ciently tranquil to permit a government to be established; in which, doubtless, he would be called on to fill an important situation. I have never known a more interesting family than his, nor one in which ́talent and worth are so united.

The good Archbishop, too, I regret to leave,-so mild, so full of Christian virtues. In the gay and dissipated society of other places, where people only meet for amusement, and have little opportunity of becoming really known to each other, they part without regret. But in a quiet, secluded town like this, the habit of daily intercourse, and in a limited circle, establishes an intimacy somewhat resembling that formed by guests in large country-houses, who might have met nightly amid the festivities of a crowded metropolis, without creating anything more than a slight acquaintance. Innumerable are the gages

d'amitié we have received from our new friends here; and deep is the regret expressed, and I do believe felt, at our approaching departure. They kindly and flatteringly assert, that they shall never be enabled to pass the Casa Chiesa without sorrow; and more than one poetical effusion has been already written on the subject. Yes, parting is a melancholy thing, and so I have ever felt it.

FLORENCE.-Arrived here three days ago. The heat intense, and inhaling in this inn, good though it be, the odour of the cuisine, and the flesh-pots therein preparing all day, the smell alone is enough to make one fat, and yet to preclude appetite, so overcoming are its fumes.

Much as I had heard of the flowers of Florence, their variety, profusion, and beauty surpass my expectations, and tempt me to undraw my purse-strings frequently during the evening drive. The delicacy of their hues, and the delicious odours they exhale, must surprise as well as delight those accustomed only to the paler and less odoriferous flowers of our colder clime; but even at Rome and Naples there are none to be found comparable to those daily offered for sale here.

Among the other agrémens of Florence is an excellent bookseller's shop, where most of the new productions of literature can be purchased, and where I half ruined myself to-day. But who can resist flowers. and books?-Not I, I am sure.

I should as

Made the acquaintance of Walter Savage Landor, ten days ago, and have seen him nearly every day since. There are some people, and he is of those, whom one cannot designate as "Mr." soon think of adding the word to his name as, in talking of some of the great writers of old, to prefix it to theirs. Of Walter Savage Landor's genius, his

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Imaginary Conversations" had, previously to our meeting, left me in no doubt of the elevation of his mind, the nobleness of his thoughts, and the manly tenderness which is a peculiar attribute of superior men, and strongly characterises him, I had learned to form a just estimate; but the high breeding and urbanity of his manners, which are very striking, I had not been taught to expect; for those who spoke of him to me, although sincere admirers of his, had not named them. His avoidance of general society,

though courted to enter it, his dignified reserve when brought in contact with those he disapproves, and his fearless courage in following the dictates of a lofty mind, had somehow or other given the erroneous impression that his manners were, if not somewhat abrupt, at least singular. This is not the case, or, if it be, the only singularity I can discern is a more than ordinary politeness towards women-a singularity that I heartily wish was one no longer. The politeness of Landor has nothing of the troublesome officiousness of a petit-maître, nor the oppressive ceremoniousness of a fine gentleman of l'ancien régime; it is grave and respectful, without his ever losing sight of what is due to himself, when most assiduously practising the urbanity due to others. There is a natural dignity which appertains to him that suits perfectly with the style of his conversation and his general appearance. His head is one of the most intellectual ones imaginable, and would serve as a good illustration in support of the theories of phrenologists. The forehead broad and prominent; the mental organs largely developed; the eyes quick and intelligent; and the mouth full of benevolence. The first glance at Landor satisfies one that he can be no ordinary person; and his remarks convince one of the originality of his mind, and the deep stores of erudition treasured in it. It is not often that a man, so profoundly erudite as Landor, preserves this racy originality, which,—as the skins employed in Spain to contain wines impart a certain flavour to all that passes through them,-gives a colour to all that he has acquired. He reads of the ancients, thinks, lives

with, and dreams of them; has imbued his thoughts with their lofty aspirations, and noble contempt of what is unworthy; and yet retains the peculiarities that distinguish him from them, as well as from the common herd of men. These peculiarities consist in a fearless and uncompromising expression of his thoughts, incompatible with a mundane policy; the practice of a profuse generosity towards the unfortunate; a simplicity in his own mode of life, in which the indulgence of selfish gratifications is rigidly excluded; and a sternness of mind, and a tenderness of heart, that would lead him to brave a tyrant on his throne, or to soothe a wailing infant with a woman's softness. These are the characteristics of Walter Savage Landor, who may justly be considered one of the most admirable writers of his day, as well as one of the most remarkable and original men.

July.-Tired of Schneiderff's, with its perpetual bustle, and never-ending odour of soup, we have been so fortunate as to find a charming retreat in the Casa Pecori, on the Lung' Arno, formerly arranged as a maison de plaisance for Elise Bacciocchi, when Grand Duchess of Tuscany. Here she retired from the pomps and cares of royalty, to sip sorbetti, or enjoy the privacy of a petit-souper with a few confidential friends. It is thus ever that people seek enjoyment in a sphere which is not their ordinary one. Sovereigns delight in occasionally laying aside their grandeur in some less-glittering home than the palace, which seems so enviable a dwelling to all but them; while those not born to splendour imagine that, if in possession of it, happiness would be theirs. Alas! both are in

error. It is the heart and mind which constitute content-happiness is not for earth.

The Casa Pecori is small, but charmingly arranged: the principal rooms open to a terrace covered with orange-trees, with a delicious pavilion at the end, overlooking the Arno. Nothing can be prettier than this spot; and here we have decided on passing the sultry months of summer.

August. I enjoy our séjour here exceedingly. The mornings are devoted to the galleries, where an intimate acquaintance is formed with the best works of art, which, like those of nature, can only be appreciated by long and frequent study. Every day some fresh beauty of the old masters makes itself felt; and in contemplating their works, one can fancy oneself acquainted with the minds of those inspired painters of the olden time. It is delightful to pass whole hours lounging through apartments, the walls of which are glowing with landscapes, or forms divine, steeped in an atmosphere of beauty; but it is doubly delightful to have the rooms free from the herd of travellers, who rush from picture to picture, uttering, in audible tones, "the cant of criticism," acquired from some guide-book, or book of travels; without feeling the merits they praise, or the defects they censure. At this season, Florence is free from travellers; and this immunity constitutes one of its chief attractions in my eyes.

The evenings are passed in enjoying the delicious freshness of the Cascina, or in driving in the pleasant environs, until the shades of night send us home to enjoy iced tea and sorbetti in our charming pavilion

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