perishing memorials, to look out on the unchanged aspect of Nature, on which his eyes have doubtless often dwelt. Here, I reflected on the wisdom that led the poet to abandon the homage offered to him in the crowded haunts of men, and in the intoxicating atmosphere of courts, for the tranquil and homely dwelling in which I was seated, where his mind, free from interruption, could yield to those habits of contemplation and study in which he so much loved to indulge.

I remembered a passage in one of his letters, in which he reverts with complacency to his mode of existence at Arqua. "I think, I read, and I write; hence my life and amusements are like those enjoyed in my youth: I find that, notwithstanding I have studied so many years, I have still much to acquire. I envy no one, and know not hatred. In my early days, with the folly and presumption peculiar to inexperience, I undervalued others, and overrated myself; but now, in old age, if I despise the world, I still more depreciate myself. I think only of those I love, and desire nothing but to die with piety and honour. I dread many domestics; and would have none, if my infirmities did not compel me. In my little dwelling on the Euganean hills, I hope to pass my remaining days in quiet, thinking ever of my dead and absent friends."

In the room in which I sat was this letter written, the substance of which my memory has retained: and in it also was the calm evening of Petrarch's life brought to its close. It was here that he wrote the Treatise on Government, which among many compliments to him for whom it was meant, contained none so striking as that implied by the frankness with which he hinted at his faults. It was here, too, he was often visited by Francesco Carrara, Lord of Padua, to whom the treatise was addressed, and who loved to retire from the toils of state to philosophise with his beloved friend Petrarch.

The terms of friendship on which Petrarch lived with many of the most illustrious and remarkable men of his time, reflect even less credit on him than on those who were capable of appreciating his noble qualities. But it was not alone with the great that he maintained friendships. What can be more gratifying than to reflect on the long and uninterrupted attachment that subsisted between him and Boccacio; so different from the temporary liaisons, broken by jealousies and embittered by envy, which exist between authors in our days.

It was only a short time previous to the death of Petrarch,

that the "Decameron" fell into his hands, for Boccacio, though on terms of such cordial affection with him, forbore from mentioning this work; doubtlessly because he deemed that the licentious freedom of some portion of it might have been displeasing to his friend. How kind is the letter he sent to Boccacio after the persual of it-the last letter he ever wrote. I thought of it as I looked round the chamber in which it was written, a chamber that was to me invested with the sacredness of a sanctuary, when I reflected on the kindly affections indulged in, and the peaceful life passed here by him who breathed his last sigh within its humble walls.

By how many poets has this last dwelling of Petrarch been visited. Alfieri recorded his pilgrimage to it by a beautiful sonnet written in the album kept in the house, of which the following is a faithful transcript:

O Cameretta, che gia in te chiudesti

Quel grande alla cui fama è augusto il mondo,

Quel gentile d'amor mastro profondo

Per cui Laura ebbe in terra onor celesti.

O di pensier soavemente mesti

Solitario ricovero giocondo!

Di che lagrime amare il petto inondo
In veder che ora innonorato resti!
Prezioso diaspro, aguta, ed oro
Foran debito fregio e appena degno
Di rivestir si nobile tesoro.
Ma no; tomba fregiar d'uom ch' ebbe regno
Vuolsi, e por gemme ove disdice alloro :
Qui basta il nome di quel Divo Ingegno.

The tomb of Petrarch stands in the churchyard at Arqua. It is of marble, simple and unpretending in form, placed on four columns, and bears the following inscription:

Frigida Francisca tegit hic lapis ossa Petrarcæ

Suscipe, Virgo, parens, animam: sate Virgine parce;
Fessaque jam terris cœli requiescat in arce.

The tomb still bears the marks of the sacrilegious robbers who broke it open in 1667, to possess themselves of the bones of Petrarch, in order to sell them. Our own Byron, too, came here, and his name with that of his companion is in the album. Well do I remember his having told me of his visit to Arqua,

when he brought the lady of his love, the fair Contessa Guiccioli, to see the abode and tomb of Petrarch.

"She who knows his sonnets by heart," said Byron, "and who recites them as only an Italian.mouth can pronounce the poetry of her country, was delighted with this little journey among the Euganean hills, and rendered it very delightful to Petrarch is the poetical idol of the women in Italy," continued he, "and no wonder, since if he serves not their cause in representing the passion of love, as so engrossing and despotic a one as it sometimes is, he at least professes that such was its empire over him."

me.

VICENZA.-Palladio has enriched his birth-place with many specimens of his fine taste and skill; which, in despite of the absence of all other attractions, still draw many a traveller to Vicenza. Nowhere have I seen a worse inn, or streets so unclean, and crowded by a population more ill-looking. A sittingroom even in the least bad inn here is a luxury unknown; and no fewer than two beds occupy the greater portion of the chamber in which our repasts are served. Our courier, the most indefatigable of his profession in endeavours to secure the comfort of his employers, shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders, and exclaims, "Patienza, Signora!" after each vain effort to procure a better room, or less disgusting looking food. Luckily, roasted chickens and omelets he can always manage to prepare ; but even the poultry and eggs he has been compelled to go in search of himself.

A

The dinner provided for us, and which the host insisted on serving, consisted of some soup, composed of maccaroni floating in a tureen of warm water, powdered with cheese. square piece of beef, compact and hard as the bee's-wax used in France for polishing floors; a lump of mutton, and a lump of pork, all served on the same dish. These were the pièces-derésistance; and the entrés consisted of brains fried in oil, and salt fish stewed with olives. Our host seemed no less offended than surprised at our rejection of these dainties; and was only. consoled by the assurance that, though not eaten, payment would be made for them.

The palace here has been restored by Palladio, and reflects great credit on his skill and judgment. It contains some good pictures, chiefly allegorical, a style which, whether in painting or literature, I admire less than any other.

There is a fine library at Vicenza, founded by a Count Bertolo, and in honour of him called the Bertoliana. The frequency of bequests of libraries and valuable collections in every branch of science and natural history, in Italy, reflects great credit on the liberality and patriotism of the donors; who in thus enriching their native towns lay the foundation of literature and science, the humanising effects of which have so salutary an influence on the happiness of the inhabitants.

Vanity, that stimulant which excites mortals into so many praiseworthy as well as foolish actions, is often attributed to those who have bequeathed valuable collections away from their families for the public advantage; but admitting that this puerile motive may have led to such gifts, the effect is so good that surely the cause may be pardoned, for vanity never was displayed in a more laudable manner. To how many beneficial consequences have such bequests paved the way? The power of gratifying the thirst for knowledge inherent in many youthful minds, the emulation excited among those who might not otherwise have been tempted to study, the love of learning that grows with the habit of acquiring it, are all fostered by the liberality of him who places within reach of his townsmen the treasures collected during his life; and the desire of the honourable distinction of having his name identified with his gift, is a blameless vanity, forgotten in the gratitude felt for his beneficence.

The Olympic theatre at Vicenza was designed by Palladio. It is too small, notwithstanding the admirable skill in perspective evinced to counteract this defect, to admit of its producing the effect so classical a building ought to produce; nevertheless, in purity of design and elegance of execution it is not unworthy of him who planned it. It is lucky for the fame of Palladio, that the design for this theatre was given previously to the discovery of those at Pompeii and Herculaneum; for the resemblance, particularly to the latter, is so striking, that it would have exposed him to the suspicion of having copied it. I could have fancied myself in a Roman theatre of two thousand years ago, so perfectly antique is the style and decorations of this of Vicenza; and the solidity of the immoveable scenery and ornaments encouraged the illusion.

It is not a little creditable to the academy whence this theatre takes its name, that it was erected by the desire and at the expense of its members; who, imbued with the love of classic' lore, wished that the scene, in which their representations of

the tragedies of the ancients were to be enacted, should resemble that of the time in which they were produced. Here were performed the dramas of Sophocles and Euripides, not by ordinary actors, but by the members of the Olympic Academy; and the strictest attention is said to have been paid to the costumes, manners, and customs of the age and country where the scene of the tragedy was laid.

Few towns have ever stood more indebted to one of her sons than has Vicenza to Palladio, who has erected buildings in it that will long claim the admiration of travellers, giving to this comparatively small place an interest and attraction rarely to be found in the proudest modern cities. But the skill and taste of this admirable architect would have failed to enrich his native town as it has done, had it not found constant employment, furnished by the wealthy and great of his townsmen. Hence arose those stately palaces that still command attention; and prove how well Palladio understood the application of his art to the erection of dwellings, in which elegance and fitness reign. The Valmarano Palace offers one of the finest specimens of Palladio's taste and skill, and the others, built from his designs, not less in number than eighteen or twenty, if less perfect, are still very creditable to him. A house of less dimensions is shown, said to have been that which Palladio erected for himself; and the exquisite taste that distinguishes it, proves it to have been a labour of love. Our cicerone assured us, with all the gravity suitable to the announcement of so important a fact, that Palladio did not build the house for himself, though it was true he had subsequently occupied it and told a long story of its having been erected from the design of Palladio for some person, whose name I forget, and who dying after its completion, it became the residence of its architect.

Palladio, of all modern artists, seems to me to have been the one whose mind was the most deeply imbued with the classical taste of Vitruvius; and who with a praiseworthy desire of beautifying all that he touched, made his art subservient to the decoration of buildings erected not solely as specimens of architectural skill, but as residences for private individuals. From early youth, the works of Palladio evince the fine taste that peculiarly appertained to him of which assertion the Trissino Palace, said to have been erected before he had attained his majority, is a striking proof.

There are two palaces called Trissino at Vicenza, one of