274

A MUSICAL PEOPLE.

port, with its fine harb or and inland canal. I was pleased with the appearance of the women of Leghorn, enveloped in their white lace veils, which seem the general costume of the middle and lower classes. Being Carnival, too, we saw some amusing groups in the streets. Men and women dress themselves in all kinds of fantastic habiliments, and with masques over their faces, go about playing tricks upon their acquaintances. And they may do or say what they please in this disguise; no one has a right to take offence. Even children play their part. We saw some not more than six years old, dressed like little clowns or harlequins-high steeple-crowned paper hats as tall as themselves, ornamented with gay ribbands and tinsel, with particolored clothes, gave them a ludicrous appearancc.

We arrived at Leghorn about four in the afternoon, and had time to see the most interesting portions of the city; and it was well we did; for notwithstanding the lady moon looked so saucily in my face, that I was obliged to rise in the night, and darken the windows, when we awoke in the morning, it was raining, and continued pouring in torrents, all day till our return to Pisa.

I think the Pisans a remarkably musical people; for we remarked, during our ramble through the city, wherever there were a number working, they were singing. At one place, we stopped before the door of a factory, attracted by the music of the workmen within, and remained listening, till they finished their song. And now some one is passing, trolling one of those delightful Swiss-like airs, full of sudden, changing intonations. Indeed, all seem to sing, as they walk in numbers or alone.

We left Pisa at an early hour in the morning, and cast a long, lingering, and delightful gaze upon its Duomo, Baptistry and tower, as we passed through the massive gateway of its old walls, probably for ever. Our road to-day has been

through portions of Tuscany, Lucca, Modena, and Piedmont, four different governments, and of course, as many custom-houses, which are usually the bug-bears of travellers. We have hitherto escaped marvellously; though to-day we had some little annoyance on account of some Constantinople tobacco, for which Mr. C. was obliged to pay three times its cost, rather than give it up, after bringing it thus far. Although it has been all day cloudy and some times rainy, I have enjoyed the ride exceedingly. We had a carriage called here a bagatello, similar to our cabs, except that the sides and fronts are all of glass, calculated for two only, and drawn by one horse. We left Pisa at half-past seven, and arrived at Sarzanna, where we are now, at half-past four--nearly fifty miles-only changing horses once.

We passed through the same beautiful paradise of a country as I described between Florence and Pisa; but this bordering on the Mediterranean on the south, and sheltered by the range of the Appenines on the north. The grass was more green, and all things more verdant. This range was not sufficiently high to be covered with snow, like those near Florence; but were cultivated to the very tops. Groves of olive fringed their summits, and the beautiful pine-tree, with its soft lively green foliage, contrasted well with the tall, dark and stately cypress that made here and there a long dark line from the base to the summit of the hills. The sides were terraced and planted with various things, and the roadside was lined with tall trees, with the luxuriant vine trained from one to the other in diamonds, circles and a variety of other forms. In the valleys were pretty villages, each with their extensive groves of orange and lemon trees laden with their golden fruit; sometimes the trees were trained against the sides of the houses, looking very tempting; but the oranges here are of an inferior kind, more pleasant to the eye than the taste. Here and there, too, the hill-tops

were surmounted with a city, a proud palace, or lonely villa ; and occasionally a ruined castle or fortress of the olden time, frowned upon us with its once threatening but now harmless battlements. Sometimes the olive groves on either side the road were so thick as to make it dark like twilight; and underneath them, were groups of women and children gathering the olives from the ground; for this seems to be the harvest of the olives. And here, instead of plaiting straw, you would see the women walking along, or standing together chatting, some knitting, others spinning (street yarn ?) not with the wheel as with us or the Dutch, which would require them to be stationary; but in a more primitive manner, with the distaff of flax in one hand, and the spindle in the other. This last they let fall, giving it a twirl at the same time, and thus continue drawing out the flax, and twisting as they go along. It seems very simple and easy; and even children of six years old, spin in the same way, though of a coarser kind. We passed through the town of Carrara, and saw the mountains and quarries from whence they procure the beautiful white marble for statues. peeped into many of the studios, and saw statues in every stage of progress, as we passed through the main street of the town.

We

I take my leave of you now in the "city of palaces," Genoa, of which I will give you some account in my next. For the present, Adieu.

MARITIME ALPS-CORNICE, OR MOUNTAIN ROAD OF NICENICE-TOULON-ITS HARBOR AND NAVAL DEPOT-MARSEILLES-ENTRY INTO SPAIN.

MY DEAR BROTHER :--To-day is our little C's birthday, and we have been thinking and talking of him, of you, and of all at home. How do you like college life? Do you have many sprees, or kick up any rows? Too much of a student for that, I trow. Well, go on, and prosper, my dear boy, and may all go well with you, and as merry as a "Christmas bell." You are often in our thoughts, one and all, when passing along through these lovely scenes. The eye dwells with delight upon the beauties of Nature, but the thoughts are sometimes far from the scenes we are rolling by. It was thus during our ride from Genoa to Nice, (where I am writing at this present,) a ride of three days, and through some of the most charming scenes the imagination can conceive. The road itself, a master-work of man, calls forth at every step, wonder and admiration. It was made by Napoleon, and is called the "Cornice of Nice;" more properly I think, the "Cornice of the Maritime Alps." How nobly has that great man left the impress of his mighty hand through every country that he made his own. Not in columns, statues, triumphal arches, or trophies of his martial deeds alone, but in such stupendous works of utility as will last till the countries will have ceased to exist, or so long as the mountains themselves endure! Had he contented himself with the first, they would have been long ago destroyed by those who rose with the turn of the wheel that

crushed at once him and his greatness, though not his glory. This road is like a shelf cut in the mountain, midway be. tween the summit and the base; and though carried thus along the brow of the Alps, it is as smooth as a garden walk. You have all the way, the sea on one hand, and the mountain on the other, for a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, winding round the many bays, inlets and promontories of the Mediterranean's crooked shores. Every sheltered nook or rocky cliff has its town or village, tower or fortress. At one time, you are on the brink of an awful precipice, so steep that you may drop a biscuit into the waves below; then you descend, and drive awhile along the smooth, sandy beach, where the waves with their snowy crests are rolling towards you, bringing from old ocean's bed their spoil of sand and pebbles, and casting them at your

feet

"And the blue-lipped wave steals up the beach,

Its red, polluted sand to bleach."

And the sea is such a lovely blue, and the glorious sunrise, too, seen from these rocky heights! We gain this at least from the early hours required by our vetturino. One morning, in particular, a long line of clouds rested upon the water, along the horizon. Out of these issued the glorious orb, tinging all with a golden hue, and casting a blaze of living light across the sea. Here and there arose a mass of clouds, and bending forward toward the sun, seemed to be doing homage to the king of day, and he, seemingly pleased with their respectful adoration, smiled like a benignant sovereign upon all.

The first day, we passed through the extensive tunnels, cut through rock that seemed of the hardest granite. In some places, a huge slice had been taken out of the mountajn, allowing the road to pass, leaving a steep, smooth wal] of rock on either side, displaying stratum after stratum, each