neglect of the beautiful specimens of it here, goes far to prove the contrary.

It

17th. Saw the church of St. Etienne to-day. contains an inimitable picture, the joint labor of Rafaele and Julio Romano; the upper part being by the former, and the lower by the latter master. This justly celebrated picture occupied a distinguished place in the Louvre during the dynasty of Napoleon, that most successful, but unscrupulous collector of modern times; who, if he gave cause of complaint to other nations, by his unceremonious appropriation of their most rare and costly works of art, at all events thereby rendered Paris a focus of attraction to the rest of the world. His subjects, while viewing with exultation the magnificent pictures in the gallery of the Louvre, were not disposed to not disposed to question the means by which it was enriched:-nay, I believe, that considering them to be won by the right of conquest, they were regarded with an increased pleasure, as trophies of their prowess, and consequently, a peculiar subject of national complacency. But to return to the picture: the figure of St. Etienne, who is represented kneeling, with the head turned upwards, and the eyes fixed on the sky, has an expression of resignation and piety, triumphing over physical suffering, that is admirably portrayed, and finely contrasted with the violent gestures and furious countenances of the figures who surround him. The head of the Saviour is full of majesty and beneficence; but the clouds in which he is enthroned, and which divide the upper section of the picture from the lower one, are too dark for the general effect. The cherubim supporting the clouds give a theatrical air to the whole, and impair the beauty of it so much, that one cannot help wishing that it had been divided into two pictures. I do not mean that I desire that it were cut into two; though if even this hazardous act were perpetrated, two admirable pictures might be obtained in the lieu of one imperfect one: but I do wish that Rafaele had finished his portion without the introduction of that by Julio Romano; whose work by itself, would have been a noble one. In its present

form, it is but too evident that two hands and two minds have been employed upon it; and this discordant union considerably detracts from the perfect harmony of the whole. The church of St. Etienne contains some other pictures; but the painting I have noticed prevents one from looking at them.

Rode out with Lord Byron and Comte Pietro Gamba. Byron's is one of the most sensitive minds I have ever encountered; tremblingly alive to the censure or opinions of persons for whom he entertains little respect, and less regard; yet, though desirous to be popular, incapable of making those sacrifices to conciliate public opinion, without which it can never be acquired. When reminded by some malevolent paragraph in a newspaper, or by some of the many injudicious friends, from which few are so fortunate as to be exempt, that he has incurred blame, he writhes under the censure, and fancies he avenges it by affecting a display of recklessness-nay, of far greater errors than he ever committed.

18th. Went over the church of St. Lorenzo to-day; but did not see the celebrated Sacro Catino which it contains, as the key of the armoire that holds this treasure was not forthcoming. It is said to be a plate composed of one single emerald, considered to be the largest ever seen; and to have served the Saviour at the Last Supper. Queen Sheba is reported to have presented it to Solomon. The Sacro Catino was taken by the crusaders when they conquered Palestine in the twelfth century; and when the plunder was divided, this supposed valuable prize fell to the lot of the Genoese. It was estimated so highly that, in an emergency, it was pawned for no less a sum than nine thousand five hundred pounds; and, when redeemed, was placed in the charge of a guard of honor, named Clavigeri. It was exhibited once a year before hundreds of prostrate devotees; and any person hardy enough to profane it by a touch was sentenced to a forfeiture of a thousand ducats in gold. The French did far more than profane this sacred gem with a touch, for they transported it to Paris, with the daring intention of selling it. But,

alas! it passed not unblemished the ordeal of a laboratory: on scientific examination it was proved to be a piece of glass, instead of a pure and matchless emerald. When Genoa fell to the lot of Victor Emanuel, and restitution became the order of the day, his Sardinian Majesty strenuously reclaimed his Sacro Catino; and, on receiving it, restored it to all its ancient honors, solemnly assuring its adorers that it was the real, true, genuine, and inestimable emerald; sinking the history of its mineralogical examination at Paris, any hint of which would incur the penalty of excommunication at Genoa. Oh! fie, Queen

Sheba! how could you have been so dishonest as to have presented a piece of glass instead of an emerald to your admirer King Solomon? And you, O wise king! great trader with Ophir for "almug trees and precious stones," how chanced you to be such a bad judge of the latter as to be so completely the dupe of your regal flirt? Strange to say, the sacred use to which people here believe this Sacro Catino was appropriated at the Last Supper does not invest it with sufficient value in their eyes, unless the intrinsic estimation of its being an emerald is added! The meek and lowly Saviour required not the costly luxuries in which his followers delight. Would that, in all, they emulated his example.

19th. Saw the church of St. Ambrose to-day. It is a fine structure, and has no less than seven cupolas; one large, in the centre, and three smaller ones on each side. The church is richly decorated with the rarest marbles, a profusion of gilding; and nothing can exceed the beauty of the paintings of the cupolas and ceiling. This church contains two pictures from the pencil of Rubens and one -the Assumption of the Virgin-by Guido Reni; the latter is greatly admired, and has twenty-six figures, well painted; but the shadows are too heavy and exaggerated to please me. Over one of the altars in this church, we noticed a figure of the Virgin, attired in the most outré style imaginable: her robes formed of flowered brocade and tissue, and her throat encircled by a rich coral necklace; her breast is pierced by no less than eight steel

swords, and there is a mixture of horror and folly in the whole figure that renders it painful to be looked at.

On the same altar is a large glass case containing an image representing Christ as an infant, the size of life, reclining in a sort of bed, composed of the most gaudy materials. A very fine lace cap and robe adorns this image, and a coverlet of cloth of gold falls over the bed. Nothing but a coral and bells is wanting to complete the representation of the infant heir of some wealthy house; yet this is the profane likeness of the meek and lowly Jesusthe blessed infant born in a stable, and who lived a model of humility!

Genoa contains no less than thirty-eight churches, most of them decorated in the richest style, and many ornamented with good pictures and statues. To recapitulate them would only be to describe columns, friezes of marble, alti and bassi rilievi, statues, pictures, and mosaic and tesselated pavements. The greater number of the statues are from the chisel of Puget, and some of them have merit; although, as a sculptor, his excellence lay in colossal figures, rather than in those of moderate size.

None

20th.-Confined to my room with a severe headach; so was compelled to send an excuse to Mr. Hill. of my party will go to dine with him, because I cannotan amiable attention on their part that I could well dispense with; for I am incapable of deriving pleasure from their society, being as unable to converse as to listen to conversation, while my headach continues. Oh! the misery of a bad headach, that resists the application of Hungary water to the temples, the pungent odor of salts, and cups of green tea and strong coffee!

All these have I tried in vain, and the less gentle remedies of Dr. Alexander have been equally inefficacious. A lady once told me that the only use of which she found her head was, that it furnished her with an excuse for not doing anything she disliked; as the assertion that it ached relieved her from importunities. An ill-natured acquaintance added, sotto voce, that her friends would never have discovered that she had a head were it not for her con

tinual complaints of the sufferings it caused her. The malady itself, however, disagreeable as it is, draws with it many other disagreeables: such as friends who propose infallible remedies, all of which have been previously tried without producing relief; friends who pity, and suggest the necessity of the quiet and repose which they preclude by their presence; or friends who tell one that it is useless to give way to headache; that Lady this, or Mrs. that, invariably conquers it, by air, exercise, and cheerful society. Then the doctors, who disagree as to the source of the malady, one insisting that the disease proceeds from the stomach, and another who maintains that it is purely nervous; while the unhappy victim wishes that one or both of the M. D.'s had all the pain she is enduring inflicted on their own craniums, that they might be more capable of judging its miseries.

Not the least annoyance occasioned by disease is the being reminded by friends of the imprudence that led to it. One is sure to be told that it proceeds from over exercise or the want of it; from an insufficiency, or an excess of, sustenance; from too late hours, or too much sleep. In short, all one's habits, however temperate, and all one's pursuits, however rational, are scrupulously brought up in judgment against the unhappy sufferer; and each and all, positive, and negative, are pronounced to be equally highly calculated to induce the malady in ques

tion.

21st.-Dr. Alexander told me to-day that Lord Byron has injured his constitution so much by the excessive use or abuse, of medicine, that were any illness to assail him he would soon sink under it. What a strange infatuation! originating, I am convinced, in the anxious desire to be thin. It is this desire that prompts him to pursue a regime suited only to the ascetic habits of an anchorite, while he daily undergoes the acute pangs of hunger. And this is the man who is believed by the world to be a voluptuary, sunk in the thraldom of sensual gratifications! How little is he really known! But thus it is ever: the world is more prone to jude harshly than justly; and a continua