convent, now used as a store-house, are some of the finest specimens of the architecture of Palladio. Another sample of his best style is found in the Chiesa di Redentore, which presents a noble front. The tombs of distinguished men, trophies, and inscriptions, impart an interest to most of the Venetian churches, beyond what is to be found in architectural beauty, and no common splendour in the embellishments. We visited a score of them at least, and none, without finding something to admire. Among the most splendid of those not already mentioned, is Santa Maria della Salute, the architecture of which is in excellent taste. It contains several of Titian's pictures, and the high altar, of white marble and free from finery, is admired for its simple elegance.

In the church of Franciscans, we found the tomb of Titian himself. He was buried beneath the pavement, near one of the altars. The inscription is as follows:

Qui giace il gran Titiano di Vicelli,
Emulatore de' Zeusi e degli Apelli.

Here lies the great Titian, the rival of Zeuxis and Apelles.

In the same church are the tombs of the Foscari, and many other piles of monumental marble. One of them is ornamented with the statues of two slaves, which Canova, a native of this city, copied as his first work, besides falling in love during the process.

The church of Santa Maria di Rosario, in the same neighbourhood, is one of the richest I have ever seen. A canopy over the altar is supported by six pillars of pure lapis-lazuli; and there are several large columns of Sicilian jasper. The churches in general at Venice surpass in splendour those of any other city, except a few at Rome and Genoa. The cause of this may be found in the extended commerce of the Republic, and the wealth brought from the East, as the fruits both of trade and conquest, no inconsiderable portion of which was consecrated to religious purposes, by the prevailing piety of the age. Another illustration of this remark may be found in the chapel of the Jesuits, which is as sumptuous as can be imagined. The walls are of white marble, inlaid with verde antique, and even the pavement, like that of St. Mark's, is composed of precious stones. tabernacle on the high altar is of lapis-lazuli, set in Parian marble. It was adorned by order of the last Doge of Venice; and one of his predecessors, who built the Rialto, has here a superb tomb, amidst those of other distinguised men. Here is a fine piece of sculpture, representing the Archangel Michael holding the Devil in chains.

Most of the Doges rest in St. Paul's and St. John's. Their proud monuments, composed according to the inscriptions, “er hostium manubiis," are ranged round the Gothic walls, interspersed with several equestrian statues. One of the republican generals, on a spirited charger, guards the entrance. Here we found the original picture of Peter the Martyr, by Titian. In the chapel which contains Tintoretto's great picture, the Adoration of Gold, I saw a shrine with an inscription which runs thus :-" A privileged altar-here they every day liberate the souls of the dead from Purgatory." I read in another church, which we visited to see the tomb of Paul Veronese, a handbill posted up on the inside of a confessory, comprising a list of offences, which are confessed to the priest. The enumeration embraces among others, blasphemy against God, the Saviour, the Madonna, or any saint; sodomy, and "copula cum infidelibus." Loves with the faithful are not prohibited. It is but justice, however, to remark, that the blackest and most unnatural crimes are interdicted in this little directory, and the restraining influence of confessions upon the lower classes, in many instances, cannot be doubted. Notes were taken of half a dozen other churches; but my readers must by this time be tired of "counting steeples."

The Palaces of Venice, rich as some of them are both in architecture and the contents of their galleries, shall be despatched in few words. Of the countless number, the Palazzo Babarigo, once the residence of Titian, and still the depository of some of his finest pictures, is by far the most interesting. His Magdalene produced a very strong impression upon my mind, and gave me a most exalted idea of his powers as an artist. It appeared to me a more just conception and a more forcible expression of the character of the penitent, than I had found in any other picture of the same description. Her eyes are raised to heaven, swollen and red with weeping her hand is pressed upon her bosom: her golden tresses descend in negligent tangles to her breast: remorse and sorrow, absorbing all other thoughts, are depicted in the carelessness of her drapery, as well as in the pathos of her face: a book is open before her, and the image of death is at her side. As in a deep tragedy you forget the author, the actor, and the fiction, and seem to mingle with real persons; so here, the skill of Titian is not the object of admiration, but the feelings become interested in the pathetic grief of the penitent.

His Venus, in this palace, far transcends in my estimation that in the Florentine Gallery, from the same pencil. Her limbs are modestly veiled: Love has just presented a mirror to her: the moment she discovers the luxuriance of her charms, she presses a scarf upon her

bosom, with the agitation and blush of female delicacy. His Prometheus is far more attractive, than the mangled giant of Salvator Rosa, alluded to in a former letter. His picture of Venice, represented in the character of an Empress, bearing a sceptre and the laurel, with the diadem upon her brow, and her waist girt with a golden zone, is equally creditable to his skill and his patriotism. These and other great works served to correct my crude opinions of the master of the Venetian school.

We went to the Pisani Palace, to see one of the most celebrated pictures of Paul Veronese-Alexander and the Family of Darius. It is a highly finished production, but not interesting, at least it was not to us. The Palazzo Manfresi contains the most extensive gallery at Venice. Our cicerone with a nationality of feeling, which appears to be universal, pronounced it "the finest collection in all Italy!" He probably had never been at Florence or Rome. There are, however, many works of merit, scattered among much rubbish in the twelve rooms. A cartoon of Noah coming out of the Ark is ascribed to Raphael. Guido has painted Lucretia, with the knife in her hand, about to commit suicide, and not plunged in her bosom-a representation of the subject, which exactly accords with my ideas. Carlo Dolci has seated St. Cecilia at a piano, in the guise of a beautiful woman. It is a bright thought, happily expressed. A portrait of the mother of Titian, by her immortal son, evinces the delicacy of his pencil, as well as his filial piety. These rooms contain some interesting organic remains, chiefly of fishes in a very perfect state; as also a mineralogical cabinet, embracing many varieties of coral. At the door of the palace, Toretti, the father of Canova's master, presented himself to us, as an object of charity. He is a short slender old man, now at the age of eighty-five, with a white head, but retaining amidst his poverty a cheerful countenance, and a becoming pride for the celebrity of his son's pupil.

The Grimani Palace contains a group of family portraits by Titian, in his most finished style. Among the number are a Doge and three Cardinals. The former, in the ornaments of his palace, has converted two of the Roman emperors into caryatides. One of them is Caracalla, who is exactly fit to be degraded into such a servile office. The rarest articles are the head of a Faun by Michael Angelo, and a statue of Marcus Agrippa, said to be the only true likeness extant. Who is the arbiter in such a case? The cabinet of antiquities is rich and various. We here saw a table, which cost 30,000 ducats. It is inlaid with lapis-lazuli and other precious gems.

We visited the Academy of Fine Arts, principally for the purpose

of examining the Assumption, the chef d'œuvres of Titian. It is worthy of all the praises, which connoisseurs have lavished. The figures are about fifty in number, disposed on a field thirty feet in height, and fifteen or twenty in breadth. Near the centre of the canvass, the Virgin appears seated upon the clouds, with throngs of angels above, and groups of admiring and adoring spectators below. The composition is as perfect as the colouring; and both do justice to the grandeur of the subject. There are many other good pictures in the gallery; but the visitant will give them a glance, and return to the Assumption. The Academy contains a model for the tomb of Titian, by Canova, which he did not live to see completed; and by its side is now placed the model of his own monument, the expense of which is estimated at five thousand Louis-d'ors. Two-thirds of that sum have already been raised by subscription, and the books are open for the remainder. The proud mausoleum is to consist of a pyramid, with suitable embellishments, and the porphyry urn, which contains the heart of the immortal sculptor, bearing the following inscriptions:

"Cor magni Canova."

"Quod mutui amoris monumentum, idem gloriæ incitamentum siet."

Copies of the Elgin Marbles are deposited in one of the apartments of the Academy, with an inscription acknowledging the munificence of the King of England, and another compliment to his Majesty, by the President, placed in a conspicuous situation over the door. The custode, who conducted us through the halls, was three years in the service of Lord Byron, of whom he related many little anecdotes, which will not bear repetition. He stated that the frail Countess was She resides at Rome, and is said to possess now on a visit to Venice. few personal charms. Byron lived two years at Venice, occupying one of the most stately palaces upon the Grand Canal, near the PostOffice. He here wrote his series of dramatic poems.

The recurrence of a festa soon after our arrival, enabled us to witness the fashionable round of amusements, in a city proverbial for its gaiety. On such occasions, all the beauty, taste, and splendour yet left, may be seen at two o'clock beneath the Arcades of St. Mark's. The women generally are less beautiful than those of Florence or Rome. In dress they resemble the Bolognese, frequently wearing the veil, though nothing loth to be seen. Vivacity and a love of pleasure are depicted in their faces, as well as in their manners. Half of the men are foreigners-Austrians, Greeks, Turks, and Jews. all joining in the promenade, in their national costumes.

In the afternoon we attended a great Concert at the Foundling Hospital, for the benefit of the inmates. All the performers were young females, who had been educated in the school attached to this institution. Many of them had beautiful faces, and appeared like a group of angels thronging the orchestra, which was an open gallery elevated at a great height from the floor. They discoursed sweet music, which descended in silver tones upon the ear. Six of them played the violin, by way of accompaniment; but such an instrument does not become females, and the image detracted much from the seraphic choir.

moon.

We returned to St. Mark's by water in the evening. The canals were covered with gondolas, filled with parties of pleasure, who were abroad to enjoy the mildness of the air and the splendours of the Music and mirth gave animation to the scene. In one boat there was a concert of a dozen voices, accompanied by a violin. The airs were brisk, but wanting in melody. We were near enough to hear the words of one of the ballads, the burden of which was matrimonial felicity. Our gondolier stated, that the party consisted of washerwomen and porters, who would be compelled to toil hard all the next day, to pay the oarsman and fiddler.

At the square of St. Mark's, we found an immense crowd, and witnessed a great deal of buffoonery, probably much in the style of the Carnival. The first object that attracted attention, was a mountebank standing in the midst of a throng, in the dress of a priest, with a black cap upon his head, a profusion of rings upon his fingers, and a farthing candle in his hand. He recited a long prospectus of what he was about to write on scientific and literary subjects, in the character of a Caleb Quotem, and deliver for the edification of the public. A young poet, in a more serious vein, walked back and forth in front of a coffee-house, and spouted half a dozen of his latest sonnets, to amuse a circle of both sexes, who were all the while eating ice-creams. An old ballad-singer, accompanied by a young girl on the guitar, attracted another audience. The Austrian band played national airs, the Greeks played cards, and others played the fiddle. It was the oddest compound of amusements, as well as of population, that I have ever witnessed.

We went several evenings to the theatre of St. Benedict, the only one open at the time of our visit. Instead of coaches, you see a fleet of gondolas pressing to the doors. Each of the boats carries a lamp, and the gondolier, by day as well as by night, gives warning as he turns a corner, by singing out, to the right! or to the left! as the case may be. St. Benedict furnishes few attractions, except boxes filled with