
 here. The arrangements on this road, a part of '* the Great 
 Western Rail-way," are admirable. At regular intervals 
 men are stationed, to see that there is nothing on the track, 
 and if all is clear at the time of the '* rail " coming along, 
 they stand with their arm extended, and thus they can be 
 seen from some distance. If they are not at their posts, the 
 engineer slackens his pace, and thus the most perfect care is 
 taken to avoid accidents. The doors of the ** carriages " 
 are locked, so that no one can get in or out, without the 
 knowledge of the conductor. All the men employed on this 
 road wear an uniform of dark green cloth, corded with red, 
 having on the collar of the coat the letters G. W. R. 
 
LETTERS. 355 
 
 The stopping place for Windsor is Slough, two miles from 
 here, where we took a cab. We eagerly looked out for the 
 Castle, and as soon as we caught sight of it we saw the broad 
 pennon waving from the top of " the round tower," in token 
 that her majesty was yet there. Had she left for London, 
 we intended returning this evening. 
 
 As soon as we selected our rooms at the hotel, we started 
 off for the Castle. It is a noble pile of buildings in the cas- 
 tellated Gothic style, ornamented with towers and buttresses 
 and arched gateways. It is built of small slabs of grey stone, 
 and is surrounded by a magnificent park, extending more 
 than fourteen miles around. Just as we reached the front of 
 the Castle, we were told that the Princess Royal was ex- 
 pected out, so we joined with the multitude eager to see the 
 royal baby. While waiting, we gazed around, first on the 
 castle, then on the park, longing to be walking beneath some 
 of those old majestic trees. Directly in front of the gate of 
 the castle, and within the park, stretches a straight road, two 
 miles long, bordered with noble oaks. This is called " the 
 long walk," and is usually the ride of the royal party. But 
 the sound of wheels within one of the courts of the castle, 
 recalled our attention, the porter with a flourish opened the 
 gates, and out came a horseman, followed by a barouche, in 
 which sat the nurse, holding in her arms the heir apparent 
 to the throne, the Princess Victoria Adelaide Maria Louisa. 
 She is a cunning little thing, about nine months old, and is 
 really quite pretty, with her fair complexion and light blue 
 eyes. For the amusement of the women-kind at home, I 
 will tell you how she was dressed, and let them judge how 
 becoming such a costume would be. She wore a white cam- 
 bric pelisse, having a great wide cape, and a broad black 
 belt, and a straw bonnet, trimmed around the crown with 
 white plaited ribbon, and quite large enough for a child four 
 years old. And this little sprig of royalty has her carriage 
 and horses and attendants, and takes her airing twice every 
 day, which event is duly announced in the " London Times" 
 
356 LETTERS. 
 
 the next day. Furthermore, she is allowed the nice sum of 
 ten thousand pounds a year for her individual expenses. 
 
 The baby has passed by ; the crowds have duly bowed 
 and paid their court to it, and once more turn to the castle 
 gate to await the coming of the royal mother. Every eye is 
 turned to the clock, for the queen is known to be punctual, 
 and just at the moment, the gate once more swings back, 
 and two horsemen issue therefrom, announcing the coming 
 of the queen. She came in a low open carriage, drawn by 
 two horses, and driven by " His Royal Highness Prince Albert 
 of Saxe Cobourg." So totally unlike is she from all the 
 portraits I have seen of her, that I thought I must be mis- 
 taken, and I drew back from the crowd, saying, in a tone of 
 disappointment, '' Is that her majesty ? " The carriage came 
 slowly along, so I had a good opportunity to take a full sur- 
 vey (everybody is allowed to stare at royalty). She has a 
 light though not a clear complexion, bluish grey eyes, a small 
 mouth, but full lips, and rather projecting teeth, and is ex- 
 cessively grave looking. To the bows and greetings of the 
 multitude, she answered by an almost imperceptible inclina- 
 tion of the head, and a slight wave of the hand, which by 
 the way is small and well shaped, but no smile appeared on 
 her lips. Prince Albert, too, looked quite as grave, which 
 made me think they had been having a matrimonial squabble; 
 but doubtless they do not consider it consistent with royal 
 dignity to laugh and look cheerful, at least in public. " His 
 Royal Highness " is a fine looking man ; and to-day was 
 dressed entirely in black, even to a weed upon his hat, being 
 in mourning for some of his German cousins. To the edifi- 
 cation of , I will tell you how her majesty was dressed. 
 
 She was almost covered with a large cashmere shawl, and 
 wore a pale pink bonnet. Her dress differed in no respect 
 from that of any ordinary gentlewoman's, at least to my eye. 
 Doubtless on state occasions she looks the queen. 
 
 Their carriage was followed by several gentlemen on 
 horseback, attended by their grooms, and by two carriages, 
 
LETTERS. 357 
 
 in which were " the ladies in waiting," the Duchess of Kent, 
 (mother to the queen,) Lord John Russell, a middle-aged man, 
 thin and pale, and his young bride, a beautiful creature. 
 
 We also saw the royal cavalcade when it returned. The 
 baby was held up to the admiring gaze of the spectators ; 
 the gentlemen bowing to it, and the ladies kissing their 
 hands. The queen looked a little more pleasant, and bowed 
 more graciously, but without smiling. I had the honor of 
 receiving a bow from her majesty. Oh ! but shan't I be 
 proud when I get home, to tell that I have been bowed to by 
 the Pope and the dueen of Great Britain ! I hope, how- 
 ever, to bear these honors with all becoming meekness. 
 
 To account for the queen's gravity at the present time, 
 "they say" she is troubled at the gloomy aspect of affairs; 
 or, in newspaper parlance, that " the royal mind is per- 
 plexed." Besides, too, she is not well now, so that may make 
 some difference. But what a bore it must be every time she 
 rides out to be obliged to meet a crowd ! I declare, when 
 I think more soberly about it, I don't wonder she looked 
 grave. 
 
 We spent the two hours, which elapsed during " the 
 drive" of her majesty, in looking about the castle. The 
 rooms at present occupied by the royal family are never 
 shown to visitors. They open upon the terrace, and com- 
 mand fine views of the park. In the centre of the terrace, 
 which slopes gently down, is a flower garden, well laid out, 
 and ornamented with statues in bronze and marble, and two 
 vases of exquisite workmanship. The terrace is quite a 
 favorite walk with her majesty. 
 
 The state apartments of the castle we visited, walking quite 
 leisurely through them, having sufficient time to examine 
 the fine paintings. As this castle is the summer retreat of 
 England's queen, perhaps you will be interested in further 
 details concerning it. 
 
 The first room we entered was the " Vandyke room," so 
 called because all the pictures are by that great master. 
 
35S LETTERS. 
 
 They are mostly portraits of the family of Charles I. There 
 are five different portraits of the beautiful and unfortunate 
 Henrietta Maria. The walls of the room are hung with 
 crimson damask, wrought with the insignia of the orders of 
 the Garter, St. Patrick and the Bath, interspersed with the 
 rose, the shamrock, and the thistle. 
 
 Next comes the Q,ueen's drawing-room, the walls lined 
 with damask, embroidered with the arms of William IV. and 
 Adelaide. The ceiling of this, and indeed of many of the 
 rooms, is of stucco, embellished with cornices of oak well 
 carved, and having in the centre a large panel surrounded 
 by the oak, the shamrock, and the thistle. In this room are 
 some exquisite landscapes by Zuccinelli, a name I never 
 heard before. They come nearer those of Claude Lorraine 
 than of any other paintings I have seen, though they want 
 that clear, golden light which Claude sheds over all his 
 scenes. 
 
 Adjoining this room is one called the " Queen's closet," 
 probably a kind of cabinet. It is a small, oblong room, the 
 ceiling decked with festoons of fruit and flowers. The 
 hangings are of pale blue silk, having the letters A. R. over 
 a crown. The mirrors and the pictures here are in frames 
 of silver. Among the pictures are two sweet scenes by 
 Claude, a head by Leonardo da Vinci, two portraits by 
 Holbein, and several figures by Rubens, Rembrandt, and 
 Teniers. 
 
 Then came the King's closet, the ceiling ornamented with 
 naval emblems, the anchor and trident. The hangings 
 are crimson damask, and are wrought with the rose, the 
 shamrock, the thistle, and the letters W. R. Among the 
 paintings by " the old masters," there is an excellent Ma- 
 donna, and an " Ecce homo," by my favorite Carlo Dolci, 
 and St. Catherine and St. Sebastian by Guido. 
 
 The King's council-room and drawing-room have some 
 fine pictures. In the drawing-room is a large oriel window, 
 from which there is a lovely view of the park. Four im- 
 
LETTERS. 359 
 
 mense mirrors adorn the walls. We saw here a chair made 
 from the roof of Alloway kirk, (mentioned in Burns' "Tarn 
 O' Shanter,") having on the back a brass tablet, on which 
 that poem is engraved. 
 
 The throne room is splendid. Unlike most throne rooms, 
 it is hung with deep blue velvet, (called here garter blue,) 
 and the throne is under a canopy of the same material. In 
 this room George III. laid in state, for a few days previous 
 to his burial. 
 
 Next we entered " the Waterloo chamber." It is lighted 
 by windows in thf3 ceiling, and the walls are covered with 
 the portraits of sovereigns, generals, and eminent men, who 
 were either engaged in the battle of Waterloo, or who lived 
 at that time. Here William IV. laid in state. 
 
 Then comes the ball-room, ninety-six feet long. The 
 walls are hung with six largn pieces of Gobelin tapestry. 
 There are five chandeliers in this room. St. George's Hall 
 is two hundred feet long. The ceiling is of dark oak in 
 Saxon arches, and has the arms of all the knights of the 
 garter. The walls are plentifully sprinkled with shields, 
 helmets, and spears. The south side of the room is almost 
 entirely filled with windows, and opposite to tl:em are full- 
 length portraits of the last eleven sovereigns of England. At 
 either end is a music gallery ; and under a canopy is an oak 
 chair of the time of Ethelbert, who reigned in the ninth 
 century. 
 
 Next comes the guard-room. The ceiling and walls are 
 painted to imitate stars. Around the room are pieces of 
 ancient armor, and weapons of warfare. At the upper end 
 is a part of the foremast of the Victory, which was perforated 
 by a ball at the battle of Trafalgar ; and on top of the 
 mast is a colossal bust of Nelson, and on either side a beauti- 
 ful piece of ordnance, inlaid with silver and gold, taken from 
 Tippoo Saib at the battle of Seringapatam. 
 
 Then we came to the grand staircase, and '' grand " it is, 
 lighted from the top, and having balustrades of stone, well 
 sculptured. 
 
360 LETTERS. 
 
 In all these rooms the furniture was covered, but I satis- 
 fied my woman's curiosity by peeping under the covers. 
 The chairs and settees were in all instances of the same 
 materials as the hangings of the rooms. 
 
 The newspapers and guide-books say the castle is open to 
 the public every Saturday and Sunday ; and so we went 
 through all the rooms without thinking about the pay, but 
 as we came down the stairs, lo ! we were met by a female 
 guard, who politely demanded a shilling from each one. So 
 " open to the public," in the English dictionary, means " pay 
 one shilling." 
 
 We then went to " the round tower," a large circular 
 tower on a high mound, and inhabited by the governor of 
 the castle. We mounted by about two hundred steps to the 
 top, where we had a grand view of the park and the country 
 around. We could trace for miles the windings of the 
 Thames, and had a near view of the old Gothic college of 
 Eton, on the opposite side of the river. From this elevated 
 spot twelve different counties may be seen, and even the 
 dome of St. Paul's in London, twenty-one miles distant. This 
 tower is also " open to the public," and on the same con- 
 ditions as the castle. 
 
 You may well suppose that after this day's work, we are 
 some tired ; and I think I may be excused from, writing any 
 more, though I have not encroached so largely on that stock 
 of patience as I threatened to. However, do not flatter 
 yourself that I have got through ; for, as I cannot send this 
 letter before Monday, I shall leave it open till I am able to 
 give you an account of our Sunday at Windsor. 
 
 Sunday evening. 
 This morning we went to St. George's Chapel, a fine 
 Gothic edifice connected with Windsor Castle. We were 
 not allowed to enter till a few minutes before service com- 
 menced. As soon as the door was opened, there was such 
 
LETTERS. 361 
 
 a rush for seats, that we were hurried through the nave into 
 the choir, without having an opportunity even to glance 
 around. In the choir where service was performed, the seats 
 are of dark oak, having Gothic pinnacles beautifully carved. 
 Over them hang the banners of the knights of St. George. 
 The organ is finished off in the same style as the stalls. The 
 service was chanted, the psalms for the day, the creed and the 
 liturgy ; and the prayer and the lessons were read in such a 
 tone, that one might almost say they were chanted too. 
 
 The Queen and Prince Albert were there ; but so con- 
 cealed in their little box in the gallery, that we caught but 
 few glimpses of them. I do not know who was the preacher, 
 but his sermon was truly excellent and practical. 
 
 After the sermon a long anthem was sung, in which a boy 
 having a sweet, rich voice bore the most prominent part. 
 The queen and the prince entered into it with great zest ; 
 keeping time with their heads, and singing with much 
 spirit. 
 
 After service was over, we saw the queen and her royal 
 consort ride from the chapel ; though but a stone's throw to 
 their apartments, they rarely walk. We went back to the 
 church to view the monuments, but we could not gain ad- 
 mission. 
 
 After dinner we took a stroll in the beautiful park. This 
 is one of the grandest parks in the world. One might well 
 walk in it all day without tiring, so great is the variety of 
 upland and lowland, of shaded dells and sunny glades, of fine 
 old trees and velvet lawns. We sauntered slowly down *' the 
 long walk," looking in vain for the little lake " of Virginia 
 water ; " but, although we walked two or three miles, we 
 saw nothing of it, so we turned our faces homeward. Now 
 while I write the castle bell is ringing the hour of nine, and 
 cheerily and richly sound the merry chimes. 
 
 While the queen resides here, Windsor is a great place 
 of resort, particularly on Sundays. To-day no less than two 
 31 
 
362 LETTERS. 
 
 thousand persons came on the rail-road, — to say nothing of 
 the numbers by other conveyances. 
 
 We now bid farewell to royalty's abode, and to royalty 
 itself; expecting to see nothing more of the state that attends 
 sovereigns, for in our own land, whither w^e are hastening, 
 one is as much a sovereign as another. Were this a fitting 
 time and place, I might enter into a long disquisition on the 
 merits and demerits of a monarchy as opposed to a republic ; 
 but it is neither becoming the day nor the individual ; for 
 you would hardly expect one of the weaker sex to say any 
 thing on such a subject that would prove edifying, so I bid 
 you good night. 
 
 London, Monday evening. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 We are once more in our old room here, and it really 
 seems quite natural, and to date my letter from London too. 
 After all, it seems to me that I have given you but poor and 
 weak descriptions of this great city ; yet I can but hope that 
 the budget of letters sent from this place, may prove interest- 
 ing to you. And now I have but little more to say before 
 we leave London again, and this time perhaps forever. I 
 spent all this morning, after we got back from Windsor, in 
 packing our trunks to send to Liverpool, that we may not be 
 troubled with them in our excursions through this kingdom. 
 We start to-morrow on an eight weeks' tour, with only a 
 carpet bag and small valise. I flatter myself but few ladies 
 can travel with as little baggage as I can. No one, in coach 
 or rail carriages, is allowed but so many pounds of baggage, 
 and for all over the allotted quantity he is charged an extra 
 price ; so you see one saves expense as well as trouble in 
 going with as few encumbrances as possible. 
 
LETTERS. 363 
 
 At four o'clock we walked to Hyde Park. We had pur- 
 posely left this for the last thing to be seen, hoping that the 
 queen might return to town ; and that thus, in this fashion- 
 able place of promenade, we might see some of the great 
 characters, at present figuring on the stage of English affairs. 
 But there is now no probability of her majesty comhig to 
 open parliament, and we can no longer delay our departure 
 from this city. 
 
 No hackney coach is allowed to go within the enclosure 
 of Hyde Park ; no carriages but those belonging to the 
 nobility and the rich people are there seen, so of course, in 
 the fashionable season, and at the usual hours of driving out, 
 it is thronged with the " titled great." I was disappointed 
 in the park ; it is smaller than Regent's, and I think inferior 
 to it. Serpentine river, running through it, however, gives 
 variety to the scene. In one respect it is superior to Regent's 
 Park, for it has a handsome iron railing around it. 
 
 At " Hyde Park Corner," is a beautiful gate in the style 
 of a triumphal arch ; and opposite to this, we pass under 
 another arch, through Queen's Park, to St. James' Palace 
 and Park. This park is very pretty, and has in the centre 
 a little lake, in which there is a small island. The palace 
 is large, fronting three sides of a quadrangle. Around the 
 building is a noble colonnade. In front is an arch, modelled 
 after the arch of Constantine in Rome. 
 
 The streets of London are lit with gas, and are therefore 
 pleasant to walk in during any time of evening or night. 
 We have often seen respectable looking females walking 
 alone at late hours ; and so excellent are the police arrange- 
 ments, that I should not be afraid to walk out by myself any 
 time during the evening. 
 
 This morning we had the pleasure of seeing our friend 
 and former fellow-traveller, Mr. T. He is on his way home. 
 And thus has ended our last day in London. We have 
 enjoyed exceedingly our visit here ; and among all our recol- 
 lections of the past, numerous and varied as they are, few 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 will be more pleasant than those connected with our two 
 weeks' sojourn in this vast metropolis. And so I bid you 
 good bye. 
 
 Cheltenham, Thursday evening. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 We go so rapidly from place to place, that I shall now not 
 be able to write to you oftener than twice a week, so you 
 may expect long letters each time. In fact, I begin to think 
 that I have no faculty to condense my descriptions, so as to 
 bring them within a small compass. However, if the letters 
 do but please and amuse you, it matters not to me, whether 
 they are long or short. And now to review the past. We 
 came to Bristol Tuesday by '' the Great Western rail-road," 
 which has only been completed about six weeks. We have 
 heard so much in our own country about the superiority of 
 the English roads to ours, that I have been led to take par- 
 ticular notice of them. On the road from London to Bristol, 
 there are two tracks, each seven feet wide ; and either from 
 nature or design the road is not so varying as those at home, 
 that is, now on high banks, and now in deep valleys. I saw 
 but one or two places where we were much above the level 
 of the country. 
 
 The master-piece of workmanship on this road is a tunnel 
 two miles long, cut through a high hill. Within the deepest 
 recesses, it is as dark as the blackest midnight ; and the 
 noise produced by the rumbling of the cars and the engine 
 is quite fearful. We were obliged to stop ten minutes before 
 entering it, as a train had just passed through ; and the rule 
 is to wait that length of time, for fear of accidents. There 
 are several other tunnels, but none except this exceeding a 
 quarter of a mile in length. Some are cut through the solid 
 rock. 
 
LETTERS. 365 
 
 At all the "stations" there are good, substantial stone 
 houses, but no one is allowed to get out at any one of them, 
 unless it be his own stopping place, and no one can enter, 
 till those who are to stop have previously got out. When 
 about half way, " the rail " stopped ten minutes, and we were 
 allowed to get out for refreshments ; but each one had a 
 little ticket given him, which he was obliged to show at the 
 door, and to give up as he came back. Now you see every 
 thing is conducted in the most orderly and quiet manner ; 
 but this would not suit you in the United States. Your 
 republican spirit would not submit to be trammelled by so 
 many rules and regulations. Of course so many rules 
 require a good many men to enforce them ; hence the ex- 
 penses of these roads are greater than ours at home, and of 
 course the fare is much higher. And now for the speed. 
 We were four hours and three quarters in going one hundred 
 and twenty miles ; but we stopped at least twenty times, so 
 that we went about thirty miles an hour. Of course at this 
 rate of travelling, you cannot expect me to say much about 
 the country through which we passed, or rather flew like 
 birds of passage. We occasionally caught glimpses of pretty 
 villages, and scenes of rural beauty ; but before we could 
 well realize in what their beauty consisted, we were far from 
 them. We saw Reading, a good looking town, having some 
 romantic ruins near by. 
 
 At Bristol we staid two nights. It is not a very interest- 
 ing city, though quite a busy one. The streets were almost 
 impassable from the mud, and two or three times we saw- 
 men actually hoeing it from the sidewalks. 
 
 Bristol lies on the Avon, ten miles from the Severn. A 
 number of vessels were on the river, and the wharves bore 
 the appearance of bustle and activity. Many of the streets 
 are narrow, and the houses irregular, and but few of them 
 handsome. 
 
 On College Green stands the old cathedral, a fine speci- 
 men of Gothic style ; and near it are the ruins of the arch- 
 31* 
 
366 LETTERS. 
 
 bishop's palace, torn down by a mob in 1830, I think. 
 There are some other quaint looking churches, and some 
 handsome modern ones. Many shops are nice looking, and 
 their windows manifest a good deal of taste in the way of 
 displaying goods to the best advantage. 
 
 I should say the handsomest edifice in all Bristol is the 
 "station" house. It is really magnificent, being built of 
 light stone in the castellated Gothic style. Wednesday 
 morning we went to Bath. Though but eighteen miles from 
 Bristol, we passed through seven or eight tunnels, some a 
 half mile long. The country between Bath and Bristol is 
 hilly, and abounds with landscapes of much beauty. We 
 passed by several villages, in which were large manufac- 
 tories, at least so we judged from the thick clouds of 
 smoke that rose from the chimnies and darkened the air. 
 
 Bath is a large city, and a very pretty one too. Some of 
 the streets to be sure are narrow and dirty, and have com- 
 mon looking houses ; but others are wide and clean, and 
 have rows of handsome houses of light colored stone. There 
 are several squares and parks which greatly add to the beauty 
 of the place. We visited the old cathedral ; but I have de- 
 scribed so many churches, that 1 shall say nothing of this, 
 nor of the handsome modern churches with which Bath is 
 adorned. 
 
 We passed by a hospital, supported by voluntary contribu- 
 tions, and designed to accommodate the poor, whose com- 
 plaints require the healing of the waters. The ''pump- 
 room," where people go to drink the water, is in a large 
 building of dark stone, having a handsome portico and 
 colonnade in front. The room is large, and is tastefully 
 fitted up, having several pieces of sculpture ; among which 
 is the statue of Beau Nash, once the master of ceremonies 
 at Bath. At either end of the room, there is a music gallery, 
 where a band performs every day during the fashionable 
 season. The water is pumped up into a large marble vase, 
 and dealt out by a gentlemanly attendant for a few pennies a 
 
LETTERS. 367 
 
 glass. We drank some of it ; it is of a greenish Ime, quite 
 warm, and to the taste seems but slightly impregnated with 
 mineral properties. 
 
 Back of the " pump-room " is a large reservoir, filled with 
 the water to the depth of four and a half feet. It is regularly 
 cleared out three times a week. Around this reservoir are 
 small basins for public bathing, and little rooms for private 
 use. Every thing about the establishment is in the nicest 
 order. Adjoining each bath is a room, in which are a sofa- 
 bed, chairs, and table. We took a bath, and pronounced it 
 quite a luxury. The temperature of the water is about 115.° 
 While I was trying the bath, I gave my shoes, stockings, and 
 dress into the hands of an old woman, who had the care of 
 the apartments appropriated for ladies' use, and she succeeded 
 in ridding them of the thick coat of mud in which they were 
 enveloped. 
 
 After we returned to our hotel in Bristol, we ordered din- 
 ner at eight o'clock, and then started for Clifton, two miles 
 distant. We expected to meet a " bus," and so get a chance 
 to ride ; but none coming along, we walked the whole dis- 
 tance. We followed the course of the Avon till the banks 
 grew higher and higher, and the view of the country around 
 was entirely impeded. So then we mounted a steep hill, and 
 found ourselves in the very centre of the town. 
 
 The Avon is a little dirty looking river, at least so it 
 seemed to us then, perhaps on account of the tide being 
 low. High banks enclose it, which serve to give it, what 
 novel-readers call a romantic appearance. On one side they 
 are wooded, and on the other bare and rocky. A magnificent 
 suspension bridge is being built over the river. 
 
 Clifton is a pretty little town, the houses are so regular 
 and handsome. They stand back from the river, so that the 
 view of the water is entirely hidden from those in the streets. 
 We saw little carriages here, and at Bath too, like those in 
 Brighton. Clifton is another fashionable watering-place, on 
 account of its hot springs, called here " hot wells." We 
 
368 LETTERS. 
 
 did not go into the pump-room. Finding that we had plenty 
 of time before dinner, we sauntered slowly back. There 
 have been some fine specimens of petrifactions found in this 
 neighborhood, and along the banks of the river, we passed 
 by several stands, on which many of them were exhibited 
 for sale. 
 
 This morning we went quite early to the station to go to 
 Wrington, near Barley Wood, the former residence of Han- 
 nah More. The ticket office was not opened till a few 
 minutes before the time of starting ; and when we applied 
 for our tickets, we found that we had come to the wrong 
 station. We hurried off as fast as possible to the right one ; 
 but arrived just in season to hear the admonitory whistle, 
 and to see the train moving off. As the next " rail " did not 
 go till eleven, we were forced to give up our projected ex- 
 cursion thither ; so slowly and sadly we returned to our 
 hotel, and thinking we had seen quite enough of Bristol, we 
 packed up our few things, and started off in the coach for 
 Gloucester. 
 
 Just as we left the city the bells of the churches struck 
 up a merry peal, chiming a real tune, and a very rich one 
 too. Two or three times they were struck in quick succes- 
 sion to imitate the firing of cannon. We inquired and 
 found the cause of the rejoicing was, that it was Prince 
 Albert's birthday. 
 
 The ride to Gloucester was delightful, the country beau- 
 tiful, and the air delicious. To get from the smoke and fog 
 of Bristol, and to breathe the fresh air of a clear, sunny day 
 was exhilarating. To be mounted on a coach, going rapid- 
 ly, it is true, but still slowly enough to enable one to see the 
 country, was quite a pleasant contrast to being shut up in a 
 car, and skimming over the road like a bird. 
 
 How smiling all nature was to-day ! The meadows were 
 of a luxuriant green, or a rich yellow. We see no Indian 
 corn here, which at first seemed strange to us, so much of 
 it do we have in our own land. Wheat is called corn here : 
 
LETTERS. 369 
 
 two or three times, when riding, I have suddenly turned my 
 head at hearing some of the passengers talk of a large field 
 of corn, thinking that I was indeed going to see corn ; but 
 I have now become accustomed to the term, and so think 
 nothing of it. 
 
 In our ride we caught glimpses of the Severn, as it rolled 
 its waters along within a few miles of us. About ten miles 
 from Bristol we passed a man who was walking for a wager. 
 He was clothed in light colored buckskin, and was walking 
 backwards when we saw him. His face was much flushed, 
 and his whole appearance showed that he was exerting him- 
 self to the utmost. He had engaged to walk fifty miles 
 a day for six days in succession, twenty-five miles for- 
 ward and twenty-five backward, and for this praiseworthy 
 achievement he is to have fifty pounds. This is the fourth 
 day of his trial. He accomplished one mile in eleven 
 minutes when walking forward, and one in seventeen when 
 backward. It seems to me, notwithstanding the proverbial 
 gravity and sobriety of the English, compared with the vi- 
 vacity and pleasure-seeking disposition of the French, that, 
 after all, they are as eager for amusements and novelties as 
 their neighbors across the channel. In every town through 
 which we have passed, there either have been, or are soon 
 to be, horse races or boat races, or cricket matches, or ball 
 playing, or something or other, it does not seem to matter 
 what. 
 
 At Gloucester we stopped two hours, and spent the most 
 of that time in visiting the cathedral. It is a majestic pile, 
 partaking largely both of the old Saxon and Gothic styles. 
 The tower is beautiful ; little turrets of delicate fretwork ris- 
 ing up at each corner, seeming far too fragile for such an ele- 
 vation. The nave is in the Saxon style, with round arches and 
 immense pillars; the ceiling is vaulted though plain, but the 
 choir is perfectly Gothic. It has a splendid window, the 
 highest, if not the largest in England. Behind the choir is 
 a beautiful chapel, erected by Henry VII. The ceiling is 
 exquisitely done. At the upper end of the chapel is a large 
 
370 LETTEES. 
 
 Gothic window, beneath which was formerly an altar. It was 
 pulled down and the walls defaced in the time of Crom- 
 well, and the marks of the ravages are yet visible. 
 
 The cathedral is rich in monuments and inscriptions. 
 The first that I noticed was a monument of one of the Cun- 
 ningham family (I think it was). Under the coat of arms 
 was written, " over, fork over." I eagerly asked what that 
 meant. Our guide around the church, an intelligent and 
 modest old man, soon explained it to us. When Charles the 
 Pretender was pursued in Scotland, he at one time fled 
 to a meadow where he was concealed in a load of hay by 
 this very man, who from that time took for his motto, 
 *' over, fork over." 
 
 There is a beautiful monument in the Gothic style erect- 
 ed to the memory of Richard Raikes, brother to Robert, 
 who by the way was a native of this town, as was also the 
 celebrated Whitefield. Here too is the tomb of Robert of 
 Normandy, son of William the Conqueror. As he was a 
 crusader, his statue on top of his tomb represents him with 
 his legs crossed, which, with his singular dress, makes a 
 queer looking figure. 
 
 We saw too the tomb of a man who had had twenty-one 
 children, and of another who was father to nine sons and six 
 daughters. In front, the father is painted, with his children 
 kneeling around him, his sons arranged in dutiful order on 
 one side, and his daughters on the other, the last in the 
 oddest looking costume imaginable. On top were the ap- 
 propriate words, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." Poor 
 man ! he had a house full of vanities, and not all female 
 vanities either ! 
 
 There is also a monument in honor of (I have forgot- 
 ten the name) of Massachusetts, an American consul who 
 died here. 
 
 Workmen were engaged in fixing up staging around the 
 church, preparatory to the great musical festival which takes 
 place here once in three years. This prevented us from 
 seeing the church to good advantage. 
 
LETTERS. 371 
 
 However good a taste it is in religion to convert a Romish 
 into a Protestant church, it is a poor one in architecture, 
 for the impressive effect is totally lost by a high screen beino- 
 between the nave and choir. It is thus deprived of its perfect 
 proportions, so that it seems much shorter than it really is. 
 
 Adjoining the church are extensive cloisters, running 
 around a quadrangle, into which they open by small Gothic 
 windows in beautiful little arches. 
 
 We passed by two ancient looking churches, one had a 
 high tower which leaned a little, whether from design or old 
 age we know not. 
 
 We left Gloucester at seven, and came here by " rail." 
 The country was fine, and the sunset beautiful, presenting a 
 scene almost as beauteous as any in Italy's fair clime. 
 
 We are at '' The Plough." The streets through which 
 we walked this evening were well lit, and the shops pre- 
 sented a very handsome appearance. In my novel reading 
 days I heard much of this fashionable watering-place, though 
 I then hardly imagined I should ever visit it, but strange 
 things come to pass now-a-days. 
 
 Friday morning. 
 
 I open this, while waiting for breakfast, to finish my ac- 
 count of this city. We rose quite early this morning, and 
 walked for an hour and a half, delighted with all we saw. 
 This is a beautiful town. The houses are regular and hand- 
 some, not abounding in architectural ornaments, but plain, 
 neat and chaste. Most of them stand a little back from the 
 street, having small gardens in front. Nearly all have little 
 verandahs or balconies, and some have quite pretty porti- 
 coes. There are some beautiful public gardens too, and 
 streets lined with trees, forming fashionable promenades. 
 In short, the whole town is beautiful. I never saw one that 
 would equal it, either on the continent or in our own 
 country. 
 
 But it is time for me to be moving, so in haste I leave 
 you. 
 
372 LETTERS. 
 
 BiRMiN'GHAM, Saturday evening. 
 
 My DEAR Friend : 
 
 Once more I have a little time, which I gladly devote to 
 you, so I hasten to tell you about the things which we have 
 seen. After closing my letter yesterday morning, we started 
 off by coach for Stratford. The country was charming, but 
 so much like what I have previously described, that it is un- 
 necessary for me to enter into particulars. The environs 
 of Cheltenham were beautiful ; houses surrounded by gar- 
 dens and parks lined the road. I think the houses of the 
 higher class of people in England excel in beauty and finish 
 those of the same class with us, or even on the continent, 
 and the grounds around them are perfect. But the houses 
 of the middle and lower classes in our country are far su- 
 perior to those of the same classes here. I see nowhere such 
 neat, thrifty and pretty farm-houses as I do at home. In the 
 most of the villages through which we have passed, the 
 houses have been the most ordinary looking affairs, gener- 
 ally of brick or stone, and without any external beauty or 
 perfections ; of course I can't tell how they look inside. 
 
 As I just now said, I can say nothing more about the 
 country from Cheltenham to Stratford, than that it was 
 charming in the highest degree. Husbandmen were busy 
 in the fields, and the gleaners were not idle, but were 
 gathering up the fragments, that nothing should be wasted. 
 
 We passed through Evesham, a small town, near which a 
 famous battle was fought in 1265, between Prince Edward 
 I. and the Earl of Leicester. We also passed through 
 several villages, and through toll-gates innumerable. I can- 
 not speak too highly of the roads in England. I feel per- 
 fectly safe on top of a coach, for we never meet with those 
 jolts and jars to throw us off our seats as at home. And 
 nothing can exceed the carefulness of the coachmen ; they 
 put the drag on every time they go down a little hill, and 
 
LETTERS. 373 
 
 never leave their horses without asking some one on top to 
 " please to take the ribands." 
 
 Stratford is a small town on the river Avon. It cannot 
 boast of much beauty, but all its interest is derived from 
 having been the birthplace of Shakespeare. We went im- 
 mediately to see the house where he was born. It is in one 
 of the principal streets, and is a homely, plain, old-fashioned 
 house. A sign over the door informs the passer-by that 
 " the immortal Shakespeare was born in this house." We 
 entered with no common feelings, and as we went up the 
 dark, narrow staircase, so still was every thing, it seemed 
 that we were going to a funeral. The room where the bard 
 was born, is in the second story, and is low and plain. In 
 the room were some high-backed chairs, and an old cabinet, 
 though the woman who did the honors of the house candidly 
 said that they could not be identified with the time of 
 Shakespeare. Around the walls hung several old portraits 
 of his family, and a good likeness of the poet himself The 
 walls, window-seats, every part of the room, even to the 
 rafters, were covered with the names of those who had at 
 diiferent times visited the spot, among which we saw quite 
 as many Americans as Englishmen. Of course, Jonathan- 
 like, we added our own. Some person wrote on a piece of 
 paper and left it here : — 
 
 " Stranger, tread not these hallowed rooms with scorn, 
 Within this room great Shakespeare was born ; 
 With reverence due bow to his sacred worth, 
 Great nature wrought a wonder when she gave him birth." 
 
 Underneath which was written in another hand, 
 
 " Poor fool ! we could not contemplate with scorn, 
 A worm that crawls where Avon's bard was born ; 
 In Stratford, (even in these degenerate times,) 
 All is respectable — except thy rhymes." 
 
 Among the Americans whose names have been recorded 
 in a book kept in the house, are Washington Irving, N. P. 
 32 
 
374 LETTERS. 
 
 Willis, Daniel Webster, and two sons of President Van 
 Buren. Irving wrote, 
 
 " Of mighty Shakespeare's birth the room we see, 
 That where he died, in vain to find we try ; 
 Useless the search, for all immortal he, 
 And those who are immortal, never die." 
 
 I could not but think as 1 sat in that humble room, and as 
 I walked the streets of Stratford, how little Shakespeare im- 
 agined that the time would ever come when travellers from 
 a far distant land should visit the place where he was born, 
 and regard it as one of the greatest objects of interest in 
 England. 
 
 We then went to the church where the poet lies buried. 
 It is approached from the road by an avenue of lime trees, 
 the branches meeting overhead and forming a beautiful 
 arbor. Shakespeare's monument consists of a white marble 
 slab, placed against the wall, and surmounted by his bust. 
 The inscription reads thus : — 
 
 " Stay, passenger ! why goest thou by so fast ? 
 Read, if thou canst, whome envious death hath plast. 
 Within this monument, Shakespeare with whome 
 Q,uick nature dide, whose name doth deck y tomb 
 Far more than cost ; Sith all y hath writt, 
 Leaves living art but page to serve his witt. 
 
 Obiit Akno DomisIj 1616. ^Etatus 53." 
 
 On the floor beneath this monument, is a small slab of 
 marble bearing the inscription, " Here lies interred the 
 body of Anne Hathaway, wife of William Shakespeare, who 
 departed this life the 6th of August, 1625, being the age of 
 67 years." Then follows a string of Latin words, which I had 
 neither time nor patience nor ability to translate. By her 
 side repose a son and daughter. 
 
 Surely here rest those whose names are to memory dear. 
 Back of the church flows the Avon, here a pretty stream. 
 From the opposite bank stretch fields, where the cattle and 
 the sheep browsed quietly on the green herbage. All was 
 
LETTERS. 375 
 
 quiet and lovely, and most fitting is it that Avon's waters 
 should flow by the spot where Avon's bard reposes. 
 
 Just back of the inn where we stopped, was a bowling 
 green, the site of the house where Shakespeare lived after 
 his return from London. It was called '* Hill Place," 
 and was afterwards bought by a clergyman, who took the 
 liberty of pulling down the house, which so exasperated the 
 Stratfordites, that he was obliged to leave the town. In the 
 centre of the green was a large mulberry tree, in its infancy 
 a shoot from one planted by the dramatist's own hand. 
 
 From Stratford we went to Leamington, a distance often 
 miles. We enjoyed the ride very much, going as we did 
 at that pleasant time when the sun was sinking to rest. We 
 improved the twilight hour in looking about the little town. 
 It is on the Leam, a small but pretty stream, fringed with 
 overhanging trees and shrubs. Bath street is the finest 
 street in the town ; indeed I know of no street in the cities 
 we have visited, which in the chasteness and elegance of the 
 houses will compare with it. The " Pump room " is really 
 beautiful, being adorned with a handsome portico, and 
 Regent's Hotel is a magnificent building, so neat and so 
 perfect in its proportions. As at Cheltenham, there were 
 numbers of pretty little gardens. 
 
 And now I come to the records of this day, one of the 
 busiest of the many busy ones we have lately known. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast we took the coach for Kenil- 
 worth. Though eight o'clock, one would have judged from 
 the appearance of things that it was much earlier, for the 
 shops were closed, and the curtains of the houses still 
 drawn, as though the inmates were buried in sleep. The 
 principal persons stirring in the streets were nursery maids 
 having little children in their arms, and by their side, taking 
 them out to breathe the morning air. This is a feature of 
 nursery discipline that I much like. Go out when you will, 
 yon constantly meet babies and children. They seem to 
 live out of doors. How different from what it is at home, 
 
376 LETTERS. 
 
 where young children are not allowed to breathe the fresh 
 air. The day we were at Windsor, I saw a servant in the 
 park with three children, the youngest of which was but 
 nine months old, and they were there at least three hours, and 
 that too towards the close of the day, when it was quite chilly 
 and damp. What would our anxious mothers say to such 
 things? Children in England are dressed with much taste. 
 Their dresses are very short, and their little legs are bare 
 almost to the ankle. At first it looked queerly to us, but 
 now I like the fashion. 
 
 After looking awhile at the children, we began to stare at 
 the signs over the doors, a common occupation, by the way, 
 with people from the country, and we were highly amused 
 at the manner in which they were worded, so different from 
 what we see at home. Let me give you an instance. Over 
 a chemist's shop kept by a Mr. Baker, the sign reads thus : 
 " Chemist, Baker, Druggist," thus having the calling or 
 profession at either end, and the name in the middle. 
 
 In all the towns through which we pass we see something 
 *' to the Q,ueen." Good lady ! she seems well provided for. 
 I have seen her hatter, saddler, engraver, gunmaker, shoe- 
 maker, fruiterer, rusk-maker, confectioner, embroiderer, 
 chemists, and I can't tell what else. 
 
 But to the coach. The distance to Kenilworth was five 
 miles, and at that early hour of the morning we found the 
 air quite chilly, like one of our sharp mornings in October, 
 so that we were glad to dismount from the coach at the 
 village of Kenilworth, and walk to the castle almost a mile 
 beyond. Our walk led us through a green lane, bordered 
 by the hawthorn growing in luxuriant wildness, and trees 
 and bushes apparently untouched by the hand of man. As 
 we wound around the hill we caught glimpses of the grey 
 old castle, which made us quicken our steps, so that soon 
 we stood within the shade of its ruins. And how majestic, 
 how age-worn those ruins are ! I don't know how I got the 
 impression, but I thought there was a suit of rooms still re- 
 
LETTERS. 377 
 
 raainiiig, therefore to my surprise I found the whole edifice 
 a mass of ruins, nothing but the walls standing. 
 
 To our great joy we were not troubled with a cicerone, 
 but were left to wander about at our own pleasure, and for 
 two hours we rambled and scrambled around, now climbing 
 to the top of some old tower, and then seating ourselves on 
 large pieces of stone and gazing on the fair landscape before 
 us. 
 
 There are at present four distinct and detached buildings, 
 though they were formerly connected together, so as to form 
 one grand whole, but never could Kenilworth, even in the 
 days of her glory, when proud Leicester here held his court, 
 and entertained in a sumptuous manner the maiden queen, 
 when beauty and grace were here assembled, and the walls 
 re-echoed the sound of music and mirth, never could the 
 noble pile seem half so interesting to me, as it did to-day 
 when I stood beside its venerable remains. The walls are 
 covered with the mantling ivy, which seems to cling the 
 closer, as all else forsakes them. As we wandered around, 
 we heard naught but the echo of our own footsteps, and the 
 sound of our own voices, excepting when we frightened the 
 rooks from their resting places. How solemnly still seemed 
 those time-honored ruins ! I looked upon them as I would 
 upon an old, revered friend, whom I saw daily wasting away 
 before me. 
 
 We could make out none of the particular rooms, though 
 we knew which was the great hall from the large Gothic 
 window ; but no floor, nor ceiling now remains to this 
 room. The grounds were formerly in much better order 
 than at present. A beautiful lake once lay before the castle; 
 now it is no more to be seen, having been drained by that 
 destroyer of all things beautiful, Oliver Cromwell, who had 
 no taste for any thing, save his own affected. Puritanic 
 plainness. 
 
 In one of the towers, now fitted up as a dwelling-house for 
 the keeper of the castle, we saw the fire-place which once 
 32* 
 
378 LETTERS. 
 
 Stood in " Leicester Building." It is of marble, richly sculp- 
 tured, encased in a frame of oak also carved. The room 
 was wainscoted with oak, taken from some room in the 
 castle. 
 
 On our return to the village, we found to our dismay that 
 no coach came along till one o'clock. Now we could not 
 wait till that hour, without disarranging all our plans for the 
 day. We tried to hire a horse and carriage at the inn ; it 
 was in vain, they were not "licensed to let horses." There 
 remained no alternative but to walk; so, notwithstanding 
 our previous ramble, we started on quite cheerily, and 
 actually walked the five miles without stopping, except to get 
 a glass of lemonade. Am I not growing smart, or, as the 
 English would say, "clever"? It was quite warm; but 
 the road was shady, so we found the walk very pleasant. 
 We passed by several seats ; one belonging to Lord Leigh, 
 having one hundred acres of woodland. Besides this, he 
 owns four other large estates. 
 
 After taking lunch at Leamington, we went to Warwick, 
 two miles farther, where we stopped two or three hours. 
 Here we had another rich treat, in visiting Warwick Castle, 
 which ranks in size next to that at Windsor. It is sur- 
 rounded by a thick wall, and the gate at the entrance is of 
 immense strength. From the gateway we went to the castle 
 through a winding passage, cut out of the solid rock, and 
 overgrown with moss and ivy. We entered a large hall 
 paved with red and white marble, arranged in diamond form. 
 The walls are of oak, and the ceiling is painted to imitate the 
 same kind of wood. Around the walls hang many pieces of 
 armor, helmets, shields, bucklers, spears, and coats of mail. 
 The frames of the chairs, sofas, and tables, are of oak, 
 beautifully carved. The walls of this hall are ten feet 
 thick. 
 
 The drawing-room is wainscoted with cedar. The chairs 
 are covered with figured velvet, which our garrulous guide 
 told us cost five hundred pounds. Then came the gilt-room; 
 
LETTERS. 379 
 
 the walls of which are paneled in gilt, and the ceiling carved 
 and gilded. Here are some beautiful cabinets of turtle-shell, 
 inlaid with brass, and a mosaic table, composed of large 
 pieces of lapis lazuli, amethyst, topaz, and other precious 
 stones. 
 
 In the next room was dueen Anne's state-bed, presented 
 by George III. It is covered with white damask, wrought 
 with colored silks, and has curtains of crimson velvet em- 
 broidered with gold. The walls are hung with tapestry 
 representing the royal garden at Versailles, and is a curious 
 piece of workmanship. It is two hundred and thirty-seven 
 years old. 
 
 Lady Warwick's boudoir is quite plain looking, the walls 
 being lined with drab velvet, and the chairs covered with 
 satin of the same color. 
 
 We then went into a little room called the " compass- 
 room," cut out of the thickness of the wall of the castle. 
 Here were a beautifully painted window, and two vases of 
 Derbyshire spar, and one of cut crystal, which were made at 
 Birmingham. 
 
 From this we went into the chapel, a neat, plain room ; 
 then through a narrow hall to the dining-room, having the 
 ceiling and walls gilded, and so came to the breakfast-room, 
 a snug, comfortable apartment. In all these rooms, there 
 are fine paintings, mostly portraits ; but we were so hurried 
 along, that we could give but little attention to them. 
 
 We rambled for some time around the park. It is seven 
 miles in extent, and is adorned by a little river, which in one 
 part is made to fall over a dam, producing quite a cascade. 
 In the park are some noble cedars ; one over three hundred 
 years old, and measuring twenty-seven feet round. In the 
 garden, which bears the marks of sad neglect, is a conserva- 
 tory, in which is the celebrated Warwick vase, (or vass as it 
 is pronounced here,) the history of which I do not know, 
 except that it was found in Adrian's villa near Rome. It is 
 a magnificent affair, of white marble, sculptured in alto- 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 relievo. It is seven feet across at the top, and will hold one 
 hundred and sixty-three gallons. 
 
 In the porter's lodge is the armor once worn by Guy, 
 Earl of Warwick. He seems to have been an extraordinary 
 sort of a personage. His shield, helmet, sword, and spear, 
 weigh one hundred and seventy pounds ; and the spear is 
 nine feet ten inches long, he having stood in his shoes eight 
 feet eleven inches. There is a wonderful story about his 
 having killed a " dun cow," a rib of which is here seen, 
 which looks as though it belonged to an elephant. In the 
 centre of the room is a great iron pot, called " Sir Guy's 
 porridge pot." It is now used as a punch bowl ; and at 
 Lord Warwick's coming of age, it was filled full three times 
 with punch, which was given out to the common people. It 
 requires eighteen gallons of rum, eighteen of water, and one 
 hundred pounds of sugar to fill it. And thus ended our 
 visit to Warwick Castle. 
 
 We walked around in the village, waiting for the Birming- 
 ham coach to come along. We stopped and admired the 
 outside of the old church, and passed under a noble Gothic 
 gateway. The streets were filled with stalls covered with 
 fruit, vegetables, and meat in abundance, to-day being mar- 
 ket day. Large spaces were covered with crockery ware ; 
 and we passed by numerous coops filled with hens and 
 chickens, and pens full of pigs, both large and small. 
 
 About five o'clock the coach came along, and we were 
 once more elevated to our favorite seats. It so soon grew 
 grew dark, we could see but little of the country. We 
 passed two gipsey carts, the occupants of which were busily 
 engaged in various occupations. One w^oman was cooking 
 over a fire made on the ground, another was ironing on the 
 grass, children were scattered about, two donkeys were 
 quietly grazing at a little distance, the bushes were covered 
 with clothes, and altogether it was quite a picturesque 
 scene. 
 
 As we neared this place, we were struck by the change 
 
LETTERS. 381 
 
 in the air ; it was thick with a mixture of smoke and fog, 
 intolerable both to the eyes and the nose. 
 
 We stopped at the ''King's Head," and after taking a 
 light supper walked out. At any other time, I should not 
 have thought that I could have gone out after so fatiguing a 
 day, but I was anxious to witness the bustle of a large 
 manufacturing town on Saturday evening. We were warned 
 at the inn to leave our watches and purses at home, as it is 
 not always safe in the evening to have such articles about. 
 We found the streets full ; the shops displaying their choicest 
 and cheapest goods, and the sidewalks thronged with both 
 buyers and sellers. We went into the market-house, a large, 
 handsome building, well lighted with gas. The stands were 
 arranged in rows through the room. Here were displayed, 
 not only all kinds of provisions, but all sorts of necessaries ; 
 hats, clothes, and shoes, both new and old; baskets, crockery, 
 toys, cutlery, in short any thing and every thing. Salesmen 
 were exerting their utmost eloquence to induce their cus- 
 tomers to make large purchases. Everybody bought some- 
 thing ; the men and boys had on long aprons, well filled with 
 provisions for the coming week. They looked pale and 
 sallow, and were far from being clean and tidy. The women 
 all had care-worn faces. 
 
 We then walked up and down the principal street. This 
 was thronged with boys and girls selling matches, toys, 
 pocket-books, pencils, fruit, &.c. Here too were beggars 
 and blind people asking alms. One blind couple were led 
 by a dog, the woman carrying a lantern, not to help them, 
 but to aid the vision of other people, who otherwise might pass 
 them by without notice. The man sung in a dolorous tone, 
 something doubtless quite pathetic ; but I only could catch 
 the words, " Neither of us cannot see." Then came a whole 
 family of beggars; the father telling his pitiful story, and the 
 wife and children responding in a sing-song tone at proper 
 intervals. Soon we were attracted by a crowd, in the midst 
 of which was a man wearing a white apron, who was com- 
 
382 LETTERS. 
 
 plaining in a loud tone of the small wages paid to those that 
 worked in the manufacturies. 
 
 While we stood listening to him, another man wearing an 
 apron came along He told us that the speaker had been at 
 work in a cotton factory, but that he had lately been thrown 
 out of employment, and that there were hundreds of work- 
 people around, actually suffering on account of the lowness 
 of wages, and the high prices of provisions. Well, I told 
 him that when the nobility would give up some of their wealth 
 to ameliorate the condition of the poor, and the thousands of 
 pounds now spent on needless show and luxuries be turned 
 into other channels, I would then listen with sympathy to 
 the cries of hard times. 
 
 But I have quite tired myself out in writing this long 
 letter after so exciting a day. Exhausted nature calls loudly 
 for her " sweet restorer," and I most gladly obey the call. 
 Again good night. 
 
 Liverpool, Wednesday morning. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 Quite contrary to my usual custom, I am writing in the 
 morning. J. is at the banker's waiting for our letters, the 
 steamer having just arrived. Does it not seem that we are 
 almost at home now we are here ? yet it must be several 
 weeks longer before we even begin to think of leaving the 
 old country, so much is there yet to be seen. We shall stay 
 as long as the weather continues comfortable. 
 
 I closed my last letter at Birmingham, on Saturday even- 
 ing. We did not leave till Monday afternoon ; but I had no 
 time to write any more, though I did not send my letter off 
 till I got here. On Sunday we attended the chapel where 
 John Angell James preaches. It is built of brick, but has a 
 handsome stone portico. The interior is quite plain, though 
 
LETTERS. 383 
 
 behind the pulpit there is a row of noble pillars. Over the 
 pulpit is a gallery, which was filled with charity children, 
 dressed in uniform ; the girls wearing the most old womanish 
 caps I ever saw. In every church where we have been, there 
 has been a gallery filled with charity children. 
 
 Mr. James was not in town, so we were disappointed in 
 not hearing him, though we heard a very good sermon by 
 a Mr. Ford. 
 
 I found the air so close and oppressive, that I was obliged 
 to keep perfectly quiet the rest of the day. On Monday we 
 spent three or four hours in looking around the town, and 
 we were really quite happily disappointed in it. I had an 
 idea the streets were narrow and dirty, and the houses dark 
 and high ; on the contrary, we found the streets quite wide 
 and very clean, and the houses but of moderate height ; and 
 being built of red brick, they have a lighter and less sombre 
 appearance than those built of stone. The churches are 
 fine looking buildings ; " the College," a free grammar- 
 school, is a handsome edifice, in the Gothic style, of light 
 colored stone ; and the Town Hall is really quite magnifi- 
 cent, being built in the form of a Roman temple, and sur- 
 rounded by an elegant portico. Just below the market is a 
 statue of Lord Nelson, done by Westmacott. 
 
 In another respect we were happily disappointed ; for we 
 found the air much clearer and purer than we anticipated, 
 owing I suppose to its being Monday, the smoke having had 
 an opportunity the day before to take itself off. 
 
 We visited " Coil's collection of plated, silver, and japan 
 articles." In the show-rooms we saw every thing handsome, 
 appertaining to such an establishment ; candlesticks, cande- 
 labras, lamps, tables inlaid with silver and pearl, dressing 
 boxes, some prized at fifty guineas, beautiful screens and 
 baskets, razors, scissors, pencils, gold chains, and ornaments 
 of all kinds ; casts, medals, and a fac-simile in bronze of 
 the great " Warwick vass," made at this establishment, and 
 employing the sculptor eight years. 
 
384 LETTERS. 
 
 In the work-rooms there were but few men, the overseer 
 telling us that the hands always would keep '' blue Monday." 
 We saw many different things going on there ; but I cannot 
 enter into farther details. 
 
 We were nearly six hours in coming from Birmingham by 
 railway here, a distance of ninety-six miles. We came very 
 slowly, or rather we stopped so often, and so long at each 
 place, that it was exceedingly tedious. Besides the carriages 
 were uncomfortable ; they were narrower and much more 
 shut up than those on the Great Western road, and the air 
 was very close. Altogether it was the most unpleasant ride 
 I ever took, always excepting our joiyney from Avignon to 
 Marseilles. • The track on this road is but four feet and a 
 half wide; so I suppose the engine could not run so quick 
 as on a wider track, at least not with the same degree of 
 safety. 
 
 The country through which we passed was thickly dotted 
 with towns and villages, manufacturing places apparently 
 from the high chimneys every where sending up their dense 
 columns of smoke, darkening and polluting the air. Oh ! 
 I would not live in the manufacturing district of England 
 for any sum of money ; the smell of coal-smoke is to me in- 
 tolerable. 
 
 As we entered this place, we passed through a tunnel a 
 mile and a half long, running under a part of the town. We 
 came to the Wellington Hotel. 
 
 Yesterday we walked around the town viewing the won- 
 ders ; and yet perhaps when I tell you what we saw, you 
 will say there were not many " wonders." Some of the 
 streets are quite handsome, others are directly the opposite. 
 Many of the houses are of brick, the remainder are of stone ; 
 for you never see a wooden house in this country. The 
 Town Hall is a handsome building, adorned with Corinthian 
 pillars, and surmounted by a dome, on top of which is a 
 statue, representing Britannia. Back of this are the new 
 Exchange Buildings, forming three sides of a square. They 
 
LETTERS. 885 
 
 are of dark stone, and have a fine colonnade running around 
 them. In the centre of the square is a bronze statue of 
 Lord Nelson. Victory stands behind him, holding in her 
 hand a wreath of laurel ; and Death is near him, looking 
 out from a shroud, and having one bony hand laid upon him. 
 Around are emblems of the navy, sails, anchors, and cables 
 On the pedestal are seated in attitudes of grief several 
 figures with chains around them. 
 
 The square had a busy look ; merchants were walking 
 about discoursing of matters and things in relation to their 
 several callings. Laborers were there too, waiting to be 
 hired. In one of the buildings is an immense reading-room, 
 occupying the whole of one side of the square. 
 
 The Custom House is also a magnificent building ; con- 
 sisting of a centre and two wings, and having a noble Ionic 
 portico. One part is used as the Post Office. 
 
 We walked for some time along the wharves. A canal is 
 built up from the river, and it was thronged with vessels of 
 all kinds, and from all countries. Along the borders of the 
 canal, there are vast warehouses of dark brick, and a covered 
 way on the very margin of the water, to protect from the 
 weather the cargoes of ships there unladen. We crossed 
 the canal by a little bridge ; and walked on a short distance 
 till we came to the Mersey, a wide, rapid, and muddy look- 
 ing river. Steamers and boats were flying about in every 
 direction. When we came back to the canal, we were 
 obliged to wait some time, as a ship was passing through the 
 bridge, which was opened in the middle, one half swinging 
 round on one side, and the other, on the other, both parts 
 resting on the wharf We came home through many dif- 
 ferent streets, some of them dirty and miserable looking in 
 the extreme, others quite clean. One thing I have seen^ 
 here that I never saw before, wretched looking women 
 and children half clad, going about the streets, and scraping 
 up manure with their bare hands, and putting it into dirty 
 baskets, and even into their aprons. Although I have seen 
 33 
 
386 LETTERS. 
 
 many miserable, wretched looking people, although I have 
 seen many dark and dreary abodes, yet I never before saw 
 so many distressing objects, never before such cheerless 
 dwellings. 
 
 The houses are high, with deep basements, and in these 
 basements, the most of the poor people live ; their dwelling- 
 places damp, dreary, and almost entirely under ground. 
 Last evening as we took our accustomed walk, we saw many 
 pale, desolate looking women and children sitting on the 
 steps leading to their subterranean abodes, breathing for a 
 few minutes the fresh air : and polluted as that air seemed to 
 us, and almost insupportable, doubtless it was pure to them, 
 and like heaven's rich blessing, after being confined in their 
 damp cells all the day. I do not believe there is a country 
 in the world, where extreme wealth and abject poverty go 
 hand in hand as in England ; for while the nobles revel in 
 almost boundless wealth, the poor grovel in soul-destroying, 
 mind-enervating poverty. And yet how much do we hear 
 of merry, happy England ! 
 
 And although much is said of the danger of travelling in 
 Italy and France, for fear of robbers and assassins, yet I 
 never felt half the fear in the narrow, dark streets of Naples 
 and Rome, as I have in the large towns in England. Not 
 that by any means I dread the assassin's dagger here, for I 
 do not suppose murder is often committed in such public 
 places, but I actually think there are more pickpockets in 
 England than in any country on the continent. Perhaps I 
 speak too boldly on these subjects, but I give you my im- 
 pressions, and you can take them for what they are worth. 
 
 Last evening in our wanderings we lost our way, and we 
 inquired of a policeman how we should get into Dale street. 
 He pointed to two different streets, saying that they would 
 both lead into it, but he told us that they were bad streets, 
 and advised us to go home by a more circuitous and fre- 
 quented route, he himself kindly showing us the way. We 
 never ask directions from any one but a policeman, for fear 
 
LETTERS. 387 
 
 of being misled, and from them we always get civil and 
 obliging answers. 
 
 Ah welcome sight ! J. has come in with a long letter, 
 and I must leave off talking with you, and for a while listen 
 to the news from my own dear home, and then we shall 
 once be on the move, and so good bye. 
 
 Keswick, Sept. 6th. 
 My dearest P. : 
 
 You will think we have almost taken a leap here, yet 
 listen, and you shall have all the details of our journey 
 hither. We went to Lancaster from Liverpool by railway. 
 We passed by a number of manufacturing villages, and 
 through a coal district, so that the air, for nearly the whole 
 distance, was actually black with dust and smoke. The 
 country, I should judge from the snatches I got of it, was 
 fine. Lancaster is a small town on the river Lune, at a 
 little distance from its mouth. It has some shipping, good 
 wharves, and a noble range of warehouses along them. The 
 houses are mostly built of dark grey stone, some of them are 
 quite handsome, but generally they are common and dirty 
 looking. 
 
 The principal object of attraction is the castle, erected in 
 the reign of Edward III. in the fourteenth century. It is on 
 a hill commanding a good view of the town, and is well 
 built and strong, though it bears the marks of being much 
 more modern than it is said to be. It must have undergone 
 thorough repairs lately. At present it is used as a county jail. 
 
 From Lancaster we went by coach to Ambleside. To give 
 you some idea of the rapidity and ease with which we go 
 over these fine English roads, I will just say, that at that 
 time we went thirty-four miles in less than four hours. This 
 ride was more picturesque and varied than any we had before 
 taken, the last part a little too much varied, for there came 
 
9§i LETTERS. 
 
 up a violent shower, and we being on the outside of the 
 coach, did not find that so very pleasant. The country all 
 the way was hilly, and in some parts quite barren, in others, 
 green and fertile. We passed through several villages, the 
 largest of which was Kendal ; none of them were pretty. In 
 fact no where have I seen the handsome villages and cot- 
 tages, that I expected to see. As I said in one of my former 
 letters, the houses of the nobility are fine, but in the cot- 
 tages I am much disappointed, for I have always heard an 
 English cottage spoken of as the perfection of rural archi- 
 tecture. The porters' lodges at the entrance to gentlemen's 
 seats, are the prettiest specimens of cottages that I have seen 
 in this country, but they are built by wealthy persons, so 
 are no index to the architectural taste of the common 
 people. 
 
 For ten miles before reaching Ambleside our road was 
 along the margin of lake Windermere, and then the country 
 was really enchanting. The lake was not very wide, and 
 on the opposite side mountains arose, casting their shadows 
 over the water, while we wound along through varied scenes, 
 now through a wild and uncultivated tract, the thick trees 
 and underwood scarcely allowing us a glimpse of the lake, 
 and then through lawns and meadows green and bright, and the 
 lake dotted with its little islands lying in full view before us. 
 The clouds and the rain made the distant hills appear more 
 shadowy and indistinct, and thus grandeur was added to the 
 scene. It seemed more like Switzerland than England. 
 
 Ambleside is a little way from the lake, though within 
 walking distance of it, and we anticipated taking many 
 long walks amid its charming environs, but unfortunately 
 for us it rained incessantly all the time we were there, 
 and I dared not venture out, as I was suffering under a 
 severe cold; I spent the time diligently in writing, how- 
 ever, so that it by no means seemed long to me. J. 
 ventured out on the lake in despite of the rain, and came 
 home highly delighted with the sail. Afterwards in loitering 
 
LETTERS. 389 
 
 around, he was suddenly stopped in his rambles, by seeincr 
 several signs bearing the startling announcement that 
 " spring guns and man traps " were concealed in the 
 grounds around the lake, so for fear of being caught as a 
 trespasser, he hurried home. 
 
 On Friday, the sun set clearly behind the hills, brighten- 
 ing their tops with a golden lustre, and I stood at my win- 
 dow enjoying the fair prospect, and hoping that so charmino- 
 a sunset would be followed by a fair day ; but alas for hopes, 
 the next day proved even more unpleasant, the rain actually 
 pouring down in torrents, till about four o'clock when it sud- 
 denly ceased, so we started off, not knowing exactly where 
 we should stop, whether at Grasmere, or at Wylau at the 
 foot of Helvellyn, but at both places the inns seemed so un- 
 inviting, we concluded to come on to this village. 
 
 The ride was full of interest to us, the scenery was so 
 wild and grand. Near Ambleside the country was romantic 
 and picturesque, and as we wound around among hills and 
 ravines and glens, I sighed with regret that I had not been 
 able to see more of them. But why repine ? He, in whose 
 hands are the clouds and the winds, knows far better than 
 we do, how to order the elements for our good. 
 
 About a mile and a half from Ambleside, is Rydal, a 
 small lake embosomed among the hills. At the delightful 
 hour of twilight, the clear lake reflected on its glassy surface 
 the last rays of the setting sun as they shone on the moun- 
 tain tops. Near Rydal, is Wordsworth's seat, a large stone 
 house, having the grounds around it prettily laid out. A 
 mile farther on, is Coleridge's cottage, a small stone house, 
 with ivy creeping around the windows. It is not very 
 charming now, though it must have been in his time, if it is 
 the same cottage to which he alludes in some of his poems. 
 Soon we reached Grasmere, a larger lake than Rydal, also 
 surrounded by hills. It is dotted with islands, in one of 
 which the herons build their nests, the only spot about here 
 where they ever build. From Grasmere here the country 
 33* 
 
390 ;.ETTERS. 
 
 was yet more picturesque and wild. Our road wound 
 among hills and dales, now by a murmuring rivulet, now by 
 a placid lake, and then by little rushing torrents, that were 
 making their way quickly down the mountain side. All 
 these reminded me of Switzerland. We passed by Hel- 
 vellyn, a mountain rising three thousand feet above the level 
 of the sea. I turned many *' a longing, lingering look " to- 
 ward it, being anxious to ascend it, that I might say with 
 Scott, 
 
 " I climed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn," 
 
 but we could not think of stopping at so poor looking an 
 inn, and besides there was no church near, so that it would 
 not have been pleasant for us to have staid there on Sunday. 
 After leaving Helvellyn it became too dark to see much, 
 except the dusky forms of the mountains as they rose all 
 around us, and the gleaming of the waters of Thurlmere, as 
 we passed along its margin. Occasionally we heard the 
 murmuring of rivulets and cascades. 
 
 For the first time in our journey, I felt a little afraid of 
 our coachman. At every inn he took something to drink, 
 so that before we got here I did not know but he would lose 
 all control over himself, still he seemed careful and watch- 
 ful, putting on the drag at every, hill, but there we were, 
 J. and I alone, no other passengers, and in a strange 
 and wild country at a late hour, and what would have be- 
 come of us if the horses got restive, and the coachman not 
 able to manage them? I assure you I began to breathe 
 freely when we entered this village, a quiet little spot situ^ 
 ated between Derwent and Bassenthwaite lakes. 
 
 Yesterday morning we attended service in a neat little 
 Gothic church. Prayers were read with more feeling and 
 solemnity than we are accustomed to witness among the 
 English clergy. There was no sermon, but the communion 
 was administered. When we first went in the m inister was 
 catechizing the children. In reading the creed he turned 
 
LETTERS. 391 
 
 his face toward the cast. There were but few pews in the 
 church, the most of the congregation sitting on benches. 
 
 After church, we rambled along the lake side. We 
 climed up Castlerig, a high hill, and sat down where we had 
 a delightful view of the lake. All nature proclaimed a 
 Sabbath ; earth, air, water were as still as when creation's 
 light first dawned upon the world. The lake was unruffled 
 and as clear as a mirror. Its placid surface was dotted with 
 wooded islands, every tree and shrub reflected in the water. 
 All around us mountains raised their lofty peaks, while be- 
 tween them lay many a smiling vale. It was a beautiful 
 scene, well suited to the day. We had just gone from 
 worshipping God in His sanctuary, here was a still more 
 beautiful temple in which we could adore Him. And oh ! 
 how full everything was of His praise ! The little birds 
 seemed to warble sweeter notes, and all nature wore a 
 smiling aspect as if in gratitude to Him, who had set apart 
 this day for His more immediate worship and service. 
 
 At our feet, at a little distance from the lake, clustered 
 the houses of Keswick, and farther on, o'ertopped by lofty 
 hills, lay the beautiful sheet of '* Bassenthwaite water." 
 After we left Castlerig we walked along to the end of the 
 lake, admiring the scenery, which grew grander as we went 
 on. The hills became higher and more sterile, the woods 
 were wilder and more overgrown with underbrush, a little 
 brook went gurgling by, and two or three cascades came 
 jumping down the mountain side, leaping from rock to rock, 
 fearless and free. 
 
 In the evening J. went again to church, but I spent 
 the quiet hour in my own room. It was a cheerful room, 
 with a bright fire burning in the grate, and as I sat in a large 
 chair before it, and looked at the red coals, my mind in- 
 sensibly wandered to you, and I fancied to myself how you 
 were all looking, and what you were all doing. Need I say 
 I longed to be in your midst? In one month we shall 
 probably be on the sea, and then if we safely pass through 
 
392; LETTERS. 
 
 the dangers of a voyage at that inclement season of the year, 
 we shall soon be with you. 
 
 We have spent the most of this day in walking around the 
 charming environs of this village. About two miles from 
 here is what is called ** The Druids' Temple." It consists 
 of large stones, or I might call them rocks, placed around in 
 a ring ; on one side within the enclosure are several other 
 stones, supposed to have been used as altars for the sacri- 
 fices. This temple is in a wild place lying in a little hol- 
 low, with lofty hills rising up around it. 
 
 After we left it we started to go to Bassenthwaite water, 
 and we walked till I was too tired to go another step, then 
 finding that we should pass by the lake to-morrow we turned 
 our steps towards home. We passed (at a little distance 
 from the road) Greta Hall, the residence of Southey. The 
 large stone house is almost hidden from sight by the nu- 
 merous trees around it. It is a delightful spot. Indeed all 
 around these lakes are beautiful seats. The weather to-day 
 has been warm and pleasant, though there was some frost 
 last night. For two or three days it has been as cold as it 
 it is with us in November, so that we have been obliged to 
 have a fire to sit by. 
 
 I came home from walking with a violent headache, so 
 that I was forced to seek rest in sleep, and although this 
 evening there were fireworks on the lake, I could not sum- 
 mon resolution to go out to see them. 
 
 And now it is time that this long letter were brought to a 
 close, so I leave you. 
 
 Newcastle, Wednesday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 We left Keswick quite early yesterday morning. I am 
 happy to bear testimony to the quiet and comfortable inn at 
 that place, and then too the charges were so moderate. 
 
LETTERS. 393 
 
 Though we were there three nights and two days, and had a 
 parlor and a fire in it, our bill was but fourteen shillings, 
 (understand me, when I speak of money I always mean the 
 money here, unless I say " our money," and if you will just 
 bear in mind that English money is one third more than 
 ours, you will readily know the value of the sums I mention ; 
 thus, three shillings here is four with you, and so on. Pray 
 pardon this interruption and explanation, but I did not know 
 but that in the hurry of reading my wordy epistles, you 
 might not have this fact in your recollection, and so not 
 give full justice to the high prices set upon every thing in 
 this country.) As we had our breakfast yesterday morning 
 in a hurry, our kind landlady would not make any mention 
 of it in her bill. I sent my best respects to her, and told 
 her I would do myself the pleasure of recommending her 
 house. Will you allow me again to go a little off my track, 
 to say a few words in relation to the inns in this country 1 
 
 They are mostly kept by women ; if indeed there is an 
 host, he keeps in the background, the cares and labors 
 seeming to devolve entirely upon the females of the house. 
 Indeed at some inns where we have stopped, I have not 
 seen a man servant, our chambermaid attending on us at 
 table, and always answering our bell. This of course 
 applies to the small inns in country towns. 
 
 And now I will come back to our journey from Keswick 
 to Carlisle. We found a ride of six hours on top of a 
 coach in a raw, windy morning, not so very pleasant, but 
 wrapped in our thick cloaks, we braved the wind and cold, 
 preferring to see the country to taking a seat inside, where 
 we might have been a little more comfortable. 
 
 We passed by Bassenthwaite water, a most beautiful lake, 
 about four miles long and one broad. It is encircled by 
 mountains, the loftiest of which is Skiddaw, the highest 
 mountain in England. For nearly a mile our road lay along 
 the side of the lake, and through the o'erhanging trees we 
 caught many glimpses of the water, as it sparkled in the 
 early rays of the sun. 
 
394 LETTERS. 
 
 The remainder of the ride was not remarkably interesting. 
 The country was hilly and not much cultivated. We rode 
 through Cockermouth, a small town at the entrance of the 
 Cocker into the Derwent. The principal street was quite 
 wide, but the houses were poor looking. On an artificial 
 mount outside the town were the ruins of an ancient cas- 
 tle, originally the residence of the Lords of Allerdale. 
 
 In going through a little village we saw over a shop door 
 the sign of " Betty Martin." Query, is it the " High Betty 
 Martin " of nursery memory. 
 
 At an inn where we stopped, J. saw one of the old school 
 clergymen. He was sitting at a little table, as jolly as could 
 be with his mug of ale before him, and his pipe in his 
 mouth. We saw the church in which he preaches. Truly 
 he must be an edifying parish priest. 
 
 We passed through Wigton, a small village, but yester- 
 day in all the bustle of a market-day. In the principal 
 streets were shambles, on which were displayed, as usual on 
 such occasions, not only provisions, but all kinds of cloth- 
 ing needful for the body. Generally market days are held 
 twice a week in these small villages, at which time the 
 country people come in with their produce, and the whole 
 neighborhood turns out, either as buyers or sellers. 
 
 Carlisle is quite a large town, but a miserably smoky 
 place. I declare I get out of all patience with such nasty 
 air. It stuffs my throat and my lungs, and keeps my head 
 full of aches and pains all the time And this is not all. 
 I cannot come in from walking without finding two or three 
 " beauty spots " on my face, and if by chance 1 leave a 
 letter or my journal on my table near an open window, in 
 a few minutes the fair page is covered with fine specks. 
 And this dust and dirt are so saturated with moisture that 
 they stick to you like a plaster. Now don't think I am 
 jesting, or that I needlessly complain of these little annoy- 
 ances, I am giving you the plain, unvarnished truth. 
 
 The principal object of interest to us in Carlisle was the 
 
LETTERS. 395 
 
 old castle. Within the enclosure of its wall are several 
 different buildings, mostly used as barracks. In one of the 
 towers there is a very deep well, dug to supply the garrison 
 with water. Underneath this tower are the dungeons, in 
 one of which William Armstrong the freebooter was con- 
 fined. In a prison in the tower Fergus Mac Ivor was once 
 held in durance vile, and in an ancient tower now not 
 standing, Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned. On the 
 top of that tower was the flag-staff, but by its constant mo- 
 tion, as it was swayed by the wind, the foundations were 
 undermined, so that it was necessary to take down the 
 tower. One of the workmen found within a part of the 
 walls, the skeleton of a woman who in some manner had 
 there been fastened up. A part of her dress which was of 
 silk, is now in the town, belonging to the wife of the man 
 who made the discovery. This marvellous story we had 
 from the soldier who guided us around the castle. From 
 the battlements we had as good a view of the country 
 around, as the almost impenetrable state of the atmosphere 
 would permit. 
 
 In the town is a fine old cathedral, and though our hearts 
 yearned after this noble monument of other days, yet we 
 did not think it expedient to stop to visit it. It is said 
 there was formerly a subterranean passage from the church 
 to the castle. 
 
 The court house and jail are very handsome buildings 
 in the castellated style, and are quite ornamental to the 
 place. At the inn where we stopped we had a luncheon 
 of bread and butter and an apple-tart, for which we were 
 charged the comfortable sum of three shillings sixpence. 
 
 From Carlisle here, a distance of sixty miles, we came 
 by railroad. I should think the country might be fine be- 
 tween the two places, but I could see but little of it, being 
 hurried along so fast, and then too the air was so thick, we 
 could have seen nothing, if we had gone ever so slowly. 
 We however made out to see some majestic ruins, and 
 
96 LETTERS. 
 
 handsome villas, and to get several views of the Tyne, a 
 pretty river. 
 
 At the different stations on the road are beautiful houses, 
 all in the Gothic style, though no two I believe are alike. 
 Since leaving Keswick, we have seen men and boys wearing 
 large plaids over their shoulders. And as for understanding 
 any thing we hear, we might as well be in Germany as here, 
 for every body around us speaks such a peculiar lingo, that 
 it is difficult to find out what is meant. Yesterday morning 
 we had a sociable old gentleman on the top of the coach 
 with us, (quite different from the generality of the English, 
 who never vouchsafe to give you a word of information.) 
 He sat next to me, and kept pointing out different objects 
 of interest to us, yet I could not understand one word in 
 twenty that he said, so I answered at cross purposes, saying 
 ** Yes," when I judged from the expression of his face that 
 I ought to have said " No ; " and finally, to put an end to 
 my embarrassment I feigned sleep, for I did not like to tell 
 him that it was useless to expend so much breath on me, as 
 I could not understand what he said. 
 
 And now I come to the adventures of this day. You 
 cannot guess where we have been, neither shall I leave you 
 long in suspense, for if I do, some of your will be peeping 
 farther down the page to find out for yourselves. So to the 
 point at once ; it was down into a coal pit, nearly five hun- 
 dred feet below the surface of the earth ! Perhaps it was 
 not so romantic or fatiguing a journey as climbing up Vesu- 
 vius, not so classical as visiting the disinterred cities of 
 Pompeii and Herculaneum, but certainly as hazardous, and 
 indeed requiring more courage than either. 
 
 But I must begin, prosy like, at the commencement, or 
 else I shall never get through. We sent to the office of the 
 coal company, to get a permit to visit the mines. This being 
 obtained, we found we had to go at least two miles, and by 
 so circuitous a way, that our landlord said he could not di- 
 rect us, so we took a cab. No sooner were we out of the 
 
LETTERS. 397 
 
 precincts of the city, than we had to pay one shillino- for 
 toll, and when we stopped, three for the carriage, so we 
 dismissed the man, choosing to walk back, as we had the 
 whole day before us. 
 
 Arriving at the colliery and presenting our order, a new 
 difficulty arose, for the overseer told us that it would be im- 
 possible for us to go down in the clothes we had on. Now 
 our habiliments were none of the best, but they were the 
 very best we had with us, and as it would be nearly a month 
 before we could have our trunks, it behooved us to take 
 good care of them. To give up going down was not to be 
 mentioned, to spoil our clothes was equally disagreeable, so 
 we stood looking at each other, not knowing what to do, till 
 at last the overseer relieved our anxiety by offering to lend 
 J. some clothes. " But then the lady," (me you know), 
 " what could she do? " " Oh," I told him, " any old dress 
 will do for me." So he invited us into his house, and called 
 his wife to my assistance, but when I saw her, a bouncing, 
 fat woman, I groaned aloud, for I saw no prospect of any 
 of her clothes fitting me. However, after a little consulta- 
 tion, J. disappeared at one door, and I at another. Shall I 
 describe my appearance ! Ah ! I almost fear that " words 
 of utterance" will fail me, as a lady said when attempting 
 to describe Niagara. The old lady brought out a dark cal- 
 ico dress, which sat as loosely as possible upon me. Then 
 she insisted on my putting on one of her clean caps, with a 
 wide, stiff, double border, which projected at least six inches 
 from my face ; and as though this was not enough to render 
 me irresistible, she gave me a black silk bonnet, the front 
 quite a half yard deep, and which stuck right up in the air 
 after the fashion of the old *' sky scrapers," thus bringing 
 my face with its cap border in full view. Now, however 
 little this costume might have become me, I thought it still 
 less becoming to find fault with it before the nice old lady, 
 who in the kindness of her heart brought out her best attire 
 for the stranger, so I made no remark on my appearance, 
 34 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 except just saying that older and more common clothes 
 would answer, and stealing one look in the glass at my cap 
 border, I went down stairs. But when I saw J., my feelings 
 could no longer be restrained, and I laughed long and loud, 
 and the overseer and his wife heartily joined me. No de- 
 scription can do justice to his appearance. The overseer is 
 a large portly man, and as J. is not among the great of the 
 earth, he looked as comical as possible. He wore a short 
 jacket (which was any thing but short on him) and pants of 
 blue broadcloth, which did not begin to fit him. On his 
 head he wore a little cap, and altogether his whole appear- 
 ance was such, that I could not refrain from laughing 
 every time I looked at him. But you may be assured that 
 as we neared the opening to the mines, and saw the square 
 bucket ascend, and knew that in that little thing we must 
 descend into the inner regions of the earth, personal ap- 
 pearance was the last object of thought. For a moment I 
 drew back, and said " I cannot go," but my invincible cu- 
 riosity and perseverance led me on, and with a quick, though 
 trembling step, I took my place in the bucket beside J., 
 and opposite the overseer. The signal was given, and we 
 began to move, quicker andj quicker ; darker and still 
 darker it grew, closer and still more oppressive was the air, 
 and I felt sick and faint, but will you believe me, even then 
 the thought of our ludicrous appearance came to my mind, 
 and I laughed out. In a moment we were down. The 
 bucket was filled with coals, and was again creaking up. 
 And what a sight did we have to repay us for our trouble ! 
 The low arched passages were faintly lit with here and 
 there a glimmering taper, while the dark forms and dingy 
 faces of the miners added gloominess to the scene. 
 
 My eyes soon became accustomed to the strange light, 
 and then I began to take pleasure in looking about me, 
 and in gleaning all the information I could from the over- 
 seer, or " reviewer," as he is here called, though I found it 
 somewhat difficult to understand him. 
 
LETTERS. 399 
 
 The substance of my in formation is as follows. This 
 mine extends more than three (juarters of a mile in len<^th, 
 going directly under the Tyne. The coal lies in layers 
 about two feet deep, and is very thick. One hundred and 
 forty men nnd boys are here employed, and each one has 
 daily Iiis allotted portion of work, say twelve or fifteen feet. 
 He digs under the layer, puts in a little powder, and blows 
 it up. Boys then take it in their carts, carry it to the open- 
 ing of the i)it, where it is put in the bucket and drawn up. 
 duite as singidar a feature as any in this subterranean place, 
 was the horses. Fifteen are constantly kept there. Their 
 legs are tied together, and they are then put into the bucket 
 and lowered down to the mines, and are never taken back 
 again, unless some accident overtakes them. In one part 
 of the mine are their stalls, and by means of a pipe, fresh 
 water is conveyed down for their use. The air was not at 
 all bad;* a large fire is kept burning night and day, to 
 counteract the effect <^f the dampness, and there are large 
 openings in the surface of the earth, so that the noxious 
 vapors are carried off. 
 
 Every thing went on in perfect order while we were there ; 
 each one was busy with his work, though I thought at first 
 the miners looked at me rather steadily, but wliether in ad- 
 miration of my cap or of my courage, I could not tell, for I 
 suppose many of them never before saw a femah; there, 
 indeed only five or six have ever been down, and but Uiw 
 men, excepting those connected with the mines; and the 
 overseer told me that .several gentlemen in going down, had 
 been quite ov(trcome with fear, so you see I may pride 
 myself in having more courage than some of the stronger 
 sex. 
 
 But I have got away from my coal subject. The work 
 goes on night and day, the men being changed three times, 
 and the boys twice in twenty-four hours. The boys seemed 
 happy, for they sang and whistled very cheerily, as they 
 drove their horses along. From twenty-five to thirty thou- 
 
400 LETTERS. 
 
 sand chaldrons of coal are produced every year from this 
 mine, the duty is fourteen or fifteen shillings a chaldron. 
 
 After staying down an hour, we once more took our 
 places in the bucket, without any trepidation on my part, 
 though I knew the slightest disarrangement in the ma- 
 chinery would be fatal to us. Around the entrance to the 
 mine are good houses for the miners, and for the rent, with 
 the use of as much coal as they can burn, they have to pay 
 but a shilling a month. 
 
 When we got to the reviewer's house we found water and 
 every convenience for becoming ourselves again, and after 
 we had undergone our metamorphosis, the good wife brought 
 out some crackers and wine which she pressed us to par- 
 take. Neither she nor her husband would take any re- 
 muneration for their trouble, so we sat a half hour with 
 them trying by the agreeableness of our conversation to 
 make all the returns we could for their kindness." Worthy 
 people ! I wish I could have given them some more tangible 
 proof of my gratitude. 
 
 We had a comfortable walk back to town, and instead of 
 coming directly to our rooms, walked about the different 
 streets, so that we might see all that was worthy of regard. 
 The old and lower part of the town is as dirty and ugly 
 looking as possible. The houses look as though built " in 
 the year one." And so many narrow alleys and lanes I never 
 saw before in any one town. In this part of the town is the 
 castle built in the time of William I. It is an antique look- 
 ing affair. Not far from this is the Church of St. Nicholas, 
 the spire of which is very curious, being finished off in the 
 shape of an imperial crown. 
 
 The higher and newer streets are very handsome ; they 
 are quite wide, and are lined with fine houses, many of 
 which are adorned with Ionic pillars. Indeed some of the 
 houses would not discredit London. Grey street, in which 
 our hotel (the Turk's Head) stands, is an elegant street ; 
 at the upper end of it there is a large monument erected to 
 
LETTERS. 401 
 
 Lord Grey, crowned with a statue of that nobleman. The 
 theatre opposite to us is adorned with a noble portico. 
 
 Newcastle is a place of considerable business. There is 
 a good deal of shipping here, and a brisk trade always in 
 coal. In one year eight hundred thousand chaldrons were 
 exported. There are two bridges over the Tyne, one of 
 nine arches, and the other a suspension bridge. 
 
 And now dear , I wish you once more good night, and 
 
 may you sleep as well after this long letter, as I doubtless 
 shall, for I have slept most soundly and refreshingly ever 
 since I left the fleay district in Italy. Indeed, I have 
 nothing to ask for, I enjoy good health, have a good appe- 
 tite, and am happy and cheerful all the day, and need only 
 to see your dear faces once more to make me almost wild 
 with joy. 
 
 " Fly swiftly rouad ye wheels of time, 
 And bring the welcome day." 
 
 Melrose, Sept. 10. 
 My dearest F.: 
 
 Behold us now in Scotia's land, the land rich in historic 
 and poetic lore, the land of Scott and Burns and Wilson, 
 and a host of other worthies. 
 
 We left Newcastle yesterday afternoon, and arrvied here 
 late last evening, the distance being seventy miles. Judge hov/ 
 pleasant the ride was to us, when I tell you that we rode on 
 the outside of the coach, in a pouring rain nearly all the time. 
 The inside was full, so there was no alternative but to brave 
 as well as possible ** the peltmgs of the pitiless storm." The 
 country was tame and rather uninteresting, our way often 
 lying over barren heaths, though occassionally we saw a fer- 
 tile spot. Thirty miles from Newcastle we passed through 
 Otterburn, a pretty little village, with a grand old castle, 
 now used as a jail. We stopped at O. to dine, though not 
 34* 
 
402 LETTERS. 
 
 more than fifteen or twenty minutes were allowed us for din- 
 ner. And you know how much the English talk about 
 Americans eating so rapidly. A mile beyond this village 
 the celebrated battle of Chevy Chace took place. 
 
 After toiling up a long, steep hill called Carter Fell, a 
 part of the range of Cheviot hills, we came into Scotland. 
 It was however so dark, we could see nothing of the country, 
 except by the light of the coach lamps. By these we were 
 enabled to see that we were passing through picturesque 
 scenes, our road often being through woods, the branches 
 of the trees meeting over our heads. We regretted that the 
 ride must be taken at night, particularly when we rode 
 through the village of Jedburgh, and saw the ruins of an old 
 abbey ; however we had to come at night or not at all. 
 
 We came in the mail coach, consequently had a guard 
 mounted behind, whose duty it is to blow a horn before 
 coming to a posthouse, that a change of horses may be all 
 ready, and to keep cows, children, and other hindrances 
 out of the road, so in addition to the coachman we had him 
 to fee. It is bad enough to have to pay a coachman every 
 twenty or thirty miles, but when a guard is added it is 
 doubly vexatious. However, as it is the custom of the • 
 country, it will do no good to complain. 
 
 We have had quite enough to excite our enthusiasm to- 
 day, as you will easily imagine when you hear our adven- 
 tures related. Immediately after breakfast, we started for 
 Abbotsford, about four miles from here. The country was 
 pleasant, though not so very beautiful as I expected to find 
 it. There was however a variety of hill and dale, enlivened 
 by the meander ings of the Tweed. So very secluded is 
 Abbotsford, that we did not see it till we were directly 
 before it. After we entered the grounds, we rode a lit- 
 tle distance through woods growing in wild luxuriance, 
 then passing through an arched gateway, we found our- 
 selves in the circular gravel walk in front of the house. 
 It is a much handsomer building than I expected to see. 
 
LETTERS. 403 
 
 It is two stories high, and is built of light grey stone in the 
 castellated order. The roof is turreted, and even the 
 chimnies are finished off in Gothic style. There is an air 
 of perfect neatness and chasteness about it, and the interior 
 fully justifies the expectations awakened by the exterior, for 
 there proofs are seen of Sir Walter's taste both in the col- 
 lection and arrangement of the articles. 
 
 We entered through a portico, adorned with the petrified 
 horns of stags, into a hall considered by some the finest 
 room in the house. The walls are paneled with carved oak 
 from the palace of Dunfermline. Around the cornices are 
 painted the coats of arms of those who kept the borders 
 or marches. On the walls are hung various pieces of 
 ancient armor, and implements of warfare. There is a 
 beautiful fireplace, the arch of which was copied from one 
 in Melrose Abbey. Among the interesting relics here seen, 
 are the keys of the tolbooth, (the old prison of Edinburgh,) 
 and the pulpit from which Erskine preached. 
 
 From the hall we passed through a narrow passage, arched 
 in imitation of one of the aisles in Melrose Abbey, to the 
 armory. This is filled with coats of mail, warlike instru- 
 ments, and other objects of interest, all once belonging to 
 celebrated personages. I can recollect now but few things ; 
 the gun of Rob Roy, having his initials upon it, the slipper 
 ofTippoo Saib, a sword presented to Sir Walter by the 
 Celtic Society, Sir Walter's own pistols, and many other 
 things which I regret that I did not note down at the time. 
 
 We visited the breakfast, dining, and drawing-rooms ; all 
 having antique looking furniture, and windows of stained 
 glass. In the drawing-room there is a set of ebony chairs, 
 presented by George IV. ; and in the library, a splendid 
 cabinet of the like materials, from the same monarch. The 
 dining-room has a ceiling of black oak richly carved. It 
 contains a good collection of paintings ; amongst which are 
 portraits of Nell Gwynne, and of Sir Walter's great grand- 
 father, who never trimmed his beard after the execution of 
 Charles I. 
 
404 LETTERS. 
 
 Among other curiosities, we saw a chair made from the 
 wood of the barn, in which Wallace was betrayed into the 
 hands of his enemies. And now we come to the library, a 
 splendid room, with a ceiling of carved oak. There are 
 about twenty thousand volumes neatly arranged in cases. 
 Over the fireplace is a full-length portrait of the present Sir 
 Walter, now in India. Adjoining the library is the study, 
 to me the most interesting room of all. I felt like one who 
 visits the favorite room of a dear friend, now no more, and 
 sees his books, his chair, and table just as he left them, 
 every thing, indeed, having the impress of that friend's hand. 
 Such were my sensations, as I stood within the little room 
 where Walter Scott wrote the most of his works, and as I 
 gazed around, I could scarcely repress the rising tears. 
 There was his table, and on it his inkstand and pen ; and 
 before it his large arm-chair, and a little footstool covered 
 with some kind of a skin. In cases around the room were 
 his favorite authors. A light staircase leads to a gallery that 
 runs around the room, communicating with his dressing- 
 room ; so that he could pass at once into his study in the 
 morning, without risk of meeting any of the visitors with 
 which his house was generally thronged. A double window 
 served to shut out all noise ; and there, in that quiet, secluded 
 retreat, the poet and the novelist gave the full rein to his 
 imagination. 
 
 In a small closet out of the study are the clothes Sir 
 Walter last wore. The coat is of dark green cloth, and the 
 vest and pantaloons of black and white plaid, and over them 
 hung a broad brimmed white hat. Near by were his boots, 
 with his hatchet and hammer, which last he always wore 
 buckled around his waist whenever he went into the woods. 
 Need I say how interesting such relics were to us ? We 
 could have lingered for hours in the library and study, but 
 the housekeeper's impatient gestures plainly said, " I wish 
 you would hurry," and so we left Abbotsford, doubtless 
 forever. 
 
LETTERS. 405 
 
 After we came back here, we stopped a few minutes, and 
 then went to Dryburgh Abbey, four miles off in another 
 direction. We had grand views of the surrounding country, 
 as we ascended a steep hill. At a little distance from the 
 road, we saw a colossal statue, or "statute" as our driver 
 persisted in calling it, of Wallace, erected by the Earl of 
 Buchan. We intended paying it a visit, but the rain coming 
 on prevented us. We were obliged to leave our carriage on 
 the banks of the Tweed, and to be ferried over that stream, 
 as the pretty little suspension bridge had been blown down. 
 We had a quiet walk of three quarters of a mile, and then 
 we reached the abbey. It is in the grounds of the Earl 
 of Buchan, and is an interesting relic of days gone by. 
 Trees have sprung up within the once hallowed enclosure, 
 and even o'ertop the mouldering roof; ivy and moss cover 
 the decaying walls. A portion of a staircase still remains ; 
 and by it we clambered up to a part of the roof, where we 
 walked upon sod as though we were on the very earth. 
 
 In one of the aisles lie Sir Walter Scott and his lady: No 
 stone tells their last resting-place ; no sod even covers their 
 remains. And yet they need no monument. Among these 
 lonely ruins, overgrown with the creeping ivy, where the 
 Tweed flows quietly by the remains of former days, is a fit 
 sepulchre for Walter Scott. 
 
 The room called the Chapter House still remains entire. 
 It contains a great number of busts in plaster of eminent 
 individuals, both of ancient and modern times. This abbey 
 must have been an extensive building in its day, for it is 
 quite a walk to get around it. 
 
 Again we were ferried across the Tweed, here a wide, 
 rapid river. It winds beautifully through the country ; its 
 pretty, rural banks forming one of the most pleasing features 
 of the landscape. 
 
 Although it rained fast when we got back, we were once 
 more tempted out ; and this time to see the far-famed Melrose 
 Abbey, now a complete, though majestic ruin. The choir, 
 
406 LETTERS. 
 
 part of the walls of the tower, a portion of the nave, and 
 nearly the whole of the side aisles are yet standing. At the 
 upper end of the choir is a beautiful Gothic window. The 
 pillars which formerly supported the roof have richly sculp- 
 tured capitals, and the cornices of the ceiling are covered 
 with ancient carvings. The aisles are narrow with elegant 
 arches. Grass has sprung up within " the court of the house 
 of the Lord," though there are not as many trees around as 
 at Dryburgh. I cannot imagine any thing more touching 
 than these ruins, though we saw them under great disadvan- 
 tages, for the rain was pouring down all the time we were 
 there, and as we were without shelter, and had to walk 
 through the long grass, our enthusiasm was rather dampened, 
 still we lingered and rambled about, going even across the 
 churchyard to get a good view of the whole building. Scott 
 says, — 
 
 " If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, 
 
 Go, visit it by pale moonlight ; 
 
 For the gay beams of lightsome day, 
 
 Gild but to flout the ruins grey : " 
 
 but as there is no moon just now, we were obliged to " visit 
 it" by daylight; but as the day was not very "lightsome," 
 " the ruins grey " were not gilded, but had a dark and sombre 
 hue, which well became them. Within the abbey many 
 distinguished persons have been buried ; among whom are 
 Alexander II., James the Earl of Douglass, who fell at the 
 battle of Chevy Chace, and several other members of the 
 Douglass family. Here also, it is said, the heart of Robert 
 Bruce was deposited. In the nave are some fragments of 
 pillars, and there Sir Walter used to sit, when he came to 
 " fair Melrose." 
 
 And now that I have given you the records of the past 
 two days, may I not be allowed to retire once more out of 
 sight? As always yours. 
 
LETTERS. 407 
 
 Edinburgh, September 13lh. 
 Dear P. : 
 
 At length we are in the metropolis of Scotland, and a fine 
 city it is too, I can assure you. We arrived here Saturday 
 noon, having had a pleasant though cool ride from Melrose. 
 The first part of the way, the country was delightful, the 
 road winding through the valley of the Tweed. We had a 
 fine view of Abbotsford, as it lifted its turreted head above 
 the dark w^oods that surround it. A few miles from Melrose, 
 we passed through the village of Galashiels, a neat little 
 place, celebrated for its manufactories of woollen goods, par- 
 ticularly shawls, a plenty of which of all colors was hung out 
 to dry. The remainder of the ride, we did not find so pleas- 
 ant. The country was hilly, and not very fertile. It grew 
 however more beautiful and better cultivated as we neared 
 this city. We passed some handsome estates, amono-st 
 which was Lord Melville's seat, where George IV. stopped 
 when in Scotland. We are at Mrs. Elder's, No. 5, Albany 
 street, a quiet boarding place, where we already feel quite 
 at home. 
 
 Yesterday morning we went to the Presbyterian place 
 of worship with Miss E. expecting to hear Dr. Muis, a 
 celebrated preacher, but he did not " hold forth." Not 
 being very well, having taken cold in our rambles about 
 Melrose, I spent the most of the day in my own room. J. 
 went in the afternoon to hear Dr. Chalmers, but as usual 
 was disappointed, the Dr. not preaching. 
 
 To-day we began the duties of sight-seeing, and began 
 too at an hour unusual with me, for we started two hours 
 before breakfast, going to the hill, or mountain I should say, 
 named Arthur's Seat. It rises eight hundred feet above the 
 level of the sea, overtops all the surrounding hills, and of 
 course commands a good view, not only of the city, but of the 
 adjacent country. A little below the summit is a ridge of 
 bold and precipitous rocks, called Salisbury Crags. Not 
 knowing the path to Arthur's Seat, we went up by the crags, 
 
408 LETTERS. 
 
 thus making the walk doubly long and fatiguing, for from 
 the crags we had actually to climb to reach the seat, whereas 
 if we had gone the right way, we should have found a good 
 path leading to the very top. 
 
 From this spot so elevated, we had a grand view, although 
 the air was rather thick and smoky, however we saw enough 
 to compensate us for our labor. Need I say that Edinburgh is 
 situated on the Frith of Forth, and that it is divided into two 
 parts, the old and the new town ? Every child that has ever 
 studied geography knows this ; I merely put it down here 
 that my after remarks may be better understood. The old 
 town is situated on the side of a hill, and is separated by a 
 ravine from the new, and there never could be a more 
 striking contrast between two cities than between these two 
 divisions of this one town. The houses of the old town are 
 high and ancient looking, those of the new of moderate 
 height, modern, chaste, and elegant. But of this more anon. 
 From Arthur's Seat, the two are too closely blended together 
 to allow these peculiarities to be noticed, and the whole pre- 
 sents a fine view. The clusters of houses are varied by 
 handsome spires stretching up from all parts of the city. In 
 front lies the Frith studded with rocky islets, and having 
 high ranges of hills on either side, while farther on the 
 waters expand into the broad sea. Behind, the country is 
 varied with hill and dale and rocks and woods, and skirted 
 by the bold range of Pentland Hills. Below is Calton Hill, 
 adorned with monuments and statues, amongst which is a 
 huge monument to Nelson, in the form of a tower ; also 
 monuments to Stewart and PI ay fair, the national monument, 
 erected in honor of the victory of Waterloo, intended to be a 
 copy of the Parthenon, but unfortunately the builders began 
 without counting the cost, and after getting up twelve 
 beautiful pillars, were unable to go any farther, so that it has 
 remained, and may yet remain for some time, *' in statu quo," 
 and a monument to Burns, in the form of a circular temple, 
 within which is the statue of the poet by Flaxman. 
 
LETTERS. 409 
 
 At the foot of Arthur's Seat is Holyrood Castle, of which 
 I shall presently have more to say. The walk up this hill 
 was a favorite one with Sir Walter Scott, and he speaks of 
 of it in the highest terms of praise, in the Heart of Mid 
 Lothian. 
 
 As we came down, we passed the ruins of St. Anthony's 
 Chapel, the place of meeting of Jeannie Deans and Robert- 
 son. We returned after a long walk with a more than 
 usually sharp appetite for breakfast, after which with un- 
 daunted strength and energy we started off again. Allow 
 me here to throw in a few desultory remarks in relation to 
 this, the metropolis of Scotland. The new town is one of 
 the finest places imaginable. The streets are wide and re- 
 markably clean, the houses of simple and in some respects 
 of almost stern architecture. In this part the nobility and 
 higher classes of people live, and so much of the time do they 
 stay from this, their city abode, that most of the streets are 
 quite grass-grown. 
 
 There is nothing in Edinburgh that strikes a stranger 
 more impressively than the high bridges thrown over some 
 of the streets, often passing directly over the roofs of houses. 
 
 This might with truth be called " the monumental city," 
 for besides all the monuments on Calton Hill, the whole town 
 is sprinkled over with statues and monuments. In St. 
 Andrew's square, near our house, is an enormous affair in 
 the monumental line, erected to Lord Melville. It is a 
 fluted pillar one hundred and thirty-six feet in height, and 
 surmounted by a statue of that nobleman fourteen feet high. 
 Near this is the statue of George IV., and in front of the 
 Royal Bank there is an equestrian statue of the Earl of 
 Hopetoun, and yet I do not know that I can call it " eques- 
 trian," as the figure is not on the horse, but standing beside 
 it. The horse is in an attitude I have never before seen in 
 marble, his head is bent down and one foot is raised, as if 
 in the act of pawing the ground. It is a magnificent piece 
 of art, and I never fail to stop and admire it every time I go 
 35 
 
410 LETTERS. 
 
 by. In our rambles we have passed still other statues, but 
 these are all I can particularize just now. 
 
 Let us come now to the old town, and cross one of the 
 bridges thrown over the hollow which separates the two 
 towns, and pause a moment to look down upon the busy 
 people passing beneath us. We have now entered High 
 street, the principal street of the old town. Many of the 
 houses are eight stories high, and some ten. From this 
 street there are numberless narrow lanes leading down the 
 hill ; these are called " closes." 
 
 This morning we found the streets full of people, the most 
 of them dirty looking, and many of them without shoes or 
 stockings. We passed St. Giles' Church, a fine looking 
 edifice with a spire, like the one I noticed in Newcastle, 
 having the top in the shape of a crown. In the interior, this 
 beautiful church is divided into three distinct parts, so that 
 the impressive effect of its architecture is wholly lost. 
 
 Opposite is the Exchange. Here we applied for tickets 
 to see the Regalia or crown jewels at the castle. In the 
 room where we went, there were two small closets, the doors 
 barred and locked on the outside. I thought they were 
 places of deposit for books and records, but hearing some 
 one coughing in one of them, I soon found out they were 
 depositories for live stock, in the shape of those taken up for 
 violating the laws; for presently an officer came, and opening 
 one of the doors led off a young girl, and afterwards from 
 the other closet a man, and a little while after, the girl was 
 brought back again and once more committed to her place 
 of confinement. 
 
 After we got our order we started for the castle, but upon 
 looking at our ticket, we found that it was not to admit us till 
 two o'clock, and as it was then but twelve, we had ample 
 time to look about us, not caring to go home to spend the 
 interval that awaited us. We returned to St. Giles, and 
 once more walked around that venerable church. Directly 
 back of it, are the Parliament House, and buildincrs contain- 
 
LETTERS. 411 
 
 ing public offices, all handsome edifices, and in the square 
 between them and the church, there is an equestrian statue 
 of Charles XL 
 
 We proceeded down High street, the lower part of which 
 is called Canongate, to Holyrood Palace, a large edifice built 
 around a court ninety-four feet square, around which runs a 
 colonnade. The front of the palace is flanked by castellated 
 towers. The rooms, excepting those formerly occupied by 
 the unfortunate Mary Stuart, are exceedingly common-place, 
 having the most ordinary furniture imaginable. The picture 
 gallery is one hundred and fifty feet long, but I could scarcely 
 restrain my mirth on seeing the pictures. They purport to 
 be portraits of all the kings of Scotland ; how faithful the 
 representations may be, I cannot tell, but as works of art 
 they are miserable daubs. The fact seems to be, as far as 
 one can find out, that once on a time there were in this 
 palace, fine portraits, and as records of the past glory of 
 Scotland, valuable ones too, but they were so much injured 
 in the times of Cromwell, that it was necessary to copy them. 
 They now look about alike, excepting that every other one 
 had his face turned to the right, and the alternate ones to the 
 left. Indeed, as somebody has said, I know not who, " They 
 appear to be mostly by the same hand, painted either from 
 the imagination, or from porters hired to sit for the oc- 
 casion." 
 
 A suite of apartments was then shown, occupied by 
 Charles X. of France, also the throne-room fitted up in 1822 
 for George IV. who here held his court. The throne and 
 chair of state are well enough, but the hangings are in poor 
 taste. 
 
 Then we came to dueen Mary's rooms, furnished in an 
 antique style, and exactly as they were in the time of that 
 hapless sovereign. There stands her bed, covered with faded 
 red damask, and a chair is shown, as well as several other 
 pieces of work, embroidered by her own hands. In a little 
 room just out of the bed-chamber, Rizzio was murdered by 
 
412 LETTERS. 
 
 Lords Darnley and Ruthven, who entered the outer room 
 by a private passage from the chapeh They attacked the 
 unfortunate secretary, who was at supper with the queen, 
 and dragged him to the door of her bed-chamber, where he 
 fell pierced with fifty-six wounds. The blood-stains yet 
 remain, though more than two centuries have rolled away 
 since the foul murder was committed. You have doubtless 
 heard the story of the travelling pedlar, who visited this 
 palace, and on hearing this melancholy story, and seeing in 
 the dark stains, confirmation sure of its truth, instantly threw 
 himself on his hands and knees, and taking a bottle from his 
 pocket, began diligently to scrub the floor, saying that he had 
 a wash warranted to efface the worst stains and spots. Now 
 this produced much consternation in the mind of the worthy 
 housekeeper, who instantly commanded him to desist from 
 his operations, striving in vain to make him comprehend 
 that a part of her occupation would be gone, if the stains 
 were removed. 
 
 But to return. This part of the chamber, associated in 
 Mary's mind with the assassination of her favorite and devoted 
 servant, was by her orders partitioned off, so that it now 
 forms a little room by itself So deeply interesting is every 
 thing connected with the sad history of the beauteous Mary, 
 that we felt a melancholy pleasure in visiting her rooms, 
 and in gazing upon the very articles she oft had used. The 
 walls are covered with tapestry embroidered in small pieces, 
 and sewed together very skilfully, the employment of her 
 leisure hours and those of her attendants. 
 
 In spite of the touching associations connected with this 
 ancient palace, I was obliged to hold my handkerchief to my 
 mouth all the time we were there, to keep from laughing 
 right out, at the pompous manner and studied sentences of 
 our female cicerone. It was as good as a book to see her, 
 and to listen to her descriptions of the different objects to 
 which she called our attention. 
 
 We then went into the chapel or abbey as it is generally 
 
LETTERS. 413 
 
 called. It is now in ruins, but a majestic ruin it is, and a 
 sad relic of days gone by. One of the side aisles yet re- 
 mains, but the pillars of the other were overthrown when the 
 roof fell in. It must have been a noble specimen of archi- 
 tecture in its day, the pillars are large, and a series of light 
 Gothic arches runs around the wall. Now all is discolored 
 by time and the dampness of the air, and the glory and 
 beauty of the abbey are fast passing away. 
 
 Many of the Scottish kings and nobles are here buried, 
 among which is Lord Darnley. Some say that Rizzio 
 was buried near the entrance, but it is not certainly known. 
 
 In walking back up High street, we made out, after dili- 
 gent search, to find the house in which John Knox once lived. 
 It is now rapidly going to decay. Beneath the window from 
 which he preached, there is a rude statue of the bold divine. 
 The whole of this part of the town was full of interest to us, 
 as it is so often mentioned by Scott. 
 
 The castle stands at the head of High street, on a lofty 
 hill. It is literally founded on a rock, and is of immense 
 strength. We only visited the part in which the regalia or 
 crown jewels are kept, consisting of the crown, the sword 
 and the sceptre. The crown is set with precious stones, 
 the sword was presented to James IV. by Pope Julian II., 
 and the sceptre is of silver thickly gilded. Besides these, 
 there is a gold collar of the order of the Garter, presented by 
 Elizabeth to James VI., also the badge of the order, some 
 small medals of gold set in diamonds, and an elegant sap- 
 phire ring, the coronation ring of Charles I. These jewels 
 are greatly inferior to those at the Tower in London, but as 
 emblems of the former freedom of Scotland, and as deeply 
 connected with her history, they are interesting. 
 
 We came home through Prince's street, a handsome street, 
 bordered on one side by a public garden. At one end of 
 the street is the Royal Institute, built in the Grecian style, 
 and surrounded by an elegant portico. Near this is to be 
 erected a noble monument to Walter Scott. 
 35* 
 
414 LETTERS. 
 
 The most of the houses here are built with a deep base- 
 ment, and in these basements are many of the shops. The 
 sidewalk is protected from the area in front of the shops by 
 an iron railing ; hence the most of them are at such dis- 
 tances from the footwalk, as to prevent my blind eyes from 
 seeing to good advantage the gewgaws and furbelows, the 
 toys and trinkets, the books and pictures displayed in the 
 windows. 
 
 I can assure you that I was pretty nearly exhausted when 
 I got home after such long rambles. I am not accustomed 
 to go out before breakfast, and I have not been able this 
 evening to take my usual walk. 
 
 Rev. Mr. F. to whom we had a letter from Mr. C, 
 called on us this afternoon. We are to go with him to- 
 morrow to visit places to which we might not easily get ac- 
 cess, except through the aid of a well known citizen. 
 
 Having now nothing more to say, I shall wait till another 
 time when I can again have something new to tell ; and so 
 good bye to you. 
 
 Edinbro', Wednesday eve. 
 My dear Friend : 
 
 I know not how to go to bed, till I have given you the 
 events of this day, interesting as it has been to us, but on 
 looking at the date of this, I find that the history of another 
 day is still unrecorded, so I have a double task, and to ac- 
 complish it in a systematic and proper manner I will begin 
 at once at the right place, and " first and foremost" tell you 
 where we went yesterday, and what we did. At two o'clock 
 we went with Mr. F. to the University, a large and hand- 
 some building, the front adorned with a Doric portico. At 
 either end of the court is another portico, and a covered 
 walk runs around the whole court, elevated a few feet from 
 the ground. The library is a magnificent room, one hun- 
 
LETTERS. 415 
 
 dred and eighty-seven feet long, and has an arched ceiling 
 from fifty to fifty-eight feet high, carved and painted white, 
 and supported by square, fluted pillars. There is a small, 
 but good collection of paintings here. 
 
 We then went to the Royal Infirmary, or hospital, one of 
 the most distinguished places in Edinburgh, as here many of 
 the celebrated Scottish physicians have commenced prac- 
 tising. 
 
 We also went into St. Peter's chapel, where Mr. F. 
 preaches. The Presbyterian, being the established church 
 of Scotland, its meeting-houses are here called churches, 
 and the Episcopal churches take the name of chapels, quite 
 reversing the order of things in England, where all places 
 of worship used by the different denominations of Christians 
 are known only as chapels. St Peter's is a neat little room 
 in the lower story of a large house. We went down a 
 narrow close, and visited St. Paul's chapel, erected in 1687. 
 It is the oldest chapel in Edinburgh, and was formerly pat- 
 ronized by the nobility. 
 
 Behold us now in the Parliament House. In the large 
 hall called the " outer house " the Scottish Parliament met 
 before the union. It is now used for the courts, and when 
 they are in session presents an animated scene. It is a fine 
 hall, and has an arched ceiling of oak well carved and 
 gilded. The windows are Gothic, the one at the end of the 
 hall is of painted glass. 
 
 Adjoining this hall are four small rooms in which sit the 
 Judges and Lords ordinary. There are fifteen judges, five 
 of them sit in separate rooms, and five together in deciding 
 cases. From their decision, there is an appeal to the other 
 five, and from them to the House of Lords. In one of these 
 rooms, Walter Scott was once a clerk. 
 
 Adjoining Parliament House is the Advocates' Library, 
 the largest and best library in Scotland, containing about 
 one hundred and seventy thousand volumes. In the prin- 
 cipal room is a good collection of Spanish books, and a Bible 
 
416 LETTERS. 
 
 written on parchment, and also one of the first Bibles ever 
 printed. 
 
 We returned home with Mr. F. and dined there. His 
 house is situated in George's square, a pretty retired square, 
 where the streets are quite grass-grown. Near by, lived 
 Walter Scott when a boy, and the following story is related 
 of him as occurring at that time. There were several boys 
 who were very fond of running their heads through the iron 
 railing, near the house, but his head was so large it never 
 would go through. It is also said that when he first began 
 to plead, some one said of him, "They say he is a poet, but 
 he has no utterance," meaning eloquence. 
 
 Mr. F. told me one fact in relation to this distinguished 
 man, that I never before heard, that he died insane, and 
 that for three weeks before his death, he had no conscious- 
 ness of any thing whatever. He had overtasked the powers 
 of his mind and his body too, till both gave way under such 
 repeated trials, and he died while yet not an old man. 
 
 This morning we went by coach to Rosslyn, six miles 
 from Edinbro', as they call this town. There was nothing 
 particularly interesting in the ride, the country was hilly, 
 though quite fertile. Reapers were busy at their work, and 
 in one field we counted no less than eighty persons, mostly 
 women. 
 
 We first visited Rosslyn chapel, a beautiful specimen of 
 Gothic architecture. It was built in 1446, and in 1688 was 
 partially destroyed, but was soon after repaired. It is now 
 however somewhat in ruins. It was designed to have 
 been built in the form of a cross, but the head of the cross 
 only was completed. The side aisles are much lower than 
 the nave, and are separated from it by large pillars. One 
 of the pillars is very beautiful. It is fluted, and then has 
 rows of sculptured figures twisted around it. This is called 
 " the 'Prentice's Pillar " from the following circumstance. 
 The master-builder of the chapel had the designs of the 
 pillar from Rome, but after beginning it he distrusted his 
 
LETTERS. 417 
 
 ability to finish it, and so went to Rome to see the one from 
 which the model was taken. In the meantime one of his 
 apprentices finished the pillar after the original manner, 
 which so enraged his master on his return, that he gave him 
 a blow with his mallet and instantly killed him. 
 
 The arches of the aisles are sculptured in bas-reliefs, in 
 illustration of scriptural scenes, which are brought together 
 in rather ludicrous juxtaposition. Thus, there are the 
 proud Pharisee, the Publican with his hand upon his breast, 
 the Lord of the vineyard, and the Devil looking out of an 
 alligator's mouth and grinning at them all. 
 
 There was formerly a private subterranean passage from 
 the chapel to the castle, now closed up. 
 
 The castle, like the chapel, is in ruins. The lower 
 stories are very ancient, but the upper part is of modern 
 date. The walls of the guard-room at the entrance, are six 
 feet thick, and are pierced with many loopholes, from 
 which arrows were sent out on an invading foe. There are 
 two ranges of dungeons, one for state prisoners, and the 
 other for prisoners of war, the last really comfortable rooms. 
 
 We then went to Hawthornden, a mile and a half from 
 the castle, a delightful walk along the banks of the winding 
 Esk. Here were wildness and picturesqueness personified. 
 The stream in many places ran between high banks covered 
 with trees, and often over quite steep rocks, forming mimic 
 cascades. The whole scene was wild and grand and ro- 
 mantic, but I have described so much scenery, that I am 
 quite at a loss for words, and should really be glad to get 
 hold of a dictionary that had in it some other words expres- 
 sive of admiration, than '' elegant," " sublime," " beautiful," 
 " magnificent," " charming," " fine," " noble." 
 
 At Hawthornden, there is a small house upon a steep bank 
 overhanging the Esk. The country in its immediate neigh- 
 borhood is delightful. Through the thick woods upon the 
 banks of the river, you catch many glimpses of the bright 
 waters of the dancing stream, and a little rustic bridge 
 
418 LETTERS. 
 
 thrown across it still higher up, serves to heighten the beauty 
 of the scene. 
 
 This house was the habitation of the poet Drummond, 
 and there is an inscription on the w^alls, that it was repaired 
 by him in 1688. It is a well authenticated fact that Ben 
 Jonson, (" O rare Ben Jonson!") walked from London to 
 visit Drummond, and here lived with him several weeks. Just 
 behind the house there is an excavation in which there is a 
 seat, called Drummond's Seat, where he used to write all his 
 poetry, and a nice quiet place it is. The moss hangs over 
 the roof, trees are all around, and there is naught to disturb 
 the stillness, save the slight rippling of the waters of the 
 Esk. 
 
 Beneath the house are several caverns, the entrance to 
 which was formerly by a deep well. One of them has little 
 boxes cut in the wall, supposed by some to have been the 
 places where papers were concealed in those tim.es of se- 
 dition, heresy and crime, but they looked to us more like 
 having been made for wine bottles. 
 
 Near the house is a large sycamore tree, thirty-one feet 
 round, called Drummond's tree. We walked through the 
 park, down a handsome avenue, till we came to the road, 
 and then went two miles farther to Lasswade, a pretty little 
 village on the Esk, and so named, because a young girl or 
 lass used to wade across the stream, carrying on her back 
 those who could afford to travel by so expensive a way, or 
 who did not like to wade across themselves, there being 
 then no bridge. The scenes about this village are exqui- 
 sitely beautiful. The Esk winds through a thickly wooded 
 glen, while rich pastures and fertile meads are seen beyond. 
 
 When we got to Lasswade, we found that no coach left 
 till six o'clock, so we had to walk two miles farther to Dal- 
 keith, from which there is a rail-road here. At Dalkeith are 
 coal mines, (you may be well assured we did not stop to visit 
 them), and the road was first built merely for conveying the 
 coal to Edinburgh, but now passenger cars are put on, 
 
LETTERS. 419 
 
 though no steam is used. I came home most thoroughly 
 tired out, though well pleased with our day's journey, having 
 walked at least eight miles while absent ; but after a good 
 dinner (we dine at six) I felt so wonderfully refreshed, that 
 I ventured out again. 
 
 We walked along Prince's Street, and I was much struck 
 with the sight presented by the old town. As long ago as I 
 studied Morse's Geography, I learnt that in Edinburgh there 
 were houses fourteen stories high, and I have made it a 
 matter of interest every time I walked in the old town, to 
 count the stories of the highest houses. I have not yet 
 found any having more than eleven, eight and ten are 
 about the ordinary number. This evening every story being 
 lit, the houses presented a fine scene, the highest lights 
 looking like stars in the sky. 
 
 At Edinburgh, as in all large towns, there are many ap- 
 pointments "to the Queen." It seems that in olden times, 
 when any particular tradesmen were patronized by the royal 
 family, they were exempted from taxes, though this is far 
 from being the case now. In addition to the trades and 
 occupations I have already mentioned, I have seen " music 
 sellers," " house painters and decorators," and last and 
 queerest of all, *' brass founders and gas fitters to her 
 Majesty." 
 
 One new thing we have seen here, porters in every street 
 having leather straps around their waists, ever ready to carry 
 luggage, and I have seen one take a large trunk, fasten a 
 rope around it, and then with this rope over his head, 
 walk some distance. How thick and hard their heads 
 must be. 
 
 I should judge that the people of this goodly town are 
 apt to gather in crowds at any little thing, more so than in 
 any city we have visited. The other day I saw an immense 
 crowd filling up the street, and moving along with measured 
 step and slow, and I, of course, had some little curios- 
 ity myself to know what was going on. After a little inter- 
 
420 LETTERS. 
 
 val of suspense, I found they were following a woman, who 
 had had a fit in the street. This morning we saw another 
 crowd around some " rail carriages," exhibited in one of 
 the streets. 
 
 One sign in Edinburgh perplexed me not a little, having 
 the word *' flesher " on it, and what it could mean I could 
 not at first tell. At length after guessing and thinking, and 
 looking at the articles displayed for sale in the shops bear- 
 ing the peculiar sign, I discovered that it meant butcher. 
 
 I have been surprised to-day to hear how great are the 
 taxes in this town, and indeed I have heard something quite 
 new to me in the way of taxes, that here, and I suppose it 
 is the same throughout Great Britain, they are taxed for the 
 blessed light of heaven ; that is, each house is taxed for 
 light in proportion to the number of windows it has. Mrs. 
 E. where we are, pays seven pounds fourteen shillings 
 a year for this one tax. So it is quite an object to build 
 houses with as few windows as possible. Mrs. E. pays 
 seventy pounds a year for rent, and her taxes amount to 
 thirty more. Is it not an expensive country to live in ? 
 
 We have now, as the tourists say, " done up " Edin- 
 burgh, and to-morrow we start for the Highlands. So 
 now adieu. 
 
 Ballock, Friday eve. 
 My dearest F. : 
 
 We left Edinbro' yesterday morning in an omnibus for 
 Leith, the seaport for the metropolis, duite a long pier is 
 built out for ships and steamers, and each one of us had to 
 pay two pence as toll before going on it to reach our boat. 
 Thus Great Britain taxes foreigners to pay for her public 
 works and public improvements. 
 
 We had a pleasant sail to Sterling, though indeed I do 
 not think it was so very pleasant, as it rained so fast at one 
 
LETTERS. 421 
 
 time that I was obliged to go below. I found the scenery 
 pleasant, however, if the weather was not. Whilst in the 
 Frith we were among lofty hills, but when we got into the 
 river Forth, the land became level, though the horizon was 
 bounded by high hills, I never saw so winding a river as 
 the Forth. We were in the neighborhood of Stirling an 
 hour, and yet we seemed in all that time to advance but 
 little. 
 
 There is nothing particularly interesting at Stirling ex- 
 cept its castle. The streets are dirty, and the houses old 
 and ill looking. The castle is situated on a high hill, and 
 of itself is ordinary, but connected as it is with many of the 
 most stirring scenes Scotland ever witnessed, it is interest- 
 ing. From the eminence on which it stands, there is a 
 splendid view. On the north are the hills called the Ochiel, 
 in the plains below the castle the Forth bends and turns so 
 beautifully, that you can scarcely imagine it to be but one 
 river. Around, the country is rich, varied with meadows 
 and woods and groves, and dotted with handsome country 
 seats. Below lies the ancient town of Stirling, while on 
 the west is the vale of Menteith, bounded by the shadowy 
 hills of the Highlands. I do not know when I have seen a 
 grander sight. 
 
 The troops stationed at Stirling had on the far-famed 
 Highland costume. It consists of a red short coat, below 
 which is a " kirtle," composed of plaid plaited in folds, and 
 reaching half way to the knee. The stockings are red and 
 white plaid, and are tied at the top with red ribbon ; the 
 rest of the leg to the kirtle is quite bare. Rather cool for 
 such a climate as this. 
 
 And now we are once more seated on top of a coach, 
 and in this, our favorite way of travelling, go to Callender, 
 sixteen miles from Stirling. Our road at first was through 
 a plain, the greatest part of which was once a morass, now 
 turned into fruitful fields. Then we came into a hilly coun- 
 try, and the distant range of the Grampian hills seemed 
 36 
 
422 LETTERS. 
 
 nearer and nearer, till their shadowy outlines assumed more 
 distinct and substantial forms. Some parts of the way the 
 the scenery was exceedingly grand, our road passing through 
 woods, between the trees of which we saw the quickly 
 flowing Teith. We passed the little village of Doune, in 
 which in a thick copse are the ruins of an old castle, said 
 to have been once inhabited by dueen Margaret and the 
 gentle Mary Stuart. 
 
 We have rarely had a more interesting day during our 
 travels than this day ; there has been almost too much of 
 interest to be brought into the short space of ten hours. 
 We left Callender this morning quite early, and rode ten 
 miles in what is here called a " drosky," a sort of double 
 buggy. The ride was interesting in the extreme, the 
 country wild and grand. We soon reached a little stream 
 which runs out of Loch Venachar. It was here that Fitz 
 James and Roderick Dhu fought. 
 
 Loch Venachar is four miles in length, and we rode along 
 its margin for some time. It was a delicious morning, that 
 " morning among the hills." From the little cottages scat- 
 tered through the country, the blue smoke curled up, and 
 from the numerous mountain peaks, the grey mists rose 
 gradually, and the lake lay quiet and placid, its clear waters 
 dimpled by the sunbeams. It was a lovely picture. Across 
 the lake, steep mountains ascended from its very margin, 
 while on our side the hills rose up more gently, leaving be- 
 tween them and the lake a road sufficiently wide for our 
 carriage. 
 
 At the north end of Venachar is Lanrickmead, the mus- 
 tering place of Clan Alpine. A half mile farther on is 
 Loch Achray.' Between the two lakes lies the little village 
 of Duncraggan, the houses of which 
 
 " Peep like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 
 Half hidden in ihe copse so green." 
 
 Loch Achray is a small, but pretty lake. We rode along 
 its margin, which was fringed with the willow and birch 
 
LETTERS. 423 
 
 and numerous other trees and shrubs. I never saw a more 
 beautiful reflection than that of the surrounding mountains 
 in this lake, every rock and plant being distinctly seen. 
 
 After leaving Loch Achray we came into the mountain 
 pass, called the Trosachs, meaning *' bristly territory," ex- 
 tending about a mile in length. I cannot better describe 
 this wild pass, than in the words of him who has caused 
 this part of the country, hitherto supposed to be beyond the 
 reach of mortals, to be well known, and visited every year 
 by thousands. 
 
 " High on the south huge Benvenue 
 Down on the lake in masses threw, 
 Crags, knolls and mounds confusedly hurl'd, 
 The fragments of an earlier world, 
 A wildering forest feathered o'er 
 His ruined sides and summits hoar, 
 While on the north through middle air 
 Benan heaved high his forehead bare." 
 
 The " ruined side and summit hoar," however, are not 
 now " feathered o'er" by " a wildering forest," as most cf 
 the trees are gone, but in other respects the description is 
 true to nature. It is indeed a wild pass, and as we rode 
 through thick trees and bushes, 1 often heard beneath 
 them the gurgling of water, though I could scarcely see 
 whence the sound proceeded, and as I looked up to the 
 mountains that towered above us, I almost shuddered, 
 and I glanced quickly around to see that no foe was lurk- 
 ing near us. It was in the midst of this pass that Fitz 
 James lost his " gallant grey," when he uttered that simple 
 and touching lament, 
 
 " I little thought when first thy rein, 
 I slacked upon the banks of Seine, 
 That highland eagle e'er should feed 
 On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ; 
 Woe worth the chase ! woe worth the day ! 
 That cost thy life, my gallant grey ! " 
 
 Soon after we got through the Trosachs, we came sud- 
 
424 LETTERS. 
 
 denly upon Loch Katrine, not as when it first appeared to 
 the knight, 
 
 " Where gleaming with the setting sun, 
 One burnished sheet of living gold, 
 Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled ; " 
 
 but soft and still, the sunbeams scarcely reaching the water, 
 merely lighting up the mountain tops, leaving the vales in 
 deep shadow. The boatmen not having arrived, we walked 
 about, drinking in the calm beauty of the scene. Oh ! for 
 the poet's power, of " words that burn," to describe the glo- 
 ries of that fair siaht. I shall never forget it. 
 
 Soon a large boat rowed by five men, and carrying nearly 
 thirty persons, was slowly moving o'er the still waters, just 
 breaking the surface into small ripples, the music of which 
 well suited a scene " so lovely sure as this." 
 
 Loch Katrine is ten miles long, and of irregular width, 
 the widest part being about two miles across. It is encircled 
 by lofty mountains, some bare and jagged and rocky, and 
 others green and bright, though the whole scenery is of a 
 wild cast. All along the borders of the lake there are but 
 two or three houses, which circumstance adds greatly to the 
 wildness and loneliness of the scene. Near the eastern shore 
 is a small island covered with trees, called "The Lady's 
 Island," and here Ellen first appeared to the stranger 
 knight as, 
 
 " From underneath an aged oak, 
 That slanted from the islet rock, 
 A damsel, guider of its way, 
 A little skiff slid to the bay." 
 
 On the opposite side is " the cave of the goblin," indi- 
 cated by a gash in the mountain side. There are many 
 echoes among these mountains, each hill taking up the cry 
 as though "it loved to prolong" the not " gentle " soimd 
 made by our boatmen. 
 
 I can say no more of this lake ; if you want a good de- 
 scription of it, read Scott's " Lady of the Lake." One of 
 
LETTERS. 425 
 
 our boatmen repeated a great part of this inimitable poem 
 for the benefit of those who did not, like me, have a sixpenny 
 copy to refer to. 
 
 From Loch Katrine to Loch Lomond, is a mountain pass 
 five miles in length. Can you believe it, when I tell you 
 that after my melancholy associations with horseback riding, 
 I dared to mount a highland pony as bravely as any body, 
 and to trot off through the wild mountain pass, up hill and 
 down, and fording streams, having a man only to guide my 
 pony when we reached a very bad place ? Only think how 
 courageous I am growing. And you would have smiled to 
 have seen our party. There were about twenty persons that 
 were mounted either on horses or ponies, besides several 
 gentlemen and one or two ladies who walked. I should 
 have preferred walking myself, but I was afraid of getting 
 heated, as I had on a thick travelling dress. I fancy it was 
 rather a picturesque sight, to see us winding around through 
 that mountain defile, two or three brave ones cantering on 
 ahead, then here and there a group keeping closely together, 
 while a little way back came some solitary individual trying 
 in vain, heels, whip, and voice, to make his steed go faster 
 than a slow walk. Then the men who had the care of the 
 horses and ponies came straggling along, their tartan plaids 
 thrown over their shoulders, now conversing together in 
 their guttural Gaelic, now springing forward to lead a horse 
 or pony over a rocky place. Have I said any thing before 
 to you about those plaids, which every inhabitant of this 
 northern region wears, men women and children ? If I 
 have not, let me say a little about them. They are thick 
 and long, of different colors, and are carried in mild and 
 pleasant weather over one shoulder, and across the back, 
 and then brought round under the arm. Clothed with these, 
 the shepherd goes forth to watch his flocks, the workman to 
 his daily labor, the child to his school or play, and the man 
 of business to his buying and selling and getting gain. The 
 women and children here go barefoot the most of the time, 
 36* 
 
426 LETTERS. 
 
 often carrying their shoes and stockings in a little bundle, or 
 or else slung over their shoulders. 
 
 But I must hurry on, for I have much yet to say, and but 
 little time to say it in, and so I come back to my pony ride 
 through the mountain pass. 
 
 I really took much pleasure in that ride, and I take to 
 myself great credit for venturing to make my pony go 
 through the rocky beds of little streams, without even feel- 
 ing afraid. The mountains around us were rugged and bare, 
 and in a little hollow among them lay Loch Arklet, a pretty 
 little lake. I had a little more time to look about me than 
 many of our party, for to tell you the truth, I had much 
 difficulty in making my pony go out of a walk. 
 
 I coaxed, threatened, and scolded, but to no purpose ; at 
 last I told its owner that it did not understand English, but 
 he insisted upon it that it did. Any way " go along " and 
 " get up," produced not the slightest impression. I then 
 tried French, not knowing but that it might have come 
 from " the banks of Seine " with the " gallant grey," but with 
 no better success. I resorted to Scotch, and screamed out 
 with as broad an accent as I could summon to my aid, 
 " gang alang wi ye," but still plod, plod, went the beast. 
 I might have ventured Latin, but unfortunately I could not 
 think of the right word, and I was about giving up in 
 despair, when suddenly I caught a sound from some one 
 behind me, and instantly re-echoed it, shouting out " gie 
 up," and the magical words produced the desired effect. 
 
 Near the end of the pass, we saw the ruins of Invers- 
 naid Fort, erected in 1713, to check the Mac Gregors. 
 Here Gen. Wolfe once resided. Near the fort are a few 
 green mounds, where sleep the brave ones who perished 
 here. 
 
 Then we came in sight of Loch Lomond, and a fairer 
 scene has seldom greeted mortal eyes. In unrivalled love- 
 liness lay the lake, protected by its guardian mountains. 
 We descended by a steep and stony path. Most of the 
 
LETTERS. 427 
 
 party dismounted, but summoning a guide to my aid, I kept 
 my seat, and safely reached the margin of the lake without 
 even a groan. On our way down we passed a cascade, 
 which jumps by several leaps from a mountain top into the 
 lake. Wordsworth in his " Highland Girl " makes mention 
 of it. 
 
 We went on board a small steamboat, and sailed for more 
 than three hours on the lake. I need not say we enjoyed it 
 much. How could it be otherwise ? With the sun sailing 
 in unclouded majesty over our heads, with the bright waters 
 and beautiful islands of Loch Lomond around us, could we 
 fail being pleased 1 
 
 This lake is twenty-three miles long. At the northern 
 extremity it is surrounded by high mountains, rocky and 
 stern, but at its southern, the scenery becomes softer, the 
 hills slope gradually away, the banks are more fertile, and 
 abound with villas and parks. It is a glorious scene to sail 
 on that beautiful lake, to look around on the mountains lift- 
 ing their lofty summits to the skies, to see reflected in the 
 clear waters, the trees and shrubs of the fair islands. All this 
 far surpasses my feeble powers of description, already over- 
 tasked, and therefore I leave the subject, saying only in ad- 
 dition, that for all this pleasure and delight, we had to pay 
 but sixpence each, so we left the boat with unmingled satis- 
 faction. 
 
 We did not choose to go to Glasgow this evening, as in 
 so doing we should have no chance to see the scenery of the 
 Clyde, so we are to stop here to night. Ballock is a little 
 village at the southern extremity of Loch Lomond, where 
 the river Leven runs out of it. While waiting for our din- 
 ner we walked along the banks of the river, and saw the 
 light play over the lake, as the sun faded away behind the 
 hills. How grand and still all nature seemed, as thouo-h 
 God had proclaimed an universal Sabbath, and beasts and 
 birds hushed themselves, that they might not mar the beauty 
 and quiet of the scene. 
 
428 LETTERS. 
 
 And now the evening wanes apace, and tired and sleepy, 
 I close this letter. 
 
 Glasgow, Sept. 20. 
 Mv DEAR P. : 
 
 You may well imagine with what eagerness on arriving 
 here, we went to the post-office, having directed our banker 
 at Liverpool to send hither our letters which would come by 
 the last steamer. Knowing that she was in, we awaited 
 with beating hearts the answer to our question of " any 
 letter ? " To our great joy a large package was handed to 
 us, on opening which we found six letters, five from home, 
 and one from Mr. D., informing us that he should sail for 
 the United States in the packet ship New York the seventh 
 of October, and wishing us to be his companions. We im- 
 mediately wrote back to him, giving the time when we 
 should in all probability be in Liverpool, and requesting 
 him to meet us there. How pleasant it will be to have him 
 again with us. 
 
 And now to return to Ballock, or rather to leave it, which 
 we did on Saturday morning in an omnibus for Dumbarton, 
 situated on the Leven, at its juncture with the Clyde. The 
 principal object of note is its castle, built on high hills, 
 overlooking both rivers. The hills are conical, and on 
 them, and between them, the castle or rather the fortifica- 
 tions are built. The highest of the two peaks is called 
 Wallace's seat, because previous to his being sent to Eng- 
 land, he was confined there. 
 
 At Dumbarton we took a steamer for this place. It is 
 quite a bad passage at the juncture of the two rivers, and 
 twice we got aground. When we first entered upon the 
 Clyde it was exceedingly broad, more like a lake than a 
 river. It was sheltered by high mountains, but as we came 
 farther along, the mountains gradually diminished, the river 
 
LETTERS. 429 
 
 became narrower, the banks lower and more verdant, beau- 
 tiful meadows took the place of barren fields, and all along 
 the river side were beautiful country seats, with charming 
 parks. 
 
 We like this place very much thus far. The streets are 
 generally clean and regular, and lined with handsome 
 houses. The public buildings are in very good taste. The 
 Royal Exchange is a splendid edifice. Its front is adorned 
 by a colonnade, having a double row of fluted Corinthian pil- 
 lars. In one part of the building there is a reading-room one 
 hundred feet long. Back of the Exchange is the Royal 
 Bank built in the Grecian style of architecture. All around 
 the Exchange, the houses are built in a handsome and uni- 
 form manner. 
 
 St. George's square is surrounded by noble buildings. In 
 the centre of the square there is a monument to Scott, in 
 the form of a Doric column, eighty feet high, surmounted by 
 a colossal statue of the " magician of the north," the 
 figure half enveloped in a tartan plaid. At a little distance 
 is a bronze statue of Sir John Moore, by Flaxman, and at 
 one of the corners of the square, a stately figure repre- 
 senting Watt. 
 
 There is a very pretty arcade leading from Argyle into 
 Buchanan street. It is narrow, is lit from the top, and is 
 lined with handsome shops. 
 
 On Saturday evening the streets were crowded. I sat at 
 my window in the Argyle House, and looked out upon the 
 busy people hurrying to and fro, till I almost fancied I was 
 at home amongst the crowds which throng our streets on 
 some great day. 
 
 Yesterday morning we went to hear the celebrated Dr. 
 Wardlaw, who preached on the duties of a king, not a re- 
 markably interesting subject to us republicans, nor a very 
 edifying one to the congregation at large, seeing that there 
 was not one person present who had any thing to do with 
 king-making. Over the pulpit was a great sounding board, 
 
490 LETTERS. 
 
 reminding me of some of our old-fashioned meeting-houses. 
 In a little box beneath the pulpit, sat a man whose principal 
 office it seemed to be, was to set the tunes. He hung out a 
 little yellow sign, on which was painted the name of the 
 tune he wished sung. And such singing I never before 
 heard ! No one had the slightest regard for time, each 
 seeming ambitious to outstrip and outsing the other. Every 
 man, woman, and child in the congregation I believe sang, 
 even your humble correspondent. To be sure I did not 
 know the tunes, but I fancied that it could not make the 
 slightest difference, as one discord more would hardly be 
 noticed. 
 
 At the door of the church stood a man by an enormous 
 plate to receive contributions, which consisted of all pieces 
 of money from a half-penny to a sovereign and bank notes. 
 There was the same custom at Surrey Chapel, London, and 
 at the church we attended in Edinburgh. 
 
 This morning we took a walk in the old part of the 
 town, the houses of which are indeed old and decaying. 
 There is a fine ancient Cathedral, looking as though it 
 could not stand many years longer. Around it is the 
 churchyard, and back of it, on a high hill, a new cemetery, 
 in which is a monument to John Knox. Near the Cathe- 
 dral is the Infirmary, a large and quite a handsome building. 
 
 It seems to me that never in all my life, have I seen so 
 many miserable, dirty, and wretched looking beings, as I have 
 seen in this town. Talk about the swarms of beggars on the 
 continent, they look clean, nice, and well, compared with 
 these. Yet here there is no begging, for that is not allowed, 
 for if any one is caught asking alms, he is hurried at once 
 to the poor-house, which is indeed " poor " in every sense 
 of the word. Many women and children have matches, pins, 
 needles, tapes, thread, &lc., to sell, and under the plea of 
 bargaining, contrive to tell you many a pitiful story. Here 
 poor people look as though they were in the very last stages 
 of poverty and wretchedness. Such rags, such tattered 
 
LETTERS. 431 
 
 garments, I never before conceived of, and almost all were 
 without shoe or stocking, though the weather is quite cool. 
 I witnessed a little scene this morning, to me truly painful. 
 A dirty looking woman, without any nose, was trying to 
 sell a pair of old shoes to a companion, equally dirty and 
 poverty stricken. As she named her price, a sixpence, the 
 poor purchaser looked up at her with such a beseeching, 
 woe-begone face, and repeated "a sixpence I " in such a 
 a tone, as though to buy the shoes would take the last penny 
 she had in the world, that I was on the point of tellino- her 
 if she would go to my room with me, I would give her a 
 pair I was just casting off, but I finally passed on, leaving 
 them to conclude their own bargains. 
 
 I cannot but think that there is something radically wrong 
 and defective in a government where there is so much mis- 
 ery in the lower classes. Sometimes I feel inclined to blame 
 Victoria, and think if she would give up some of her state 
 and costly luxuries and useless expenses, the condition of 
 the poor might be somewhat ameliorated ; but after all she is 
 but a puppet in the hands of her ministers, and a monarch- 
 ical government soon loses its hold upon the minds of the 
 people, when its pomp and parade are diminished. Yet 
 surely something might be devised among so many wise 
 statesmen, to better the condition of the lower classes. For 
 my own part, I can only say, that whatever may be the in- 
 herent evils of a democracy, I prefer them to the glaring 
 defects of a monarchical system of government. But per- 
 haps you will think that I am meddling with what does not 
 concern me, and that it would be more appropriate for my 
 sex to stay at home and darn their husbands' and fathers' 
 stockings and leave the government of the country to wiser 
 heads, so I will have the grace to forbear inflicting upon you 
 any more of my crude sentiments on these subjects ; so good 
 bye to you and to them. 
 
43d LETTERS. 
 
 Londonderry, Wednesday morn. 
 My dearest: 
 
 We are now in Ireland, " poor, oppressed, down-trodden 
 Ireland," as she is pathetically called, though as yet I have 
 seen no more to warrant me in coming to such a conclusion, 
 than I have in other parts of Great Britain. 
 
 We left Glasgow Monday afternoon in the Londonderry 
 steamer. We had a great many steerage passengers, and it 
 was really touching to see some of them come on board, 
 wringing the hand of a dear friend, and faltering out 
 *' God's blessing upon you," as the last parting kiss was im- 
 printed. No one was allowed to come on board without 
 presenting his ticket, not even a husband permitted to see 
 his wife and child safely on board, unless he was going him- 
 self One young woman came into the boat, followed by a 
 man carrying her child. He was rudely thrust back, how- 
 ever, no attention being paid to his assertion that he did 
 not wish to go off, only to deposit the child with its mother. 
 During the altercation, some of the hands began to raise 
 the plank, then the woman screamed out, " Oh, give me 
 my child," and it was roughly handed to her with an oath, 
 the poor woman receiving the little one with tears and 
 caresses. Multitudes stood on the shore as we left, the 
 women crying, and making a " desperate fuss," and wiping 
 their eyes and noses with their aprons, shawls, cloaks, any 
 thing except handkerchiefs, which I suspect to be a rare 
 commodity with them. 
 
 These steerage passengers are mostly Irish, who go over 
 to Scotland to work during the harvest. That being over, 
 they return once more to the Emerald Isle. The captain 
 told J. that last week he took over at one trip more than 
 thirteen hundred. 
 
 We went down the river to Dumbarton, and after leaving 
 that place, the banks again grew hilly, the river expanding 
 till it became a frith. At Greenock, the port for Glasgow, 
 
LETTERS. 433 
 
 there- is a handsome Custom-house, onfi of the noblest 
 buildings in Scotland. 
 
 We dined on board. The captain asked a blessing, and 
 gave thanks after eating, though immediately afterward 
 called for his whiskey punch, inviting us to partake with him, 
 which honor we politely declined; and I must confess I 
 should have felt a little safer in crossing the sea at night, 
 had I seen him decline also, though I saw nothing in him 
 afterward that would lead one to imagine that he was at all 
 under the effect of liquor. The Scotch are particularly ob- 
 servant of the custom of asking a blessing at table, our land- 
 ladies in London and Edinburgh, (both Scotchwomen,) 
 always performing this duty themselves, though there were 
 several gentlemen at the table. 
 
 But to return to our steamboat. We had quite a favor- 
 able passage across to Ireland, the sea being not very rough. 
 I slept soundly till about four o'clock in the morning, when 
 we were called to go ashore at Port Rush, ten miles from 
 Giant's Causeway. As soon as we reached the inn, we 
 threw ourselves on a bed and slept till seven o'clock. iVfter 
 breakfast we set out for the Giant's Causeway, in what is 
 here called " a jaunting car," and a queer looking vehicle 
 it is too. It is square and small, the wheels being entirely 
 under the body, and has two seats, facing the sides of the 
 road. Below the seat, is a little board for the feet. This 
 "concern" will carry but four persons, the space between 
 the two seats beincr for the lucrgraore. If the car is full, the 
 driver mounts a high seat, if not he takes one of the side 
 seats. I have been thus particular in describing to you this 
 carriage, because it is the one universally used in this part 
 of Ireland. 
 
 Port Rush is on a small promontory, so that it has the 
 sea on three sides of it. Our road to the Causeway was 
 along the coast, and we had the sea in full view, broken only 
 by a few rocks, and a rocky island at a little distance from 
 the shore. The country was hilly and rather barren, though 
 37 
 
434 LETTERS. 
 
 we saw some good fields of wheat, oats and potatoes. A 
 young fellow ran for several miles by the side of the car, 
 entreating us to take him as a guide, but our innkeeper told 
 us not to take any one we met, but to wait till we got there, 
 and then our driver would select one for us. But when we 
 were about half way, we met the very one he had intended 
 to choose for us, so he got in or rather on, and rode with 
 us, the other fellow still running by our side. 
 
 We passed the ruins of an old castle by name Dunluce, 
 and stopped to visit it. It stands on a rock overhanging the 
 sea, and it must have been of amazing strength, for even 
 now its walls firmly stand, though more than two centuries 
 have rolled away since it has been inhabited, and no one 
 knows when it was erected. The foundations, washed as 
 they are by the restless waves, are now beginning to give 
 way, and every year adds, though almost insensibly, to the 
 ravages made by the invading foe. So long and so furiously 
 has the sea beaten upon the rock, that it has worn quite a 
 cavern through it. From these ruins are some commanding 
 views of the sea, and as you look along the coast, you will 
 see many arches and caverns hollowed out by the constant 
 surging of the waves, till the broad headlands which rise 
 above the Causeway bound the view. In front there is no 
 limit to the vision, but as far as the eye can reach, is " the 
 sea, the deep green sea." I stood for some time and listened 
 to its beatings against " the rock-bound coast," for I almost 
 fancied its hoarse tones brought me tidings from niy father- 
 land. 
 
 At this place our runner left us, saying that if we would 
 give him a trifle, he would go back and bother us no more ! 
 A considerate youth truly ! 
 
 We passed the river Bush, a stream famous for trout and 
 salmon, on the banks of which was a little village, whose 
 white-washed houses looked neat and pretty. A little 
 farther on was a fort to protect this part of the coast, and a 
 little way beyond, we came to a village where we left our car, 
 
LETTERS. 435 
 
 and accompanied by our guide, and some half dozen ragged 
 men and boys, who had minerals to sell, we went to the 
 beach, where we took a boat and visited a cave, seemingly 
 cut out of the solid rock, to which there is no entrance, ex- 
 cept by the sea. We rowed in a little distance, that we 
 might form some idea of the scene. Indeed no one can 
 penetrate far from the opening without torches. This 
 cavern is six hundred and sixty feet long, and ninety high, 
 and is one of the grandest things of the kind I ever saw. 
 The solid sides look well able to defy the never quiet sea. 
 The lower part of the rocks is of the most beautiful tints, 
 red, purple and green. Around their base float many 
 colored weeds, their bright hues reflected in the clear 
 waters below. How sublime and grand is the scene ! I 
 could almost fancy this cave to be a temple made by God 
 that the sea might sound His praise. I pity the man who 
 can visit such scenes like this, and not see the hand of God ; 
 who cannot say, 
 
 " Where, as to shame the temples decked 
 By skill of earthly architect, 
 Nature herself, it seemed, wou'd raise 
 A minster to her Maker's praise ! 
 Not for a meaner use ascend 
 Her columns, or her arches bend, 
 Nor of a theme less solemn tells 
 That mighty surge that ebbs and swells ; 
 And still between each awful pause, 
 From the high vault an answer draws, 
 In varied tone prolonged and high, 
 That mocks the organ's melody. 
 Nature's voice might seem to say, 
 ' Well hast thou done, frail child of clay ! 
 Thy humble powers, that stately shrine 
 Tasked high and hard, but witness mine.' " 
 
 After leaving the cave we sailed along the coast till J. 
 grew sick, and so we were forced to land. Then we visited 
 the Giant's Causeway, and here began our wonder, for in 
 all the differing forms that nature wears, I never saw any 
 
v436 LETTERS. 
 
 thing to equal this. Tradition says that this causeway or 
 pavement was laid by a giant, who in olden times attempted 
 in this way to make a path across the sea, but after laying 
 down all these stones, and finding that the farther he went 
 out into the sea, the deeper it became, he gave up in de- 
 spair. Basaltic rocks of which this causeway is a part, ex- 
 tend for three miles along the coast, now rising up into bold 
 headlands, now into pillars, resembling in size and shape 
 the pipes of an organ. The "pavement" is formed by 
 large stones of different shapes, so firmly imbedded, and yet 
 each so separate, that not even water can penetrate between 
 them. Some have three sides, others vary from six to nine, 
 those with nine sides being the most rare, those with six the 
 most common. The key-stone has six sides, in which there 
 is not the variation of an eighth of an inch, and they are 
 finished off as smoothly as though cut by a chisel, and in- 
 deed I doubt if any human hand or instrument could have 
 arranged so symmetrically these hundreds of stones. No 
 one could have done it, save the Great Architect, the Master 
 Workman of the universe. His hand alone could have 
 framed these wonders. And as I looked on this, creation's 
 marvel, my mind was lost in awe at the vast power of Him 
 who spoke such objects into being. 
 
 These stones and pillars are of different heights, some 
 being even thirty or forty feet high. Some have convex 
 tops, others concave, but we found it easy to walk over all. 
 Some of the pillars are more than five feet in circumference. 
 
 It is wonderful, I repeat, to see this multitude of stones 
 of different forms so well arranged that the blade of a knife 
 cannot penetrate them, and the more we gaze upon such a 
 phenomenon, the more are we lost in amazement at the 
 object for which such a wonder was created, and after all our 
 conjectures, we can only suppose it was a new proof of the 
 power of Him with whom " all things are possible." 
 
 In one place these pillars are so arranged as to form a 
 chair, two or three rising up for the back, one at each side 
 
LETTERS. 437 
 
 for the arms, one lower for the seat, and one lower yet, serv- 
 ing as a footstool. Here, it is said, if any unmarried lady 
 will seat herself a while, and wish for a lover, that she will 
 be married before a twelvemonth has passed. Ah ! if this 
 were generally known throughoutthe world, what a flock in o- 
 of single sisters would there be to the Giant's Causeway ! 
 
 In an opening among these stones, is a good spring of 
 water, named the Giant's Well, and a miniature bay formed 
 by the sea coming up between some rocks, is called his basin, 
 where, it is said, he washed his face and hands every morn- 
 ing and evening. 
 
 Can I say more about this wonder of the world ? Much 
 there is that might be said, but ray limited powers leave me 
 no more descriptive words, and so I turn away from the 
 Giant's Causeway. 
 
 As we returned to the village, we were still followed by 
 the men and boys, all eager to sell their specimens of stones, 
 and coming down wonderfully in their prices from two 
 shillings a box to a sixpence. Just before we got to our 
 car, we met a man in a cart, who stopped directly in the 
 middle of the road, saying, " I ax yer honors' pardon, but 
 I'll stop the baste, till ye are by," which certainly was polite 
 in him, only he stopped at just the place, where we were 
 obliged to step out of the path ankle deep in mud to get by. 
 
 Instead of going back to Port Rush we went to Coleraine, 
 to take the Londonderry coach. The country was more 
 fertile, and its features more softened, though still many 
 barren spots were seen. At Coleraine, finding the coach 
 did not go till nine, we were forced to take a cur, which 
 being entirely without cover, was by no means a pleasant 
 vehicle for a thirty miles' ride, particularly as there was a 
 prospect of rain, but we could not think of hurrying through 
 the country by night, so we decided for the car. 
 
 After a miserable dinner (and by the way the first poor 
 dinner we have had since arriving in England) we started 
 for this place, every where about here called *' Derry." 
 37* 
 
438 LETTERS. 
 
 The road was excellent, and what was surprising to us after 
 riding in the sister isles, there was no toll. The country 
 was barren. Peat bogs actually darkened the ground. Be- 
 fore every house we passed, there was a large pile of peat, 
 laid up for the winter's fuel. The houses were of stone, 
 most of them plastered over ; they were low with thatched 
 roofs, and had small windows, through which and the open 
 doors, we saw that the floor was of stone or earth. Some 
 were neater than others, though few looked much worse 
 than the common cottages of an English village. The 
 people were poorly clothed, yet all seemed industriously en- 
 gaged in the fields or in the peat bogs. 
 
 For an hour before dark we were in sight of the river 
 Foyle, whose meanderings through the fields gave beauty to 
 the scene. 
 
 Soon after leaving Coleraine, some part of the harness 
 gave way, and the horse became restive. J. jumped off, 
 calling me to do the same, but I was so afraid of disarrang- 
 ing my minerals, of which I had a choice collection in my 
 lap, that I stopped to gather up all my duds before I sprang 
 from my seat. I was well laughed at for so deliberately 
 tucking my boxes of stones under my arms before I would 
 jump, but the car was so low, I knew 1 could not fall far 
 even if I was thrown from it. 
 
 These jaunting cars are bad things for travellers, as they 
 allow you to see but one side of the road at a time, which 
 made me hazard the following conundrum : " Why is a 
 jaunting car like prejudice? " I give you till I get home to 
 find it out. 
 
 We have spent this morning in looking about this place, 
 a small town on the Foyle, here quite a wide river. There 
 is little shipping here. The old town is surrounded by a 
 wall so wide at the top, that carriages might pass if they 
 could but get up there. It forms a fine promenade, and 
 from it we obtained first-rate views of the town and its 
 environs. A lofty pillar is here erected to Rev. George 
 
LETTERS. 439 
 
 Walker, who assisted in defending the town, in the memor- 
 able siege of Derry, in 1688. 
 
 Quite as much of the present town of Derry is built with- 
 out the walls as within. In the old town, there are a ca- 
 thedral, a venerable specimen of the true Gothic style, and 
 a large castle, now used as a prison, the place of execution 
 being a little balcony in front of some of the windows of the 
 second story. The houses are ordinary looking, mostly 
 built of brick. 
 
 But it is time for us to start for Dublin, and I must leave 
 you in a hurry, scarcely having time sufficient to say fare- 
 well. 
 
 Dublin, Saturday eve. 
 Dear P. : 
 
 Our journey here occupied us two days. We might 
 have come through in shorter time, had we chosen to hurry 
 on, but we did not wish to be out during the night, for we 
 have so little time for our journey in Ireland, that we like 
 to see as much of the country as possible. On the whole 
 the journey here was pleasant, though fatiguing. Yesterday 
 we rode on the top of the coach for fifteen hours, getting 
 off only for a half hour in all that time. I was excessively 
 fatigued when I arrived here, so much so that I could 
 scarcely sit up long enough to have my room made ready for 
 me. The weather too was cold, uncomfortably so ; for with 
 my thick travelling dress, blanket shawl and cloak, I could not 
 keep warm. I would gladly have taken an inside seat, even 
 at the risk of losing sight of the country, had there been 
 any room for me, a gentleman Vv'ith his family occupying 
 the whole of the interior. Now be not surprised at the 
 idea of a gentleman having an inside seat, while a lady is 
 exposed to the cold and the rain on the outside. I know 
 that in our country such a thing would be looked upon as 
 
440 LETTERS. 
 
 rude and impolite in the extreme, not so here, for I presume 
 it never happened a gentleman even offering to give up his 
 seat to a lady ; it is not the custom. Each one hires his 
 seat on starting, and pays for it, and then there is no chang- 
 ing during the route. 
 
 We found the country varying in its aspect, sometimes 
 fertile and cultivated to the highest degree, and then barren 
 and wild in the extreme. The meadows were of a green so 
 bright as to merit well the name of emerald. We passed 
 through several towns and villages, but there was nothing in 
 any of them to call forth any description. The houses all 
 along the roadside were of the most ordinary kind, for in all 
 my journeyings about I never saw so many ill looking hovels. 
 In every country, though you may see some uncomfortable 
 dwellings, you may always occasionally see some pretty 
 house to relieve the monotony. Not so here, for all are 
 alike ugly and uncomfortable, and as for the inhabitants they 
 are on a level with their places of abode, for such a set of 
 tatterdemalions, I should hope, is but rarely seen. I really 
 think they must sleep in their clothes, for I do not see how 
 they can disencumber themselves of their rags at night, or 
 once get them on again after they are off. Often, as our 
 coach passed by some wretched hovel, a troop of dirty chil- 
 dren would run to the door, their bodies but partially en- 
 veloped in an apron or a coarse towel. Window tax must 
 bring in but little profit in this part of the country, many of 
 the inhabitants contriving dexterously to get rid of it, by 
 having no windows at all in their dwellings. And yet after 
 all, I must do them the justice to say that they appeared 
 happy and cheerful. True, we had numbers of beggars 
 around the coach whenever we stopped, and they had pitiful 
 stories to relate, not to us however, seeming to imagine that 
 outside passengers had no alms to bestow. 
 
 At Steine, (I do not know as I spell the word aright,) 
 about twenty-five miles from here, is a splendid seat belong- 
 ing to the Marquis of Cunningham. The grounds are ex- 
 
LETTERS. 441 
 
 tensive and beautifully laid out, abounding in grand old 
 woods, shady groves, and quiet dells. In the centre of a 
 smooth lawn stands a large square castle, and within sight of 
 it there is a pretty little cascade. The river Nye runs 
 through the park. It is one of the most magnificent private 
 country seats I have seen in Great Britain. About the cas- 
 tle, the scenery is exquisitely lovely. The Nye runs through 
 rich fields, and the hills around are covered with patches of 
 green and gold. 
 
 We passed several other fine estates, but inferior in beauty 
 to the one I have just mentioned. 
 
 I cannot speak too highly of the roads in Ireland, they 
 are excellent, and in all the distance from Derry here, we 
 saw but three toll-gates. Our coachman yesterday was 
 changed only three times, so we were called upon quite often 
 for fees. Then too we had a guard, he came the whole dis- 
 tance with us, and demanded a fee proportionally large for 
 the length of time he was on duty. 
 
 x\nd now you are ready to ask me what I think of Dublin, 
 and I shall give you a candid answer, whether it confirm or 
 destroy your preconceived opinions. I will not say but there 
 are times when it may be seen to good advantage, but that 
 time is not now, for every thing bears a sombre hue, and 
 the streets are almost impassable on account of the thick 
 black mud, that lies in deep layers even on the sidewalks. 
 The public buildings are on a magnificent scale, but the 
 most of the private houses are of brick of a dingy color, 
 some however are of stone, quite good looking, but plain. 
 
 The river Anna Liffey runs through the town. It is a 
 pretty, placid stream, enclosed by strong walls, and spanned 
 by several handsome bridges, among which is one of iron, 
 composed of but one arch. The streets along the river, 
 are straight and quite wide. Indeed many of the streets 
 are very regular, so that we have had no difficulty in finding 
 our way about. Sackville street is the widest and hand- 
 somest street in the city. In the centre of it is a tall pillar 
 
44^ LETTERS. 
 
 erected to Lord Nelson, surmounted by a statue of the naval 
 hero. 
 
 And now for some of the public buildings. The Bank 
 of Ireland, the Parliament House before the union, is one 
 of the handsomest buildings in all Great Britain, and is 
 adorned by a magnificent portico. Opposite is Trinity 
 College, a large, plain, but commanding edifice. Then we 
 come to the ** Four Courts," and what epithet shall I apply 
 to this ? — for my vocabulary is about drained. It is adorned 
 with large pillars, and has a noble dome, surrounded by a 
 range of light columns. Further down the river we see 
 another large building, also surmounted by a dome. Its 
 situation at the lower part of the city, and the quantity of 
 the shipping around it, tell us that it is the Custom-house. 
 The Post-office is embellished by an Ionic portico. 
 
 We finished our walks by a stroll to Phenix Park, in the 
 upper part of the city. It is a beautiful spot, every thing 
 about it seeming most natural and rural looking. Here, 
 on a large common, are multitudes of deer and cattle quietly 
 feeding, there is a little clump of trees, whose tall shadows 
 lie over the grass, here a closely shorn lawn, and there a 
 thick copse, and to add to this charming scene, children 
 were gamboling on the green-sward, and boys were climb- 
 ing up the trees, and carriages and jaunting cars were 
 darting here and there over the roads which traverse the 
 park in every direction. 
 
 In returning home, we passed the Barracks, consisting of 
 several large stone houses, enclosed within a solid wall. 
 Soldiers seemed almost as plenty here as in France. 
 
 Sunday eve. 
 We attended service this morning at the Cathedral, quite 
 a long walk from our house, being on the other side of the 
 river. We picked our way through the mud, stepping as 
 daintily as though walking on eggs, for fear of slipping 
 down, for the thick slime on the side-walks actually made it 
 
LETTERS. 443 
 
 dangerous for our clothes, if not for our limbs. And such 
 a nasty, ragged set of people, as we met, I would defy the 
 whole world to produce. About every other woman that we 
 encountered was a beggar and in rags. In the short space 
 of one minute we were accosted by no less than eight, all 
 beseeching charity *' for God's sake," or " for the love of 
 Heaven." 
 
 The Cathedral is a large and imposing edifice, at least as 
 regards the exterior. The interior is lofty, but the pillars 
 are plastered over in not a very neat manner. Several 
 monuments adorn the walls. The choir only is used in time 
 of service ; it is hung around with banners of " the most 
 noble order of St. Patrick." We heard a most excellent 
 sermon here, though from whom I know not. 
 
 Fruit and vegetable shops have been open to-day, and 
 worse than all, those dens of iniquity, the gin shops. I 
 should think one out of every three shops in the city, has 
 on the sign, " beer and spirits." 
 
 And now our short acquaintance with Ireland'is ended. 
 It was not our design to make much of a visit here, our 
 object in coming being simply to visit the Giant's Causeway, 
 so to-morrow morning we leave Erin's green isle. 
 
 Liverpool, Wednesday eve. 
 My dearest P. : 
 
 Imagine our disappointment on arriving here this evening, 
 to find by a letter from Mr. P. in London, that Mr. D. was 
 forced by continued indisposition to leave immediately for 
 home, and that he sailed last Sunday in the Independence. 
 We shall however adhere to our original plan of going in 
 the New York, which sails next week. Next week ! And 
 is it possible that our long journey is so near its termination, 
 that we shall so soon be on the bounding deep ? The days 
 are now so short we cannot accomplish much, and so cold 
 
444 LETTERS. 
 
 that it is by no means pleasant or comfortable to travel, 
 particularly when we are obliged to start so early in the 
 mornings, and with glad steps and willing hearts, we shall 
 turn our faces homeward. And now back to Ireland for a 
 moment, and then away again. We took a steamer on 
 Monday morning from Kingston, about six miles from Dub- 
 lin. The bay of Dublin is very beautiful, by some said to 
 equal that of Naples, but it wants the mountainous scenery 
 and rock-girt isles of the Italian bay. 
 
 The English steamers are by no means equal in beauty 
 or comfort to those in our own land. Here they are invaria- 
 bly painted black, thus having what our good friend 
 
 calls a " funereal " aspect. Their cabins can, by no manner 
 of means, compare in elegance and tastefulness with those in 
 our boats. In fact the English boats are built for the sea, and 
 so they are strong and firm. We made the passage of the 
 Irish channel, a distance of seventy miles, in six hours, the 
 greatest part of which time I spent in sleep, my invariable 
 custom wliere there is nothing interesting to be seen. We 
 were favored with a pleasant day, and an unusually quick 
 sail, the steamers sometimes being twenty-four hours out. We 
 landed at Holyhead in Wales. At the entrance to the town 
 a high rocky promontory called " the Head," juts out into 
 the sea, thus forming a good natural protection to the har- 
 bor. All around rise rock-ribbed hills, on one of which is a 
 monumental pillar to Capt. Sherman, who by a heavy sea 
 was washed off one of the Dublin steamers, being by the 
 force of the waves actually carried through the bulwarks, 
 so that almost every bone in his body was broken before he 
 reached the water. On a small rocky island near the en- 
 trance to the harbor, stands a lighthouse. This island was 
 owned by the keeper of the light, who died a short time 
 since, leaving this property to a daughter about sixteen 
 years old. Government wishing to purchase it, offered the 
 guardian of the young girl nearly four hundred thousand 
 pounds. A larger sum was demanded, but finally after 
 
LETTERS. 445 
 
 many negotiations, the island was transferred to the state, 
 government paying nearly half a million pounds for it. 
 Quite a fortune for the damsel. 
 
 We staid at a quiet inn at Holyhead all night, and, oh 
 what a night it was ! The wind howled, and the rain beat 
 against our windows, and the waves roared, the fearful 
 sounds making me shudder as I thought of our voyage 
 across the wide Atlantic at this stormy season of the year. 
 But He who " tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," will I 
 doubt not in His own good time bring us safely to the port 
 where we would be. 
 
 Yesterday we had one of the most delightful journies we 
 have yet taken ; and although I was on the top of the coach 
 from six in the morning till after five in the afternoon, I felt 
 but little fatigued, so varied and charming were the scenes 
 through which we passed. 
 
 Holyhead is situated on a small island, a narrow arm of 
 the sea separating it from the main land, but across this arm 
 an excellent causeway is made, so that we literally rode with 
 the sea on either side of us. For the first three hours we 
 were in the immediate neighborhood of the sea ; the country 
 was rather barren and bleak, and vegetation seemed stunted, 
 but still I liked the scene, there was about it such an air of 
 wildness, though sometimes amounting to dreariness. The 
 houses were much cleaner and neater than those we saw in 
 Ireland. The women wear men's hats, and as some of them 
 occasionally had on large jackets over their petticoats, ot 
 were wrapped in cloaks, at a little distance I found it diffi- 
 cult to recognize my own sex. 
 
 As we approached the Menai straits, the country became 
 more fertile, and in some places really luxuriant. The hills 
 around were quite high and well wooded, and several small 
 rocky islands dotted the surface of the straits, their green 
 shrubs in admirable contrast with the blue water. Near by 
 is the beautiful seat of the Marquis of Anglesea, and on a 
 high hill is a pillar erected to him. Across the straits is 
 38 
 
446 LETTERS. 
 
 thrown the celebrated Menai bridge, the finest bridge of 
 the kind in the world. It is five hundred and fifty feet in 
 length between the points of suspension, thirty in width, 
 and one hundred feet above the level of the sea. Though 
 not so long as the suspension bridge at Fribourg, yet as a 
 work of art it is much superior to that. It is suspended on 
 bars of iron, four bars being clustered together in one band. 
 A line runs through the middle, so that coaches going and 
 returning take diflferent sides. It is really a magnificent 
 affair. And then the country around is so beautiful, the 
 banks are so rich and well wooded, that it really seems 
 worthy of being called a second Paradise. I was perfectly 
 charmed with the spot, and would really have been glad to 
 have spent a week in such delightful environs, could we 
 have been sure of good weather. 
 
 About a mile from the bridge, we passed Bangor, seated 
 between two ridges of rocks. We saw an old cathedral, 
 a long and low edifice, and a very pretty modern church, 
 and this was all we noticed as particularly worthy of atten- 
 tion. Then for some time we rode through scenes inex- 
 pressibly grand and lovely. On our right, high hills arose, 
 on our left, verdant meadows sloped down to the blue waters, 
 which stretched far away in the distance. On an eminence 
 overlooking the straits was Penrhyn castle, a splendid edi- 
 fice of modern date. At a short distance was the little town 
 of Beaumaris, its white houses peeping through the trees, 
 and reflected on the bright waters. 
 
 Through scenes like these we rode for some time, till 
 suddenly a change passed over nature's fair face. The 
 green hills disappeared, and there came in their stead, bar- 
 ren, rocky, and precipitous heights, the straits expanded, 
 till before us lay the sea, " boundless and fathomless," Our 
 road was cut out of the jagged rocks, and lay directly on 
 the margin of the water. Each step served to increase the 
 wildness and grandeur of the scene. And yet between 
 these rugged hills, there often appeared sweet, smiling dells, 
 
LETTERS. 447 
 
 most lovely to behold. Oh how many charms doth dear 
 *' mother nature " unfold to her loving children ! Truly 
 " she ne'er betrayed the heart that trusted her." 
 
 Soon we came to the old town of Conway, surrounded 
 by a massive wall, fortified by circular and semicircular 
 towers, and having four large gateways. The town is a 
 feast for a lover of antiquity, the houses being built in the 
 most primitive style of architecture. There is a magnifi- 
 cent castle, built in the time of the first Edward. It is 
 seated on a rock, washed on two sides by the river Conway, 
 is of oblong form, flanked by eight embattled towers. 
 
 We passed through several other towns, the houses of 
 which, though generally poor and low, were neat and clean. 
 St. Asapli's is in a delightful situation, lying in a lovely vale 
 between the rivers Clywd and Elwy. Holywell is in the 
 vicinity of the celebrated St. Winifred's Well, and near it 
 are lead and coal mines. 
 
 We passed several majestic castles, though I cannot re- 
 member their names, so uncouth to an English ear, and even 
 if I could, I should not venture to spell them. One called 
 Gwyisch (pronounce it if you can), was a splendid affair. 
 At the four corners of the park were turreted gateways. 
 The castle though modern is noble, and the grounds around 
 are superb. 
 
 A few miles from St. Asaph's, we passed the seat of Lord 
 Denorban. The park is one of the finest I have yet seen, 
 such magnificent trees, such velvet lawns ; but alas ! in the 
 midst of these beauties, the house was a crumbling ruin, 
 having that very morning been nearly destroyed by fire. 
 All along the road, we met men and boys returning from the 
 scene of conflagration, and alas ! for humanity, scarcely 
 one was sober. They had found their way to the wine- 
 cellar, and in the confusion had helped themselves freely. 
 
 Certainly the houses and grounds of the English nobility 
 are worthy of all praise. It is impossible, at least for me, 
 to conceive of grounds laid out in more exquisite taste, 
 
448 LETTERS. 
 
 and always at the public entrance to them there is a neat 
 porter's lodge, about the only specimens of pretty cottages 
 we have seen in Great Britain. Sometimes they are in the 
 Gothic style, sometimes in the Grecian, and at others in the 
 cottage. Often their walls are almost hidden by the mant- 
 ling ivy. 
 
 After leaving Conway, we had but few glimpses of the 
 sea, but still the scenes were beautiful beyond description. 
 Gentle hills, smiling valleys, dark groves, meadows of the 
 richest green, winding streams, and here and there the deep 
 blue sea, formed the elements of beauty, here combined in 
 one harmonious whole. I have dwelt at length on this ride, 
 because I fancy we shall take no more like it, at least at 
 present. I hope the account has not been tedious to you. 
 
 We stopped last night at Chester, and spent a few hours 
 this morning in looking around this old and curious town. 
 It is the most antique looking affair w^e have seen in this 
 country. Some of the houses are the oddest things, and 
 bear the marks of venerable old age. Many are like some 
 of the Swiss houses, plastered on the outside, and having 
 the beams painted black, and others are quite unlike any 
 thing I ever saw before, having the lower and upper stories 
 projecting beyond the second, the space in front of that 
 being used as a place for promenade, many of the shops 
 being in the second story. Around this ancient town is a 
 wall, a fashionable promenade, and particularly attractive, 
 I should think, to those who like to look into their neigh- 
 bors' houses and yards. 
 
 There are some interesting relics of days gone by in 
 Chester, particularly the Cathedral, a Gothic edifice of red 
 stone, two or three other old churches, built like the Flor- 
 entine palaces, of blocks of stone, an Exchange erected in 
 the time of Queen Anne, and a castle, part of it built by 
 William I. In front of the castle are handsome modern 
 buildings of stone, ornamented with rich porticoes ; they 
 are an armory, a county jail, a shire hall, and a court of 
 
LETTERS. 449 
 
 justice. In the court-yard of the castle the soldiers were 
 going through the sword exercises. 
 
 We came from Chester by rail-road to the opposite bank 
 of the Mersey, and then crossed the river in a steam ferry- 
 boat. We are now at Miss Perkins', No. 70 Duke street, a 
 most excellent house, which I should take pleasure in re- 
 commending to any of your fellow-citizens intending to 
 visit this place. 
 
 Thursday eve. 
 
 We have just returned from a delightful visit to Mr. G.'s. 
 Among the charms of this social interview, not a slight one 
 was four Providence papers given to me by Mr. G. They 
 are the first papers from our own city that we have seen. I 
 have laid them aside to read during our homeward voyage, 
 not neglecting first (womanlike) to look at the marriages 
 and deaths, and to glance at some of the advertisements. 
 The papers you say in your last that you sent us, have not 
 been received. In vain we have been to the office for them, 
 no one knows any thing about them ; you should have di- 
 rected them to the care of our banker, and then they would 
 have come safely. Mr. P. has sent us a large package of 
 Boston and New York papers, and I have carefully laid 
 them by for perusal on that long voyage. 
 
 But now I must away, for to-morrow we start on one 
 more excursion, and then adieu to merry England ; so now 
 for the present farewell. 
 
 York, Saturday eve. 
 My dearest F.: 
 
 We left Liverpool Friday afternoon, and were but one 
 hour going to Manchester, a distance of thirty-one miles. 
 For once we were so fortunate as to get into a train that did 
 not stop every two minutes to pick up a passenger. The 
 country from what we could see of it we judged to be level, 
 
450 LETTERS. 
 
 somewhat marshy, but generally fertile, though the fields 
 were mostly shorn of their crops. We passed two or three 
 manufacturing villages, their tall chimnies sending forth 
 clouds of smoke. 
 
 We tried to get into some of the manufactories in Man- 
 chester, but were every where told that strangers were 
 never admitted. I did not care about seeing their goods, 
 I merely wanted to get a look at the operatives, to see if 
 they were as pale and cadaverous looking objects as I had 
 heard them represented to be. 
 
 We found the air at Manchester more smoky, dirty, and 
 thick, than in any place we have been ; we really could not 
 at any time see the length of a street before us. The 
 houses are of a dingy hue, in fact every thing was literally 
 covered with fine particles of coal dust. Some of the pub- 
 lic buildings were quite handsome, generally adorned with 
 Doric pillars, an order of architecture well suited to the 
 dark colored stone of which they are built. We passed by 
 a beautiful Gothic church, with a noble spire. Near this 
 was an open common, in which was a great number of 
 horses, and all around were booths and stalls, which led us 
 to imagine that some kind of a fair was being held, and on 
 inquiry, we found that it was one for the sale of horses. 
 Two or three temporary theatres had been erected, the 
 actors and actresses of which were bepainted and befur- 
 belowed in the most gaudy manner. I doubt whether their 
 performances would have elicited much applause from an 
 enlightened audience. Indeed their array of talent could 
 not have been very promising, for the price of admission to 
 a play was but one penny. 
 
 Then there were stands for cakes, nuts, fruits and oysters, 
 but on the whole, the scene was far from having the variety 
 and interest that attend a French or Italian fete. 
 
 I went to my room after our walk with my head aching 
 from the effects of the noxious air, with my nostrils filled 
 with the vile dust, and my forehead covered with dark spots. 
 
LETTERS. 451 
 
 besides having sundry long streaks of black adown one side 
 of my face. I would not exchange the free air of my New 
 England hills for all that this dirty town is worth. My only 
 wonder is, how people live here at all. I should think it 
 impossible that they could long breathe such air with im- 
 punity. 
 
 We took a coach this morning for Sheffield. We fan- 
 cied it was a fine morning, but had no way of knowing 
 through such an atmosphere, whether the sun was shining 
 or not, but when we got out of the precincts of the dirty 
 town, we found that indeed it bade fair to be a charming day. 
 The ride to Sheffield was really delightful, I think one of 
 the finest we have taken in England. Around Manchester, 
 the country was level and well cultivated ; farther beyond, 
 it grew hilly, but the hills were covered with verdure, and 
 between them stretched bright green vales, shaded by ma- 
 jestic trees. Then bare and rocky were the hills, and ster- 
 ile was the land, till we reached the vale of Derbyshire near 
 Castleton. The descent to this vale was grand, through a 
 narrow chasm in the hills. At the entrance to this pass, 
 was " the shivering mount," so called because fragments 
 are constantly breaking from it and falling into the glen 
 below. The vale, wide and beautiful, lay sheltered between 
 the hills, its dewy meads and o'erarching trees in striking 
 contrast to the bare summits around. So charmed were we 
 with this scene, that we resolved at once to stop there on 
 our return on Monday. 
 
 Again, the scene changed. We toiled up steep hills, hills 
 covered with rocks and the " dark mountain heather," leav- 
 ing " the pensive vale in quietness" behind us. 
 
 And yet again there was a change ; soft, smiling scenes 
 surrounded us, till in the midst of a country, fertile and rich 
 as a garden, we reached Sheffield. For miles before getting 
 there, we were aware that we were approaching it, not by 
 its white spires glittering in the sun's rays, but by the cloud 
 of smoke which hung over it, enshrouding hills, vales, rocks, 
 
452 LETTERS. 
 
 trees, spires, houses, every thing ; but on this subject so 
 noxious to me 1 will not enlarge. 
 
 I had no idea that Sheffield was so large a town, and 
 could I have seen farther ahead than six yards at a time I 
 might have been able to have given you some account of it. 
 We spent our time while there in visiting the cutlery manu- 
 factory of the Rodgers', celebrated all the world over. Their 
 show rooms are filled with specimens of articles made at 
 their establishment, far too numerous for me even to attempt 
 to give their names, and so I will mention but one thing, 
 a knife having eighteen hundred and forty-one blades and 
 instruments, and valued at two hundred guineas (one thou- 
 sand dollars). 
 
 In the spring-knife manufactory, the only department we 
 were able to visit, there are constantly employed four hun- 
 dred and ten hands. I am not at all expert in describing 
 the process of manufacturing different articles, so you will 
 excuse me if I pass over knife-making in silence. Suffice 
 it to say, that in forming, finishing and polishing one knife, 
 it passes through the workman's hands no less than seventy- 
 five times. 
 
 We were disappointed in not being able to visit the needle 
 manufactory, but we found that it w as two miles from Shef- 
 field, however we are determined to stop as we go back. 
 We had barely time before the " going out of the rail," to 
 get at an inn some bread and butter and a small apple-pie, 
 which moderate lunch cost us the immoderate sum of four 
 shillings. You see one has to pay for being hungry in this 
 country. 
 
 We were not quite three hours in coming here from 
 Sheffield, a distance of nearly sixty miles. It soon became 
 dark so that I could see but little of the country through 
 which we passed. At one time the road for some distance 
 was cut through rocks, in which were layers of coal, bearing 
 the appearance of having been burnt. Of course I have 
 nothing as yet to say of this city. Indeed we shall look 
 
LETTERS. 453 
 
 about but little, our object in coming, being simply to attend 
 service to-morrow in the world-renowned York Minster. 
 
 Sunday eve, Oct. 3. 
 And now what shall I say of this great cathedral ? After 
 describing so many churches, I feel that it would be hardly fair 
 to burden you with any more accounts, yet it would not be 
 just to pass in total silence by so majestic and time-honored 
 a pile as St. Peter's at York. This day, independent of its 
 associations connected with the church, has been full of 
 melancholy interest to us, as it is the last Sabbath we shall 
 spend in the old world, at least for many a year. 
 
 York Minster presents an imposing exterior, the west 
 front being surmounted by two noble towers. Around the 
 walls are many niches, filled with statues. Service was per- 
 formed this morning in the choir as usual ; indeed the nave 
 is now being rebuilt, having been lately partially destroyed 
 by fire. The choir is large enough to be a church in itself 
 It is exceedingly beautiful ; the walls being wainscoted with 
 oak, the seats and canopies over them of the same material, 
 and carved in the most delicate and perfect manner. At 
 the upper end of the choir, there is a magnificent window of 
 painted glass, the largest window of the kind in Europe, be- 
 ing seventy-five feet high. The screen, separating the nave 
 from the choir, is perfectly beautiful, so delicate, so lace- 
 like in its workmanship, you could scarcely imagine it to be 
 of stone. On either side of it are seven niches, in each of 
 which is the statue of a king of Great Britain ; the seven 
 on the left hand being those who reigned before the church 
 was commenced, and the others, those who lived during the 
 time it was being built. The ceiling of the whole church is 
 vaulted, the arches rising one hundred and eighty feet from 
 the floor. The pillars are immense, measuring twenty-one 
 yards around. All the windows are of painted glass, and it 
 is said that there is more stained glass in this minster than 
 in all the churches united in the kinordom. At the end of 
 
454 LETTERS. 
 
 one of the arms of the cross is a beautiful window called 
 " the five sisters," because the designs were first done in 
 needlework by five sisters and presented to the church. It 
 is fifty-seven feet high, and is divided into five compart- 
 ments, each one being the handiwork of one of the sister- 
 hood. But let us now return to the choir, where a large 
 congregation is awaiting the commencement of the service. 
 Just after we were seated, there came up the aisle, two men 
 in royal livery, bearing the sword and the mace, and behind 
 them, in scarlet robes trimmed with fur, walked the Lord 
 Mayor of York, a fine looking, white-headed old gentleman, 
 and his assistant. They sat in elevated seats, the sword 
 and the mace being fixed before them. 
 
 Prayers are generally read from a desk on one side of the 
 choir, the lessons from a lectern directly opposite, and the 
 litany from a small desk in the centre of the aisle, but to- 
 day they were all read from one place, as the reader was a 
 new Prebendary, and was reading himself in, as it is called. 
 At the end of the service he announced his name as the 
 Rev. Robert Isaac Wilberforce. I know not who preached 
 the sermon, but it was quite a good one. 
 
 After service was over, we took another walk around the 
 grand old minster. In the south aisle are many monuments, 
 some more than six hundred years old. Among them are 
 monuments to Archbishop Sharpe, and to Sturms, the author 
 of " Reflections for every Day in the Year." A part of this 
 cathedral is built on the site of the most ancient church in 
 the kingdom, where the first Christians in the island met 
 together for worship. 
 
 In the vestry room are several antiquities, a silver crosier 
 six feet long, presented by Queen Catherine, two chalices 
 found in the tomb of an archbishop, where they had laid 
 five hundred years, several rings found in another tomb, a 
 drinking horn, presented by Rufus as a pledge that after his 
 death his lands should be given to the church, and a wassail 
 bowl, a gift from one of the archbishops of York to the 
 
LETTERS. 455 
 
 Cordwainers' Society. Around it are sculptured small 
 figures, and below them is an inscription giving the name 
 of the donor, and the society to which it was given, and 
 stating furthermore the agreeable intelligence that who- 
 ever drank from that bowl should receive forty days' indul- 
 gence. This society for more than five hundred years had 
 a meeting every year, at which time the bowl was filled with 
 punch and passed around, each member in turn drinking 
 from it. A few years since the society was given up, and 
 the bowl was presented to the church. 
 
 Beneath, there is a subterranean chapel called the crypt 
 where mass was formerly performed by torchlight. Near 
 by is a deep well, named " the holy St. Peter's Well," from 
 which was procured the water for baptism. Back of the 
 choir are two ancient Roman coffins of stone, found about 
 a half mile from the city. 
 
 Connected with the church is the Chapter-house, an oc- 
 tagonal building, seven sides of which are filled with splen- 
 did windows of stained glass. Over the entrance is en- 
 graved in gilt letters the eulogy pronounced on this edifice 
 by some great traveller. Though written in elegant Latin, 
 it was translated to us in the following inelegant manner, 
 " As the rose are the chief of all flowers, so are this house 
 the chief of all houses ;" a fair specimen by the way of the 
 conversational abilities of the lower classes in this country, 
 who seem to know as much about grammar as about Greek 
 and Hebrew. 
 
 I have thus spoken to you of the principal things that at- 
 tracted our attention in this majestic church, though no 
 description of mine can do justice to the splendor and mag- 
 nificence of so impressive an edifice. 
 
 York abounds in old churches, for in going to and from 
 the cathedral to-day, we have passed at least a dozen, all 
 bearing the marks of hoary age. They are low^ and small, 
 each having a little tower or spire, and windows of stained 
 glass. A wall formerly surrounded the city, two or three 
 
456 LETTERS. 
 
 antique looking gates of which are now remaining. There 
 is also a castle, built in the time of the first William, at 
 present used as a county jail. The river Ouse runs through 
 the city, and is capable of accommodating considerable 
 shipping. 
 
 I have no more time to write, and nothing more to say 
 just now even if I had ever so much time, so I close this 
 letter, just saying by way of consolation for you, and in 
 gratitude for your long continued patience, that after one 
 or two more epistles this great " budget of letters" will be 
 brought to a close ; and you will have no further accounts of 
 the '' things which I saw abroad," till I meet you face to 
 face, and give the same free reins to my tongue that I have 
 hitherto given to my pen. Perhaps this prospect may not 
 be quite as pleasing to you as to me. But I thought I had 
 closed some time ago, so without another word, I leave you. 
 
 Castleton, Monday eve. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 Here we are in this quiet country town, and at a nice 
 little inn, and while I am waiting for my usual hour for re- 
 tiring, never many minutes this side of midnight, I purpose 
 to occupy the hour or so that is given me, by throwing to- 
 gether a few remarks in relation to manners and customs in 
 this country, particularly as regards hotels and inns. And 
 first of all I cannot speak in too high terms of the perfect 
 neatness and order that characterize *' public houses " in 
 this country, contrasted as they are with the air of discom- 
 fort that pervades a dirty Italian or French inn. Notwith- 
 standing the unbounded approbation which in this respect I 
 am willing and ready to bestow upon them, they have their 
 disadvantages and grievances, which I am about forthwith 
 to pour into your ear. On arriving at a hotel or an inn, for 
 the remark, as far as our observation goes, applies to both, 
 
LETTERS. 457 
 
 the first question asked you is, '' Will you have more than 
 one room? " If you are on the wing, intending to stop but 
 a night, and have any regard for the praiseworthy virtue of 
 economy, your answer would naturally be " No." A diffi- 
 culty not foreseen by you immediately arises, " Wher^ then 
 will you dine? " You open your eyes wide and ask, " Have 
 you no public dining-room ? " It would be difficult to tell 
 on whose face sits the greatest look of astonishment, your 
 own or the innkeeper's. Suffice it to say, that after much 
 talk on the subject you are told, that there is no public 
 table, that each party dines by itself, and that it is necessary 
 that you should have a room where you can take your meals 
 by yourself Of course you coincide with the arrangement, 
 there is no alternative but to do it. You dine, and perhaps 
 take breakfast in a room set apart for your own use, and in 
 the morning find an addition to your bill of four shillings, 
 or perhaps a little less, for the use of the said room. Nor is 
 this all. We rarely dine till the duties of the day are over, 
 an additional expense is thus incurred; and we are charged 
 two shillings for the use of " wax candles " on our table 
 (no one in England burns oil). However, after dinner I 
 always order the candles to my sleeping-room, and as I sit 
 up late, I make out, Yankee-like, to get my " money's 
 worth " out of them. 
 
 Morning comes, and you are told the coach is ready, or 
 that it is time for the ** rail to go out," and you descend 
 from your room ; but mercy on me, what an array of ser- 
 vants, drawn up perhaps out of respect to you to witness your 
 departure ! duite the contrary. Listen to their various 
 pleas and demands. First comes the waiter; if you have 
 dined and breakfasted, he modestly demands two shillings, 
 and if you demur, he tells you that he has no wages, but 
 has to pay something himself for the situation he occupies, 
 that he depends on the liberality of gentlemen for his sup- 
 port, laying full stress on the word " gentlemen." Well, 
 you have done with him, and pass on ; a sheepish looking 
 39 
 
456 LETTERS. 
 
 youth draws near, merely ejaculating, " Boots, sir, if you 
 please," (perhaps those articles of leather have not been out 
 of your room. No matter, it is all the same, *' Boots " thinks 
 he ought to have cleaned them, and so relies upon a six- 
 pence.) You walk on, but a demure looking damsel places 
 herself in your way, drops a curtsy and whines out, *' The 
 chambermaid, if you please, mem." If you offer a six- 
 pence, she draws herself up, and says, "It is not enough 
 when there is two persons," as though it was logically more 
 trouble to make up a bed for two than for one. However 
 on this point I was firm, and when we stopped but one 
 night, would never be cajoled out of more than a sixpence. 
 Nimbly jumping on the coach, we thanked our stars that it 
 was over; not so, our diminutive carpet bag was handed 
 after us, the hat was touched, and now " Porter, sir," met 
 our ear. An audible groan is extorted from you, as another 
 sixpence comes forth, and you know that the same thing has 
 to be repeated day after day. Then at the end of twenty 
 miles, your coachman, a well dressed man, driving in kid 
 gloves, gives up the ribands to his successor in office, takes 
 off his hat to you, assures the gentlemen, glancing sideways 
 at the ladies, that he is sorry to leave them, hopes he has 
 given satisfaction, and ends his high sounding speech, by 
 praying you to " remember the coachman." A half-crown 
 from two is quite as little as he likes to take. At the end 
 of the ride, if it has been on the mail-coach, the guard must 
 be fee-ed, for *' tuting on a horn," And so end the per- 
 plexities of that day. End ! did I say 1 No ! begin, for a 
 new source of anxiety opens before you. You order dinner 
 — " What will you have?" Every individual article that 
 you wish on your table must be specified. You may 
 think this a light affair, but I assure you I have found it no 
 slight annoyance, for I like not to know what I am to eat 
 till I sit down at the table ; and I declare I have sometimes 
 felt that I would rather go to bed without my dinner, than 
 to be at the trouble of ordering it. One thing I always 
 
LETTERS, 459 
 
 have on my tongue, fish, that is excellent here, the salmon 
 especially. For breakfast, I say the same thing every night, 
 " boiled eggs, hot muffins." " What, no tea nor coffee? " 
 exclaims the waiter. When I say " cold water," I am 
 sometimes met by the answer, that it would not be any more 
 to have tea, and we often find it on our table, so difficult is 
 it for them to understand that any one, particularly in a 
 cool morning, can take cold water. And now my tale of 
 grievances is told, and after all you may think them not so 
 very hard to be borne, to which I can but repeat the old 
 proverb, " every one to his liking." 
 
 My hour is not yet up, so I will tell you what has hap- 
 pened to us since I closed my last letter, in which I told you 
 that we designed stopping in Sheffield to-day to visit the 
 needle manufactory of the Messrs. Rodgers, but on going to 
 their show-room to make inquiries, we found that it was 
 two miles out of town, so that it would be impossible for us 
 to go there and return in season to take the coach for this 
 place ; and we are obliged now to make the most economical 
 arrangements with respect to time, as the ship New York 
 sails on Thursday, so with much reluctance we gave up our 
 desire to witness the process of needle-making, but just as 
 we were turning away, we were told that we should on our 
 way hither pass through a small village, in which was quite 
 an extensive needle manufactory. On our reaching the 
 village, however, we found that if we stopped, there would be 
 no way for us to get on here, as no one in the vicinity was 
 licensed to let horses, so we had no alternative but to keep 
 on our route. 
 
 Arriving here, we went out immediately to visit the won- 
 ders, and first of all we turned to " the Devil's Cave," (don't 
 be frightened,) the entrance to which is in the side of the 
 hill, crowned by the remains of the castle mentioned by 
 Scott in " Peveril of the Peak." This cave is a magnifi- 
 cent affair, exceeding any thing of the kind we have yet 
 seen. It extends eight hundred and seventy yards in length, 
 
460 LETTERS. 
 
 and at its greatest depth is seven hundred and fifty feet from 
 the earth's surface. Of course in our rambles through it, we 
 were obliged to use torches. In its size it is exceedingly 
 irregular, the roof sometimes almost touching the earth, 
 compelling us to bend nearly double, that we might pass 
 along, and then stretching far upward till it was entirely 
 hidden from mortal ken. At times we were in a narrow 
 passage, our clothes brushing the rocks on either hand, and 
 anon we found ourselves in a spacious room, its walls glisten- 
 ing like jewels as the light fell upon the crystals embedded 
 in the stone. Through this cavern flows a little stream, 
 called the Styx. Here a boat awaited us, in which we were 
 obliged to lie down, to avoid the overhanging rocks. Con- 
 trary to the custom in classical times, we were not ferried 
 over the dark river, but pulled along by means of a rope 
 drawn by a man some distance ahead. On stepping from 
 the boat we stood at once in a capacious chamber, called 
 " Pluto's Hall." Around the walls candles were fixed, now 
 throwing their bright light over jutting stones and sparkling 
 crystals, and now casting deep shadows over dark niches 
 and grave-like recesses. Leaving this hall we wandered 
 along till we heard the noise of rushing water, sounding like 
 the surging of the sea at a distance. Nearer and still nearer 
 came the sound, till we reached the room called " Roger 
 Rain's Chamber," (so named in honor of one of the old in- 
 habitants of Castleton). Adown the walls of this chamber 
 the water came trickling, and never for a moment since the 
 discovery of the cave has it been known to have ceased 
 dropping. 
 
 We walked beside a little rivulet, which clear as crystal 
 flows over a pebbly bed, till we came to the termination of 
 the cave, and then slowly retraced our steps, and got back 
 once more to the light of day. I fear I have given you but 
 a feeble description of this impressive scene, and I should 
 utterly fail in attempting to convey to you an idea of the 
 effect it produced on us. Coming as we did from one of 
 
LETTERS. 461 
 
 the masterpieces of art, St. Peter's at York, to this cavern 
 the handiwork of God Himself, the change was striking in 
 the extreme, and we had a renewed opportunity of observing 
 how far superior was His workmanship, to the noblest in- 
 vention of man's genius. Here nature is seen, clothed in 
 her wildest, grandest, most imposing robes ; here, in tones 
 not to be misunderstood, she speaks to the soul of over- 
 powering sublimity. The capacious chambers, the narrow 
 passages, the o'erarching roof, the gushing stream, are they 
 not overwhelming in their grandeur ? 
 
 I would not willingly have missed seeing this majestic 
 cavern. How fitting that we should leave the old world, 
 with such scenes so fresh in our memory ! To-morrow we 
 shall probably have an interesting and exciting day. I will 
 not therefore close my letter till I can give you the results 
 of the day's sight-seeing. 
 
 Tuesday eve. 
 
 After an early breakfast this morning, we set out to visit 
 the remaining curiosities of Castleton, going first to the 
 celebrated ** Blue John " Mine. We had a long walk to 
 reach it, going for some distance along the road, then turn- 
 ing off by a narrow path over hills and through vales, the 
 rocks and the stones slippery with wet, so that they were 
 insecure stepping places for our feet. In a lonely, retired 
 spot among the hills is the entrance to the mine. We 
 plunged at once into the bowels of the earth, going by a 
 steep descent down a narrow path, a natural opening in the 
 rocks. This fissure extended far up over our heads, large 
 and partially detached rocks hanging in a threatening man- 
 ner over us. I could not but shudder as I glanced upward, 
 to think how slight a thing might keep us in that subter- 
 ranean abode till our bodies mouldered away. In two dif- 
 ferent places this narrow passage expands to a large cavern, 
 the top of which is lost in obscurity. 
 
 Through a part of this mine winds a small but clear 
 39* 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 Stream, and it seemed to us almost [like *a dream, and a 
 strange dream too, thus to wander by torchlight through 
 these hidden regions, and by this quiet rivulet. The chief 
 object of interest to us was the crystallizations seen in the 
 utmost splendor and profusion in this mine. On one side 
 of the narrow passage were the most brilliant and sparkling 
 crystals, on the other the wall was covered with petrifactions. 
 From the roof of the caverns hung long stalactites, looking 
 like large icicles, and reminding me of some parts of the 
 Alpine glaciers. 
 
 I never imagined any thing so magnificent as the appear- 
 ance presented by these caverns, as the rays of light from a 
 large chandelier played over the walls, lighting up the crys- 
 tallizations with a more than earthly splendor. In the long 
 drooping stalactites, and in the various crystals sparkling 
 on the walls, were seen all the hues of the rainbow. 
 
 Among the rocks and crystallizations is the spar known 
 here by the name of " Blue John." It is of a deep blue 
 color, and lies in large veins, the effect of which is very 
 beautiful seen by the flashing light of torches. From this 
 spar fluoric acid is made, used in etching glass. 
 
 We were perfectly enchanted with the view of this mine, 
 so different from any thing we have ever before seen. We 
 lingered and still lingered around, now stopping to gaze at 
 some large stalactites, which from their size and shape are 
 called the organ, and now looking at the different petrifica- 
 tions seen on every hand, now large pieces of wood, now 
 shrubs and plants, and now snails and insects. How great, 
 how varied are creation's wonders ! how diversified the 
 pages of nature's book ! Every day some new beauty is 
 unfolded to our gaze, so that it seems a luxury to live in a 
 world like this. 
 
 But let us proceed now to the Speedwell mines, going by 
 the wild pass called the " Winnats." Here every thing was 
 as wild and grand as the most enthusiastic lover of nature 
 could desire, a path winding between lofty and jagged hills, 
 
LETTERS. 463 
 
 the tops of which in their rude forms and shapes resem- 
 bled ruined forts and castles. I was on the point of sayino- 
 that I never saw any thing so grand as that pass, but I re- 
 member Switzerland, and so will qualify it by saying, that 
 there is nothing like it in Great Britain. 
 
 Through this pass the wind came so powerfully as to force 
 us to close our umbrella, though it was raining quite fast. 
 The old road was through this ravine, but so many acci- 
 dents occurred to the coaches and the passengers from the 
 violence of the wind, persons being often blown from the 
 top, and indeed heavy coaches being frequently overturned, 
 that the road was abandoned, and a new and more circui- 
 tous one laid out. 
 
 While in the midst of this wild scene, we came suddenly 
 upon a view of the valley, which lay nestled among the hills, 
 its bright fields and grand old trees in striking contrast to 
 the barren summits around. 
 
 Once more we descended to the inner regions of the 
 earth, this time going down more than a hundred steps. 
 Here we were obliged to take a small boat. But I can't 
 describe this mine to you in a regular and systematic man- 
 ner, so you must let me give the description in my own 
 desultory way. The Speedwell mine has been worked about 
 eighty years ; when first opened, it was supposed that it would 
 yield a great quantity of lead, as sixteen different veins 
 could be seen, but on beginning to work it, these flattering 
 hopes proved delusive, the veins being but small, and of 
 an inferior quality of lead, so that the individuals engaged 
 in the undertaking were ruined by the speculation. It is 
 now worked only in the winter. 
 
 The passage cut through the limestone rocks, and used in 
 working the mines, extends in a perfectly straight line for 
 seven hundred and fifty yards, and does not vary four inches 
 in width the whole distance. It is arched, and presents a 
 fine appearance, being partially lit by candles, fastened 
 at regular intervals alonor the sides. We rowed the whole 
 
464 LETTERS. 
 
 length of this passage, and then came to a large cavern in 
 which there is a waterfall. 
 
 When the mine was first worked, there was no water at 
 all to be seen, till at the end of the long passage the 
 miners suddenly opened upon the cavern, then the water 
 quickly gushed out, bearing every thing before it. The 
 workmen fled, consternation written on every face, but no 
 material injury ensued, only that ever since boats have 
 been employed, the water so far filling up the passage as 
 to render it utterly impossible to carry on the work in any 
 other way. 
 
 But this cavern is the most wonderful thing I ever saw. 
 Yes, after visiting so many places of interest, I think I 
 may safely pronounce this the most wonderful of all, and 
 the object of all others that most filled my mind with ad- 
 miration and awe, and I may almost say with fear. 
 
 But let me describe it to you more particularly. A strong 
 platform has been built over the water with a railing around 
 it, and standing on this floor and leaning over this railing, 
 we stood gazing down into the depths beneath, a water- 
 fall one hundred and forty-four feet deep, sending up its 
 thundering noise below. I do not think I ever experienced 
 more awful sensations than at that moment, when with one 
 startled hurried glance I took in the whole scene, the boil- 
 ing, foaming water below, and the vaulted ceiling rising so 
 far over our heads, as to be actually lost in obscurity. In- 
 deed no one knows how far up it does extend, for a rocket 
 has been sent up two hundred and seventy yards, but did 
 not reach the top. Nor is this all that is wonderful and 
 mystical about this cavern. The fall empties into a basin 
 or lake, about fifteen yards across at the top, but how far it 
 extends within the inner regions of the earth, or how deep 
 it is, no mortal knows, but this one thing is known, that 
 no bottom has ever been found to it, although a cord three 
 hundred feet long has been lowered down. One of the 
 guides told us that during eleven years, sixteen tons of 
 
LETTERS. 465 
 
 rubbish taken from the mine were thrown daily into this 
 basin, without apparently diminishing its depth. May it 
 not aptly be called a bottomless pit '? Can you imagine any 
 thing more sublime or terrific than to stand in that cavern 
 and look upon its solid walls, its ceiling veiled in obscu- 
 rity, to gaze down upon that dark, mysterious lake, and 
 listen to the unceasing din of that waterfall, and then to 
 know, to feel that one step forward would carry you far, 
 far beyond mortal aid ? Oh it is awfully grand and impres- 
 sive. 
 
 This stream of water has some connection with the one 
 which runs through "the Devil's Cave," as chaff thrown in 
 here, in due time makes it appearance there. Another ex- 
 periment has been tried ; some little twigs were thrown into 
 a stream about four miles from Castleton, and though it 
 is not known where this stream enters the earth, yet, 
 these twiffs in a little while were seen on the water in this 
 
 o 
 
 mine. 
 
 As we reseated ourselves in our little boat, it was a beau- 
 tiful sight that long narrow passage, with its little twinkling 
 lights, reflected in the still water. 
 
 Sometimes the Duke of Derbyshire visits the mine and 
 cavern, and then the whole passage is brilliantly illuminated, 
 forty pounds of candles being used for that purpose. A 
 band of musicians is stationed near the centre, and the 
 effect of the music in such a place must be fine indeed. 
 
 Well, we did not feel as though we had seen quite enough 
 of this interesting country, so we trudged across the fields 
 through long wet grass to the Odin lead mines. We did 
 not however go down into the mines, as the descent is diffi- 
 cult, and the air damp and unwholesome. I doubt much 
 whether we should have been deterred by these difficulties, 
 but there was still another, the time was wanting, for 
 we must get back to Liverpool this evening, as on Tues- 
 day morning we sail. We went into the huts above the 
 mine, where we saw the work-people engaged in different 
 
466 LETTERS. 
 
 processes. When the lead is brought from the mine, it is 
 broken up, and separated from the stone. Then it is pounded 
 with a hammer into very small pieces, and put into a sieve 
 over water ; the pure lead sifts through and falls to the bot- 
 tom, the alloy remains in the sieve. The water is then 
 drawn off, and the lead is sent away to be smelted. 
 
 The man who showed us around this mine was very old, 
 and he has been engaged in working here for eighty years, 
 having begun when he was a little boy. He is active and 
 energetic, stepping around as vigorously and talking as 
 briskly as though he was near the beginning of life, instead 
 of its close. According to his information, this is the oldest 
 lead mine in England, having been worked in the earliest 
 ages of the country, tradition says even before the times of 
 our Saviour. 
 
 Wet and somewhat tired we returned to the inn, and after 
 unloading our pockets of the specimens we had collected, 
 we climbed up the hill to take a near view of the old Peveril 
 Castle, and I think of all hills I ever ascended, this is the 
 steepest. How they ever built a castle on the top of such 
 a hill, far surpasses my feeble knowledge. 
 
 We met a man who officiously offered to be our con- 
 ductor, and though we declined his services, he kept by us, 
 and we were quite amused by the praises he so lavishly be- 
 stowed upon me, continually telling me that he never saw a 
 lady who went up so easily and so actively, but when he 
 found out that we had been out for more than six hours, 
 he seemed to be perfectly overwhelmed with astonishment 
 at my powers of endurance. 
 
 From the top of the hill the view was really magnificent. 
 On one side we saw hills bare, rocky, and wild, while on 
 the other the scene was soft and beautiful, the green vale 
 seeming to sleep calmly and securely in the mountain fast- 
 nesses. Of the old castle, interesting to us from the charm 
 thrown around it by Sir Walter Scott, but one square tower 
 now remains, the village church having been built of the 
 
LETTERS. 467 
 
 Stone taken from the ruins. A part of the wall is yet stand- 
 ing ; it is overgrown with ivy, and presents a picturesque 
 appearance. 
 
 As we descended the hill, we had a grand view of the 
 ravine, in which is the entrance to the Cave of his Satanic 
 Majesty, a wild ravine surely. At the foot of the hill, our 
 self-constituted guide pointed out the house said to have 
 been Major Bridgenorth's. 
 
 In this vale of Derbyshire, we saw several persons who 
 had goitres on their necks, caused, it is supposed, by drink- 
 ing the water from the mountains. 
 
 Once more we are in our comfortable quarters in Liver- 
 pool. The first information we had on arriving here was 
 that the New York does not sail till Friday, thus giving me 
 an opportunity of writing you one more letter, which with 
 this I shall leave here to be forwarded by the next steamer, 
 as the probability is that we shall not get home till long 
 after they reach you. 
 
 I am too tired at present to add another word. 
 
 Liverpool, Thursday, Oct. 7. 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 Our last day on land, at least for some time to come ; how 
 many days and nights we shall be rocked about on " the 
 boisterous main," is more than we can tell, probably a goodly 
 number, as at this season of the year the packet ships have 
 long voyages. But with our usual propensity to look on the 
 bright side, we hope for the best, and with willing feet and 
 joyous hearts, we shall step on board the gallant ship that is 
 to bear us on our homeward path. 
 
 Our time yesterday and to-day has been occupied with 
 preparing for our departure. The last walk has been taken, 
 the last duties performed, and now as usual on all occasions, 
 I turn to you, and with a sort of melancholy pleasure indite 
 this my last epistle. 
 
463 LETTERS. 
 
 This morning we walked to Everton, a village about a 
 mile and a half from Liverpool. At the head of this street 
 we passed the cemetery, a pretty, romantic spot on the side 
 of a hill. The tombs are cut out of the solid rock. A neat 
 little church is at the entrance to the grounds. As we drew 
 near a funeral procession was issuing from the church. 
 No where have I seen such display in funerals as in Eng- 
 land. Every thing is arranged with the utmost pomp and 
 parade. Enormous bunches of black feathers wave from the 
 top of the hearse. The carriages are all black, black trap- 
 pings cover the horses, and sable plumes nod from their 
 heads. All the men in the procession have wide pieces of 
 black crape or silk around their hats, the long ends hanging 
 down on their shoulders. I have never seen ladies in any 
 of the carriages, and from a certain air and expression in 
 all the men, I have been led to think the bearers and 
 mourners hired for the occasion. But be that as it may, 
 there is an ostentation of mourning about all the funeral pro- 
 cessions I have seen, exceedingly repugnant to my ideas of 
 that heart-felt sorrow which seeks to avoid the public eye. 
 
 The remainder of our walk was rather devoid of interest. 
 We passed some fine houses, but the greater part of them 
 was of brick, and quite ordinary looking. The principal 
 thing which attracted us to Everton was a church built of 
 cast iron, that is, the frame-work is of iron, the filling up, 
 stone. 
 
 The hill whereon the village stands, must command a fine 
 view of the river and the channel, when the air is suffi- 
 ciently clear, which was far from being the case this morn- 
 ing. We thought we saw a faint gleaming of water through 
 the smoke and fog, but we were not sure. 
 
 And thus has ended our last day in the old world. Now 
 farewell to merry England, England with its thriving towns, 
 its scenes of quiet loveliness, its hills and vales and beau- 
 teous lakes; and farewell to beautiful France, to gay, en- 
 chanting Paris, to sunny Italy, and hardest of all to say, 
 
NOTE. 469 
 
 farewell to thee, dear Switzerland, the country that next to 
 my own native land, I love the best. I fear I never shall 
 see thee again, never climb thy snow-clad mountains, or 
 rest in thy beautiful vales, never listen to the wild music of 
 thy waterfalls, and the noisy dashings of thy streams, but in 
 my dreams I shall oft revisit thee. Well does it cause sor- 
 row in my heart to bid adieu, perhaps forever, to loved 
 scenes like these ; yet there comes joy too, for in leaving 
 them, I turn to my own father-land, the land of my birth, 
 the land where are all that I love. Oh joy, joy ! Shall I 
 indeed see my home again, my own loved home ? Then 
 farewell to the varied scenes I have gazed upon with so 
 much delight, and welcome the sea, welcome America ! 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 After a boisterous and stormy passage of forty-four days, 
 we stepped once more on our native shore. Will the 
 reader allow me to give the following statistics of our 
 journey ? We travelled by sea in two different ships seven 
 thousand miles ; in steamers, thirteen hundred and twelve ; 
 by rail-road, six hundred and seventy-nine; in diligences, 
 thirteen hundred and fifty ; in a carriage we hired, eleven 
 hundred and fifty ; in coaches, eight hundred and forty-four ; 
 and in other kinds of carriages, three hundred ; making in 
 all, twelve thousand six hundred and thirty-five miles, of 
 which nineteen hundred and sixty-four miles were in Great 
 Britain. Eight hundred miles we rode on the outside of 
 coaches. Of course I can make no mention of the countless 
 40 
 
470 NOTE. 
 
 number of miles we rode in hackney coaches and cabs in 
 our excursions around different cities. 
 
 As we were gone from home two hundred and forty days, 
 our average rate of travelling was little more than fifty miles 
 a day. In all this long journey we met with nothing that 
 deserves the name of an accident, although we were often 
 travelling night and day, starting at all hours, and going in 
 all sorts of conveyances. We never lost even the slightest 
 article from our baggage, and were never subjected to those 
 little annoyances arising from leaving things behind, or being 
 too late at steam-boat, rail-road, or coach-office. 
 
-k is due t,wo weeks from the last date stamped 
 't returned at or before tha» -••r.. , r 
 
 n 
 
 DUE DATE 
 
 
 
 " 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 201-6503 
 
 
 Printed 
 In USA 
 
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
 0043218946 
 
 
 3^ 
 
 ^9 Xtfi'-i 
 

 
 
 
 '.■■.:j''V.j';/'.i3s^,|) IV",'. 
 
 '"wr^ lih';il tt'fiJ'iti) 
 
 lit