of their little earnings should be absorbed by the extravagance of the government, or go to support a voracious priesthood. A bright sunset spread its glow over the chain of hills upon our right, and the softness of twilight was delicious. At dusk we passed one of the seven or eight country residences, belonging to the Grand Duke of Tuscany. The exterior is stately. It is said to contain some good pictures. In its halls, one of the Medici was poisoned at the instigation of a Cardinal. Several canals cross the vale of the Arno in this vicinity. At 10 o'clock we reached Pistoia, and walked about to look at the ancient city. It is famous for the defeat of Cataline's army, by the forces of the Republic. Its walls and gates are lofty and substantial. One of the streets is spacious. The greatest show I saw was a profusion of fine water-melons, with red paper lanterns so contrived, as to give their core a ruddier hue. A scorpion was killed in my presence, upon the pavement-the first I had ever seen, though by no means the last, as the sequel will show. It is a black odious looking animal, several inches in length, with feelers like a lobster. After resting two hours, and refreshing ourselves with an omelet and a glass of red wine, we proceeded slowly upon our journey, and reached Pescia at dawn of day. Early as it was, the peasantry were pouring into the village, carrying their vegetables and fruits to market. The females have beautiful faces, lighted up with apparent cheerfulness. They bear their baskets upon their heads; and no sculptor ever fashioned from the marble, caryatides half so graceful, as might be found in this group of market-girls. The neutral ground, on the borders of Tuscany and Lucca, is the arena for duels-a kind of sport of which the Italians are not fond. They prefer to use the dirk. We rode for some miles along the borders of a canal, which hurries down from the mountains with a copious, strong current, and soon found ourselves upon the banks of the Serchio, an old acquaintance. It is here a large and beautiful stream. The road winds along its brink, and enters a mountainous region, forming a miniature picture of the Alps. We were soon lost among the lofty and green ridges of the Apennines, pursuing the capricious windings of the Serchio for ten miles. The hills are clothed with chestnut, and often crowned with convents and cottages, in situations the most wild and ro mantic imaginable. Small white villages are sprinkled along the bottom of the glen, which is not more than half a mile in width. Occasionally a spire rises from its quiet bosom. Several ancient and ruinous bridges extend across the river. One of them is said to be the work of the devil. The Austrian, Prussian, and Swedish ministers passed us in splendid style, on their way to the Baths, the modern Baiæ, or the Saratoga of Italy. Crossing the Ponte Serraglio, the Rialto of Lucca, we entered the busy, bustling, and gay little village about noon. A meridian sun pouring down its blaze upon a southern exposure, so hemmed in by the surrounding hills, as to exclude every breath of air, induced me to believe, that this watering-place is not the most eligible summer retreat. I am not yet fully satisfied, that my first impression was erroneous, though the village certainly improves wonderfully on acquaintance. As crowds of visitants had already arrived, we deemed ourselves extremely fortunate in obtaining, a suite of chambers, in a large house, standing in a retired situation, at the base of a romantic hill, the rocks of which rose to Alpine heights above our windows. But how fallacious are often our hopes in the smaller, as well as in the more important concerns of life! Scarcely were we comfortably settled, before domestic afflictions began to thicken upon us. At Pistoia my companions laughed at my apprehensions of meeting scorpions. Soon after our arrival, the Consul, in letting down his window-curtain, was nigh putting his hand upon one of the monsters, coiled up in its folds. A cry was raised, and an old woman came in and despatched it with her broom-stick. Next morning I found another of the venomous reptiles, secreted under my boots, within a few feet of my bed. * In the course of the day, three or four more were killed in various parts of the house. I sat up all one night as a sentinel, to watch the movements of the enemy, while my friends slept. A council of war was held, and it was unanimously agreed, that a retreat was expedient. We accordingly repacked our trunks, and took lodgings with * A captain in the British Navy, whom I met at the Baths, informed me that he found one of these animals crawling up the bed-clothes towards an infant child, who was asleep. They appear to be more numerous here, than in other parts of Italy: though thirteen were killed in my boarding-house at Florence the last year. Signora Pieri, a smart Luccese house-wife, who gave us new apartments, which were at least free from scorpions. Thus eligibly settled for a week, we set about examining localities, and the resources for instruction and amusement. The situation of the Baths of Lucca is in the highest degree picturesque and romantic. An insulated hill, perhaps 1500 feet in height, rises in the centre of an immense amphitheatre of the Apennines, of still greater elevation, but clothed to their very tops with successive belts of vines, olives, and chestnuts, in the midst of which is here and there seen a dwelling or convent hanging upon the rocks. To the north of the central mount, which is three or four miles in circumference, flows the Serchio, and on the south, the Lima, one of its principal branches. Both streams wind through deep glens, sometimes rural, but more frequently wild, and unite just below the Ponte Serraglio. Three separate villages rise round the sides of the rocky and woody cone; one in the vale of the Serchio, another on the bank of the Lima, and a third near the point of junction. The houses of the respective hamlets often straggle more than half way up the green barrier, which divides them. A footpath, ascending by terraces, passes over the very summit, and opens a direct communication between the groups of visitants. The currents of the two rivers are rapid, and their waters musical. At evening, when the houses are all lighted up, and illuminated windows are seen at aerial heights among the trees, the view is fanciful and brilliant beyond description. The hot springs gush in copious streams from the brow of the hill on both sides, where spacious baths have been erected, crowned with triple towers,* finished in good style, and furnished with the usual accommodations and conveniences. They are under the superintendence of three commissioners, appointed annually by the Duke from among his nobility, who may ex officio be styled " Knights of the Bath." The prices are fixed at moderate rates, and the regulations appear to be 'judicious and liberal. We bathed daily. The waters are transparent, exhilarating, and delicious; though I thought * A vane on one of these towers bears the word "Libertas”—Liberty— a motto not often found in modern Italy. There is also a long Latin inscription in the vestibule of one of the baths, ascribing to the waters the same miraculous properties, which Hobbes imputes to those of Buxton, in Derbyshire. they subsequently produced languor, and had not a salutary effect upon the constitution. The natural temperature of the fountains is generally about 90 degrees; but some of them are so hot as to form vapour baths, which are fitted up for that purpose. Strange as it may seem, we saw a watersnake swimming in one of these reservoirs. There is one kind of bathing called by the Italians docce, which is used in local affections. A stream of hot water is forced with great violence through a pipe, upon the seat of the complaint. It is said to prove efficacious. On the day after our arrival, we were introduced to a wealthy merchant of Leghorn, to whom a friend at Marseilles had given us letters. He owns a palace here, another at Pisa, and several at the seat of his business, where he alternately resides, as the season may render it the most agreeable. We were fortunate in finding him among the Apennines, as his profuse hospitality contributed essentially to the pleasures of our excursion. He gave us the freedom of his box at De midoff's theatre, and insisted on our dining with him, with the occasional addition of a breakfast, every day during our visit. His table was always crowned with dainties-with trout from the neighbouring brooks, vegetables and fruits from his own gardens, fresh butter made every morning on his own farm, a dozen kinds of the choicest wines, cooled by a fountain playing in the dining-hall, after the manner of the Triclinium of the old Romans. His palace at the Baths is appropriately called the Buonvisi or Bellevue. It stands on the declivity, half way up the green eminence between the Lima and Serchio, affording a wide and enchanting view into the vale of the former, and of the mountains rising above. In the rear, cliffs tufted with trees and half buried in vines, climb stage above stage, in ranges of terraces for hundreds of feet. A garden spreads below, watered by a bright fountain, which plays into a white marble basin, and is shaded by laurel. The head-quarters of gaiety and fashion are the palace and theatre of Count Demidoff, situated upon the banks of the Lima, several hundred feet below the Bounvisi. This Russian nobleman is as remarkable for his splendour, as for 'his boundless wealth. He is the proprietor of the mines of Siberia, and his income exceeds a million of dollars a year, which with all his extravagance he cannot contrive means to exhaust. His expenses at the Baths are said to be a thousand dollars a day, and to exceed this amount, during his residence at Leghorn in September, and at Florence in winter. He keeps twenty-six splendid coaches, with four and six horses to each, and his retinue comprises a regiment. The inmates of his palace, exclusive of servants, are forty-six in number. In his train, he has constantly a full corps of French players, who follow him about from place to place, for the amusement of himself and friends. By the prettiest of the actresses, he has a natural son, who is now a sprightly lad, and who may be seen every evening galloping his pony across the Ponte Serraglio, at the side of his mother, and followed by the dwarf of Demidoff, who has charge of his diamonds. The latter is a mere lump of flesh, and makes a most grotesque figure, when mounted on horseback, and coursing like the wind. We first saw the Count in passing his palace. He was seated in a shady portico asleep, while a negro stood by fanning him, and keeping off the flies. The picture forcibly brought to my mind a passage in Cowper: "I would not have a slave to till my ground, But when one reasons philosophically on the subject, there We subsequently saw the Count, not only whirled along the Corso in one of his score of gilded coaches, but seated on a sumptuous couch, and presiding over the court of pleasure, at one of his great balls, to which the Consul's acquaintance with the family procured us tickets. The cards of invitation are issued in the French language, in the name of Madame Dournoff, a sister of Demidoff, and are made general for every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, during the season. We attended on the evening of the 10th. The ball was held in the theatre, which is a handsome building, with three tiers of boxes, lighted by brilliant chandeliers. It was this evening decorated with flowers. Spacious as it is, half of the company could not be accommodated on the arena for dancing; and every part of the room was crowded. The Count |