Bayard, no wonder we traversed the streets of Brescia with interest, amusing ourselves as we went on, by fancying every peculiarly noble-looking old mansion was the one honoured by the chevalier's presence. May even hazarded a conjecture, as to whether Bayard's fair young friends dressed their hair in the olden day as very unbecomingly, as did the Brescian ladies who passed us, in one large clumsy-looking plait, fastened with double-knobbed silver bodkins, which said knobs, sometimes elaborately filligreed, protruded most awkwardly an inch or more from each side of the head. Presently, May, gazing with entranced eye at a convent, by the roadside, and heedless of her way, stepped unadvisedly into a puddle. A young student, as we knew by his three-cornered cap, immediately crossed the road and assisted her out of the dilemma, in a manner so gentle and so respectful, that we could not but wish some of our English fashionables had been there, to take a lesson of politeness. Construing the girl's smiling thanks into tacit permission to continue her escort, he walked on with the party to the excavations; and there, bodkins, puddles, students, and even our dear Bayard, all were awhile forgotten, as we stood entranced before one of the most splendid specimens of ancient art that we had yet seen.—I knew not that it was the work of one of those glorious Greeks, the fathers of the imitative art,—perhaps of Phidias, or even Chares himself;-I knew not that it was considered by connoisseurs to be faultless in form, exquisite in expression;-I knew only, while looking on that ancient statue of Victory, that I experienced newer, loftier ideas of the dignity of virtue, of the

grace of severe beauty;-I felt only that, had I been a man, I could have died joyfully on the battle field, so had I only been assured that my name, too, should be inscribed on her shield. No wonder that Spartan mothers could educate their children to conquer or to die; no wonder that Spartan wives could bid their lords speed to the battle fray, and veil the silent agony with a smiling face, if such was the aspect victory wore, when throned among the lares of their hearts! These excavations were begun about six years since. A poor vine-dresser, digging his ground, found, first, a frieze, then a shattered column,-the fragment of a head; so at last, the field was bought, and excavations on a large scale were commenced.A temple (ruined, of course,) came to light: it had been dedicated to Hercules, and was burnt, it is supposed, about a century and a half before the birth of Christ. Some of the heads were very perfect, and the gilding on them scarcely injured by time. Among the exhumed treasures were some Mosaic pavement; stones inscribed with the names of Domitian, Augustus, and Severus; some medals and heads of the Roman emperors; traces of the spot whereon the doors had stood, and of the square enclosure wherein the priests examined the victims, might be distinctly seen-they had also raised a modern altar, on the spot where they imagined the old one to have been placed; but this was an instance of bad taste, rather uncommon in the Italians.

The road was pretty from Brescia to Verona, running along the foot of the Apennines, and diversified with troops of soldiers, bands of friars, market-women laden with fruit and flowers, little carriages, just

large enough to hold one person,—which St. Roy said might, with some propriety indeed, be termed boudoirs-peasants, &c., till at last we reached Verona.

The Coliseum stands in the heart of the city, and is far more perfect than the one at Rome; but four arches of the outer wall remain; the inner walls are untouched by time. Of course we entered, and mounted the marble steps. As we stood on the broken and rugged wall, now overgrown with grass and wild flowers, and looked down from thence over the city of Verona, rich in many touching remembrances,—then around at the countless spires, and afar off, at the blue and snow-capped Alps in the distance, talking all the while of Roman heroes and gladiators of Byron and of Shakspeare, realizing, as it were, by our actual presence, the existence of one lofty memento of the brave, proud people who have passed away, we could not but acknowledge this day to be a day to be held in remembrance, as one that should stand out in distinct relief from the sameness and weariness of life.

It is amusing to observe the different trains of thought excited in different minds by the same object. Sir Mark set down carefully in his pocket-book the guide's information,—that the amphitheatre contains forty-five ranges of seats; that they will accommodate twenty-two thousand spectators; and that the outer wall is 1290 feet in circumference:-also, he noted that a bull-baiting was exhibited here, in honour of the Emperor Joseph, by the governor and people, when a Roman emperor was again hailed in a Roman amphitheatre with the titles of Cæsar and Augustus. This must have been an imposing sight; yet less so

than when, still more recently, the Pope, passing through Verona, was implored to bless the people; and the multitude, flocking in from the neighbouring provinces, collected in the amphitheatre, as the most spacious place of rendezvous, and prostrated themselves there before him. Our guide professed to remember this circumstance, but he could not recollect the name of the Pope, or the year in which it took place.

All this while Harry was repeating earnestly to Violet, who listened quite as earnestly, those few exquisite lines, in which Byron throws in the last finishing touches to the personification of the Gladiator; while St. Roy was trying to persuade himself and May, that he could distinguish the very spot in one of the dark gorges of the Alps, inhabited by that interesting remnant of the Cimbri and Teutones, who still fondly retain the tradition of their origin and the language of their forefathers. These tribes came from the northern Chersonesus, and invaded Italy in 640; they were defeated and almost extirpated, by Marius, near Verona; and the few who escaped formed a tiny colony, which, from its poverty and insignificance, has eluded the notice of the contending parties who have desolated Italy for nearly two thousand years. I would willingly have accompanied St. Roy to visit these living mementoes of the olden day :-talk of being old-fashioned; here would be a delightful specimen of venerable antiquity!

Verona is built on the Adige, which divides it into two equal parts: it is situated at the foot of the Alps, at the southern opening of the great defile through Rhetia. It has ever been exposed to the first fury of

the ultra-montane invaders; but it seems to have suffered less than many other cities, its beauty having served it, as beauty very seldom does serve, as a defence; for many of its conquerors, from Theodoric down to Frederic II., delighted with its aspect, or struck by its situation, have resided here, and ornamented the city.

It is rich in having been the birth-place of talent,— Catullus, Cornelius Nepos, Pliny the Elder, and Vitruvius were born here. Here too, for a time at least, Dante, immortal Dante resided, under the patronage of Can Grande della Scala. The anecdote recorded of Dante's spirited indignation at a low practical jest of his patron, gives us unwittingly a curious insight into the manners of that day, in one of the most polished cities in polished Italy: "The little boy placed by the jester under the table, to gather all the bones that were thrown down upon the floor by the guests," &c.

On we went from Verona the ancient, through Vicenza the beautiful.- Palladio !-that one word is sufficient to give you an idea of its beauty. Passing on our way fragments of arches, broken temples, houses adorned with statues until we reached Padua the learned; from whence, my dear Minna, I send you this packet. Handle it carefully; break the seal with due reverence, although you never broke seal of mine reverently before; for the very Paduan paper and pens have an air and an aspect that savour of science! However, you need not be too much alarmed,-I am scribbling with one of my own grey goose quills.

Padua is a grand city,-a very grand city; every house looks like a school, and every palazzo like an