of the sewing together, compare one bonnet with another, and ask every question, and pay every compliment we could devise. During all this trifling, it might have done many maids and matrons of all countries good, to see with what unaffected modesty these girls behaved. There was no coquetry, no pretence of suspicion at what the strange gentlemen might mean, and yet no gravity. They talked, and smiled, and looked up from their work, with the same ease and unconsciousness of impropriety as if they regarded us as their brothers, and so we were. At the eighteenth mile-stone we arrived at the city of Barberino. I have seen many an insignificant place in Italy, enclosed in walls, and dignified by the name of city, but this outdoes them all. You may walk from one gate to the other, passing the church, the house of the podestà, and the barber's shop, well nigh before you draw a second breath. Every body was abroad, perhaps some twenty folk, staring at the strangers. Here, with much satisfaction, I make known a scheme I have hit upon for the benefit of gentlemen of a small independence, who are tormented by a desire to cut a figure in the world. If they reside in large and wealthy towns, the attempt to succeed is generally abortive, or ends in an unpleasant retirement under lock and key. Let them, such is my advice, settle in one of these petty Italian cities-Barberino for instance-where, with an income of about a hundred crowns, a gentleman might, in his comparative elegant style of living, lord it over his neighbours as much as any lord in London, and in fact be the Prince Esterhazy at the court of the podestà.

The sun hid his head, and we became ashamed of our loitering; so we stepped briskly on, in love with the scene around us. We had for a long time bade farewell to the olives and vines of the Valdarno; and the change from farms like garden-grounds to an open and varied country of wood, meadows, and cornfields, delighted us extremely. At last we saw the town of Poggibonsi, where we knew there was a good inn, and which was therefore to be the end of our day's journey, We had walked four and twenty miles, quite enough for pleasure; and sixteen more would bring us into Siena on the following day. Poggibonsi is a considerable country-town, and flourishes with its manufactures. This is the last resting-place for travellers in the vettura from Rome to Florence they are five days and a half on the road, drawn by the same horses that never can be prevailed upon to exceed four miles an hour,—a tedious mode of travelling, you will say ; but it affords the advantages of seeing the country at leisure, and of walking as much as you like without running the risk of being left behind.

We rose early the next morning, and found the country enveloped in a thick fog, which in about half an hour gave token of a hot day; for it rose steadily and vanished quickly, leaving us without a cloud in the heavens. The landscape still continued to enchant us, and we fell into conversation upon the difference of scenery in Italy and England, each of us advocating the superiority of one country over the other. can take which side of the argument you please. It began with the provoking exclamation of" Well, there is nothing to equal this view in all England!"

You

"Indeed! I rather think nine-tenths of England are more beautiful than any part of Italy. What is there here to repay us for the loss of our fields and meadows enclosed in hawthorn, the little pathways that VOL. X. No. 59.-1825.

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cross them, and their neat rustic stiles at each end, our noble foresttrees, copse-wood, and shady lanes? Then call to mind the simple, yet picturesque appearance of our thatched cottages, our farm-houses, their quiet homesteads, and the air of comfort that is spread around them. Have I said enough? or must I compare our clear and sparkling brooks and rivers with the turbid waters of Italy, and the muddy Tyber and Arno ?”

"If an enclosed country is your choice, you ought to be content with the poderi around Florence."

"Where we have the olive, a mockery of foliage, a tree cut in paper, that comes upon our imagination, with its livid green, like the ghost of an ugly gigantic myrtle; fruit-trees pruned and trimmed; and vines that must not grow in any way than for profit. You may walk in a poderi, and look about in vain for shade; no tree is permitted to attain its natural growth, lest the fruit should lose its sunny flavour."

"Yet how elegant are those festoons of the vine! It is true they are pruned for the sake of the grape, but they are managed in a far worse manner, for the eye's delight, in France."

"I am not speaking of France. I speak only of Italian poderi, and if you have any thing to say in their favour, I am ready to listen to it." "Nothing farther than that I have passed many pleasant hours in them, before sunrise and towards night-fall; and I believe the reason why I felt happy in them was owing to a disposition to regard every thing for its own worth. I never object to a garden because it is not a forest, no more than to a bird because it is not a beast or a fish. You cannot however complain of want of shade in this part of Tuscany : for here are tall trees enough, and, if my eyes do not deceive me, all of them oaks."

"Yes, they are oaks, but how unlike the "unwedgeable and gnarled" ones of the north? These have no wide-spreading boughs, no fulness of leaf, no sturdy trunks. ed plants by the name of oaks? lady's boudoir.”

And must we call these attenuatThey are more like geraniums in a

"This is too much. They are handsome trees, though they may not afford good timber. In these valleys, owing to the long-continued summer-heats, and the alluvial soil, the oak is certainly of too quick a growth; but upon the hills, where the temperature is cooler, and where it meets with a different soil, it attains even to your English perfection."

"Perhaps so; but if we climb the hills, we shall at least lose the present scene, which you are inclined to praise so much."

"Then to the scene before us. Your objection to it as an open country is in the spirit of John Bullism. Because the greater part of England is enclosed, you would have every country the same; yet a Scotchman would not thank you for intersecting with hedge-rows the beautiful plain round Perth, which has been truly likened to an Italian landscape; nor would any sort of enclosure be suitable to the character

of this scenery. Observe the graceful composition of outline, its gentle undulations, so varied and so harmonious, and its well-wooded hills, backed by the lofty Apennines. Every thing here bears the stamp of classic ground,-ground trod by Fauns and Dryads. In England the character of the landscape is totally different; it has the look of com

fort and home-feeling, and boasts of its Robin Goodfellow and his train of household fairies. The question of which of the two countries possesses the finer scenery is a matter of taste, which cannot well be decided on, either by an Englishman or an Italian, as each will be swayed by early associations, if not governed by national prejudice. Still there is one tolerable criterion. National prejudices are not apt to cling about us when we look at works of art. Compare the landscapes of Claude and Poussin with those of Gainsborough and Morland; then you must confess."

"No, I will not consent that such painters shall in any way be compared together."

"I mean the subjects of their paintings, not the paintings themselves. But if you consider that is unfair, look at the works of Turner, and tell me which are the superior ones,-those of real English scenery, or those where he has profited by his visit to Italy."

"Le roi s'avisera. In the mean time you must bear in mind that I have been talking here at a considerable disadvantage, in the midst of a scene that I acknowledge to be very fine for Italy, without bringing to your recollection some one in England of peculiar beauty, and without a word about our romantic lakes and mountains in Cumberland and Westmoreland."

"Very true; nor have I alluded to the bay of Naples, or the falls at Terni. As for romantic mountains, if the banditti would allow us to visit Calabria, I have little doubt but that we should find some equal, if not superior, even to the Highlands of Scotland."

We had passed through Staggia, a little walled city like Barberino, only a little larger; and we saw another of the same sort, upon a hill `to the left, that bore the appearance of an old miserable prison. We then stopped at a kind of half-way house, where it was impossible to withstand the killing intentions of our landlady, not kindly killing towards ourselves, as any lady's ought to be, but with malice prepense against her pigeons and chickens; for she insisted upon it we should be the better for an early dinner, though at an hour when most persons would call it an early breakfast. This was only the second of May, and it seemed to be picked out of the middle of July. I never found myself under a more scorching sun; it was dangerous to proceed; so unwilling to remain housed in a paltry inn, we turned off from the road into the depths of a shady wood, and there lolled upon grass, and chatted the time away till the afternoon.

the

The last five miles were not equal to the former part of our journey, though we agreed there were many pleasant walks in the neighbour hood of Siena. Being holiday, the Sienese were sallying forth in their best clothes for an evening stroll, and we met many lovely faces under large straw bonnets. The women are famed for their beauty, their elegant style of walk, their good nature and politeness, and the purity of their pronunciation; all this is unquestionable, while scandal adds they have, generally speaking, bad teeth. I remarked that both sexes, young and old, bear a strong family likeness; with small neat features, bright eyes, and mouths of a peculiarly straight and defined cut. They have an air of cleverness, with a lurking expression of cunning; perhaps they are more ingenious than ingenuous, not their fault cer

tainly, for an Italian is forced into a life of subterfuge. Yet their faces are lighted up by a glad feeling, and, allowing the accusation against them of voluptuousness, I maintain it is of the lively and not the languid cast; at any rate I saw nothing resembling the stamp of sensuality. Their forms are light and graceful, a little approaching to the dapper; and there are very few among them that incline to unwieldiness of person, so common in Florence and Genoa. In the evening we visited the coffee-houses, ate our ices, and wandered about the streets, which were full of well-dressed persons, enjoying the freshness of the air, and listening to the groups of singers and musicians.

Now having brought you into Siena, perhaps I have done enough. You have so many accounts of Italy, in travels, tours, letters, sketches, and guide-books, that you ought to be acquainted with our principal cities, as well as a gentleman of the west end is with London within the walls. I shall therefore not enter into particulars; you will surely be satisfied with the result of my immediate impressions.

Siena is not a place I would choose for a residence, though there are two essential points in its favour,—it is kept clean, and the people appear civil and good-tempered. As the houses, and most of the palaces, are built of brick, some the worse for plaister, and some of the plaister the worse for age, this city has a shabby appearance; and its style of architecture is antique without being venerable. Several of the palaces are in a sadly dilapidated condition, or turned into public offices. The Piazza del Campo is the grand square; it contains five or six palaces that once belonged to their proud nobility, and the Palazzo Publico, where they held their republican senate. I cannot settle in my mind whether I was pleased with this square owing to its actual appearance, or to the historical recollections connected with it. The ground of the city being irregular, none of the streets run in a direct line, and all of them are on the ascent or the descent; so much so, that many of the lanes are formed of flights of stairs. We visited the Academy of Fine Arts, where there is not a single picture of excellence to awaken the ambition of the students. There the same remorseless system of teaching is carried on as in every other part of Italy. I hope the professor will pardon me for not admiring his paintings, when I confess myself blind to the merits of Benvenuti of Florence, or Camuccini of Rome. Siena can boast of little else than its cathedral. With the exception of the front, I cannot praise the taste shown on the exterior; the belfry is contemptible, and the squat cupola an offence. The interior, in spite of its chequered work of black and white marble, and its ugly portraits of a line of popes, is, in one sense, a perfect work; insomuch as we see every intention fulfilled. It is of singular richness, crowded with ornaments, from the painted and gilded roof down to the elaborate pavement. The spirit of decoration is carried to so high a pitch, that in the insides of the marble basins for the holy water, there are sundry sorts of carved fishes, with eels wriggling up the sides. One of these basins rests on an antique tripod, with basreliefs of heathen deities, and those who think it worth while, may take advantage of the allegory. The greater part of the pavement, by Domenico Beccafumi, preserved by a flooring which is raised up piece-meal for a stranger's admiration, surpasses all of priestly gorgeousness. There are designs of the utmost style, spirit, and power of

drawing; and the effect is produced by no more than a black outline on inlaid marble, of white and one or two shades of grey. I pass by the marble pulpit of Giovanni di Pisa, with its rich balustrade to the stairs, as their costly work would demand too long a description; and lead you into a large apartment called the library-by courtesy, for it contains no other books than a few illuminated missals. This library has its walls adorned by fresco paintings, representing the life of Æneas Sylvius, afterwards Pope Pius III. It is said Raphael gave designs for all of them, and that he really executed the first, which indeed is worthy of him in his early days; and that the remainder are by the hand of Pintorecchio. For my part, putting controversy at defiance, I believe Raphael did give designs for some of them; and, in this faith, I regarded them with the greatest interest. I was astonished at their freshness of colour, especially in the one ascribed to Raphael; it looks as if his hand had not quitted it longer ago than yesterday,—it makes him our contemporary. B