lic, and the confidence reposed, we would incline to allow him distinguished talents, yet the result of his campaigns have not been honourable to his repu tation, or advantageous to his country. We cannot therefore refrain from reflecting how much a seeming chain of accidents influences human affairs, and how frequently an elevated public character owes his emblazoned reputation, to what is called a fortunate concurrence of circumstances.

It seems a part of the French policy to ingratiate themselves with the subjugated people, by keeping alive a spirit of pleasure and gaiety. Balls and entertainments are therefore frequent at this palace. This is indeed a poor compensation for independence, but it is one of the most likely snares to entrap the higher classes, and encourages a dissipation of habit, which, if the French aim at universal conquest, best answers their purpose, Besides, the Italians are but too apt to fall victims to the danger that besets them. Their taste inclines to these pleasures, and when accompanied with regal splendour and all the "appliances" of a palace, I fear they will be too fascinating for their feeble resistance. One circumstance appeared to us too gross to be permitted, had we not afterwards learned that it was a prevailing custom throughout Italy--the kept mistress of the general made one in this brilliant party. She was remarkably beautiful, but dressed in a style too indecent to captivate. There is a something revolting to our old English ideas, in such a species of equality, and it proves that these democratic advocates are very far from that purity and virtue, which ought to be the companion of republicanism. Their readiness too, in occupying the palaces they capture, is of the same corrupt nature. There were many French ladies present, and the dresses and manners of all were so tainted by the fashions of Paris, that we might still have supposed ourselves in France.

We selected two or three other gentlemen from the party, whom with our friends, Monsieur Anette, and our two military acquaintances, we invited to dine with us on the following day, and we gave them a dinner in the Turin style, having given our Maitre d' hotel a carte blanche, on that occasion. The day afterwards we all dined with M. Anette, who resided in a detached part of the palace, in eastern magnificence; for all his rooms were rich with royal furniture. In the dining room, hung portraits as large as life, of the king and queen. He was so kind as to invite more friends to meet us, and several handsome, spirited, and sensible ladies; the evening passed away in songs and music. The most curious circumstance to remark, is, that their Gallic politeness insisted on our giving them the English "Rule Britannia," and "God save the King."

I cannot speak too highly of the unexpected civility at Turiu, and when we took leave, M. Auette requested us to open an epistolary correspondence. Our military friends to whom we were indebted for this introduction, were not less polite in accompanying us during the morning, to whatever was most worthy our curiosity at Turin. That city has little that is excellent in the arts to boast. The few pictures that were in the public buildings are now in the Paris collection. We saw the works of an ingenious sculptor in wood, but they are more curious than estimable. Having engaged the courier to Milan, we left Turin the next evening. To travel by night was contrary to our design, but there were no other means, except a tedious voitura, or kind of post coach which never changes horses, and with much effort makes thirty

miles per day; besides, the roads were extremely bad, and the whole country between the two cities level, and though rich, uninteresting. After having merely passed through the towns of Vercelli and Novara, we arrived at Milan the following evening, without having met with any occurrence worth recording, but not without having incurred imminent danger of being murdered and pillaged by a desperate band of robbers, who, we were informed at Milan, infested that road.

Intending to take Milan on our return, and making only a stay of one or two days, (which happily were the last days of the carnival, and the whole town from one end to the other, full of pantomimic actors), I shall defer my description of it until we have an opportunity of seeing it in its natural colours. Indeed the season still was very rainy here, and we pressed forward with all possible expedition, to a better climate. From hence to Florence, we therefore as it were, galloped through the cities, I shall briefly mention, in our road.-As far as Bologna, the whole country is plain, and although well tilled and productive, presents little diversity of scene. Bologna is the frontier town of the Italian republic, but I shall mention in order the towns we passed through, before we arrived there. The first, about sixteen miles from Milan, is the small neat town of Lodi, of memorable importance from the gallant action and victory obtained on its bridge by Bonaparte over the Austrians. The Adda flows under its walls. About twelve miles further, on the same river, which you there pass over a wooden bridge, (width, about equal to the Tyne at Newcastle), is the fortified town of Pizzhitigone. Cremona is the next populous town, which seems dull, poor and inactive. It disputes with Mantua the honour of being the birth place of Virgil, but does not attempt like Mantua to substantiate its claim by pointing out the spot where he was born. From thence to Mantua the roads continued to be bad, and so unequal that no carriage of English width, could pass them with safety. On approaching that city, we saw the marks left by the besiegers---raised redoubts,---entrenchments, and covered ways. On entering they were not less visible; the streets on that side of the town are a heap of ruins, and many years will be necessary to put them in their former state. Independently of the bombardment, the sufferings of the Mantuans during the siege, were almost incredible. Such was their want of provisions, that they ate many thousand horses, dogs, cats, rats, mice, and even snails were eagerly sought by the famished multitude. This city probably contained forty or fifty thousand of inhabitants, when in prosperity. The buildings are generally good; in the great square there is a crowd of fine edifices; the cathedral, the ci-devant palace, the offices of government, and the theatre.

We were shown the spot where they tell you Virgil received his birth. It is carefully preserved within a fence, and the sentinel near it did not permit us to enter it, as we were then at too late an hour. There were symptoms of a rising commerce at the port, which is a small convenient bay communicating with a lake, formed by the Mincio on the north-west side of the town, and furnishing a secure defence on that quarter. On the other side of the town, the raised fortifications are not surpassed in strength, by any in Europe. We slept at a most magnificent inn, formerly the palace of a nobleman, now degraded into the more useful purpose of a public hotel. The landlord here did not forget to make us pay for our splendour. The next morning we embarked

rowed down the

Our sailors fre

on board a kind of large punt, crossed the lake, and then Mincio, ten or twelve miles, to its confluence with the Po. quently pointed out, in passing, opposite banks, from which the armies had rallied each other. The whole of this course seems far wide of our destination, particularly the passage by water; but we were compelled to make this long detour in consequence of late inundations. Many miles of the post road on the banks of the Po had been carried away, and a large tract of country, nearly to the shores of Venice, overflowed, so that boats absolutely came across over the land instead of sailing up the channel of the river. When we had launched out into the Po, we heartily regretted the circumstance that made it necessary. This river, at all times violent, now rolled down with furious rapidity, and some wind rising against us, made our flat-bottomed boats, which occasionally dipped, uncomfortable and dangerous. The river was a mile wide, full of shoals, or rather moving banks of mud, which made it unnavigable, except to experienced sailors, that the risks we incurred, added to being completely wet by a severe rain, made this voyage of thirty or forty miles, the most unpleasant speculation we had made in the course of our tour. The country too on each side of the river is level, and offers scarcely an interesting prospect, except the distant view of the Alps. There are some villages or small towns on its shores, but we saw no place of consequence until we reached Ferrara, which stands in the plain, about six miles distant from the river. There we slept, but making no stay in the morning, we only saw the streets we passed through, which appeared to be respectably built. We had not crossed the plain more than six miles from Ferrara, before we found the road so intolerably bad, that we were literally fastened in the mire, and there might have remained until this time, had not twelve oxen been brought to our assistance, after waiting an hour or two. With this, I may call it, triumphant train, for we gained a victory over the road, after a most obstinate contest, we were dragged at the rate of a mile per hour, for half a day---not rolling on wheels, but sliding as on a sledge, for not a spoke of the wheels could be seen, and our carriage glided smoothly along on the axis and its body. As we approached the city of Bologna the roads gradually improved, and were kept up at a great expence. The lands on each side were farmed in a neat and complete manner. The soil appeared rich, and the climate milder. Vegetation, by the budding of the trees, was about a fortnight forwarder than at Turin.

Here first we came in view of the Appennines, which rise majestically behind the town, and are thickly studded with the villas of wealthy citizens, all along the lower ranges, from whence they command a fine view of the plains of the Po. We slept at Bologna, (after supping from sausages, for which their reputation has been long established); and strolled over the town which bears marks of antiquity, and former consequence. Almost all the streets are accommodated with porticoes, the houses are on a large scale, and there are some curious, as well as elegant. From our wish to reach Naples as expeditiously as possible, we had engaged ourselves from Milan by the Florence courier, and now regretted that we had not allowed ourselves more time to visit the objects of curiosity, in this old and respectable town; besides we have been since informed that two or three of the best pictures in Italy, are still at Bologna, The University used to be celebrated, and pains are now taking to re-establish it. The College of the Learned, being one of

the three estates recognised by the new Italian republic, holds its sittings here, It seems an inconvenient situation for the members, being not far distant from the frontiers, but imagine it was a compliment politically paid to this valuable acquisition. The Bolognese have been remarkable during the war, for their attachment to the democratic cause. Leaving this city, we rose immediately from the level into the Appennine Mountains, in which I may say we were enveloped all the way to Florence, The greater part of these little Alps is uncultivated, but frequently picturesque. As you approach Florence, within twenty or even thirty miles, you enter upon the olive plantations; still as you draw nearer, the cultivation becomes more and more beautiful, until you find the neighbourhood itself, a perfect garden. Every aspect of the little mountains is friendly to congenial fruits. The vine, the olive, the fig, and the mulberry, emulate each other to adorn this paradise. The country round Florence, is "the land flowing with oil and honey." Our intention was to have passed without delay, directly from Florence to Naples, but the impatience of curiosity would not permit us to leave Rome, without viewing those stupendous monuments of human genius and exertion, the pantheon, amphitheatre, and St. Peter's. I know not whether our eagerness was allayed or heightened by this first glance, such is the beauty, proportion, and grandeur of those masterpieces of architecture, but a cursory view was all we could suffer ourselves then to enjoy, and we immediately set out for Naples, where we arrived the 20th of March.

Notwithstanding the importance the French government now stamps on Paris; the delightful situation of Lyons, the compact regularity of Turin, the majestic beauties of Florence, or the modern elegances and sublime ruins of Rome, no town had presented to our notice such an interest as Naples. The first object that claims attention, is the crowded population in all the principal streets. A stranger on entering the city would naturally suppose it a day of great public rejoicing ; on our enquiry what drew together such mul· titudes of idle people, we were told, that the streets were always as thickly thronged in fine weather. I can give no better idea of their numbers than by comparing the whole width of the street with the foot pavements of Cheapside, with this difference, that they are not in such a busy, bustling state, many groups are standing, in a conversation circle, some (Lazzaroni) are lying under the walls of the houses at cards; stationary beggars are very numerous; parties are sitting before the doors of coffee-rooms, taking ices or waters; but we observed that no newspapers were permitted to be there: nine-tenths of the people in the streets are men. The women pass much of their time in the balconies, which are in the front of almost every window, The press of people in the grand square, and in the Toledo-street, is exceedingly inconvenient. Whenever a carriage passes, the crowd is compelled to recede on each side like water before a vessel. Although a very great majority of the street idlers is composed of the Lazzaroni, whose number is incalculable, and whose means of livelihood are totally unknown, yet you meet at every step, lawyers, priests, or friars. The former are distinguished by a peculiar dress not unlike the costume of our counsellors. Without including those employed on inferior business, they reckon four thousand regularly registered. Such a multitude argues some radical defect in the civil jurisprudence, but at the same time affords a presumptive proof of the opulence of

Naples. If the lower classes are to be reproached with indolence, they may shelter themselves under the example of the numerous priesthood, whose main employment appears to be in parading the public walks and streets, and couversing with the people, with whom they seem to be on easy and familiar terms. There are three hundred religious establishments in this city, and if superstition is accompanied with less splendour than at Rome, it operates more grossly on the Neapolitans. You are sure to see a saint at the corner of every street, before which all bow, and many stop to offer some solemn ejaculation; and every shop has its Jesus, or Mary, or guardian saint, with an ever-burning lamp before it. In spite of this awful presence, shopkeepers, we were informed, are not unfrequently detected in knavish dealings. I don't know that religion and inactivity are naturally connected, but I am sure that the ceremonious parade of the Catholic churches, as well as the monastic institutions, interrupt the pursuits of industry. This creates some difficulty in reconciling the commercial, enterprising, and opulent state of Italy, during several centuries, with the prevalence of that religion at the same period. We are however, compelled by facts to admit the truth of this, because we find almost all the noblest productions of art, directed, in those flourishing times, to grace and dignify the Roman Catholic establishments. If we see the arts reach an excellence which excites our admiration, is it not in support of their cause? Where do we find the most perfect architecture ?---In the cathedrals and churches. Where are the best paintings ?---There. What are the subjects?--Saints, Monks, and Miracles: and they have well answered the purpose of the priesthood---the most superb private palaces are now in possession of churchmen and cardinals, who still maintain their wealth and influence, in the decline of those powerful states. The only way in which I can solve the difficulty is, by admitting that the soil and climate of Italy, so congenial to population and subsistence, is capable of supporting with more facility a less active people, than the more western regions of Europe, or in other words, can maintain a larger portion of unproductive inhabitants.

The situation of Naples is not less peculiar than delightful. The body of the town lies immediately under a very steep and lofty mountain, which fronts the Campania Felix, and juts off to the right into the sea, terminating in an abrupt and picturesque rock, which seems to divide the greater part of the town from the lesser, on the side of Pausilippas. So that to a spectator in the bay at the distance of a mile, Naples stands on two semicircular bays. But I shall better describe this when I speak of Vesuvius. The streets of Naples are well built, the houses tall, the public buildings elegant and nu. merous, and the pavement in a superior style to that of any other in Europe, of large flat squares of lava, across the whole width of the street; the port and public walks along the bay are delightful, as well from the clear distinct view of the many grand and distant objects as from the refreshing air of the sea. The squares are spacious more than magnificent, the one with the royal palace in it is the most elegant. Here, Russian soldiers had their daily parade, and always mounted guard. How abject the condition of the prince, and how precarious and uneasy the tenure of his crown, when compelled to rest the safety of the state on a foreign army! Yet the political state of Naples, at least of the public mind, required this measure, and four thousand Russians have been garrisoned there, ever since the expulsion of the French. The