preserved,) and of then doing them into verse-a mode of composition, which would seen to be unfavourable to any thing like inspiration, and a species of drudgery to which one would hardly think an impetuous character like the poet could be brought to submit. He has prefixed to each of his productions his own opinions of its merits, by which it appears, that he was seldom satisfied with his writings.

Our credulity was somewhat severely put to the test by a philosophical relic, preserved under a glass case in this library. It is said to be the forefinger of Galileo. Nothing is more common than to embalm the different members of saints, such as ears, noses, teeth, and toes; but that such a mark of veneration should be shown to the protane dust of a heretic, is one of the greatest miracles in which the church of Rome abounds. However, as the old philosopher previous to his death retracted, on his bended knees, the damnable heresy that the earth moves round the sun, it is possible his persecutors relented and consecrated a portion of the learned penitent. At all events, having long since found that scepticism is one of the most uncomfortable commodities, which a traveller can possibly carry about with him, we renounced all doubts and gazed upon the withered relic, as the veritable index, which once pointed to the blue heavens of Italy, and traced the phenomena of the planetary world.

The church of the Annunciation, like the one at Genoa of the same name, is the most fashionable in town. It fronts the head of one of those wide, straight and handsome streets, which diverge like radii from the Piazza del Duomo. Its principal popularity arises from the celebrity of its Madonna, who continues to perform all sorts of miracles even in this age of philosophical truth and knowledge. She sets more bones, staunches more wounds, and performs more marvellous cures, than all the physicians of Florence, if the legends of devotees are to be taken as authority. At the very threshold of the church, consisting of a deep porch, or more properly cloisters, votive tablets cover the walls from the pavement to the ceiling. Here may be seen portrayed innumerable accidents by flood and field-wrecks of vessels-frantic horses and capsized vehicles in all possible attitudes-wounded persons spouting blood-and skeleton forms rising from their sick beds-all, all are restored to life by the miraculous interference of the Madonna. Some of the tablets have just

been suspended, bearing the dates of 1825 and 1826. There will doubtless be a plentiful accession during the present season, as the return of the papal jubilee gives to the year unusual sanctity.

The interior of the Annunziata is extremely rich and beautiful. Its dome is magnificent, and its chapels and shrines are as splendid as the costliest materials can render them. In the month of May, a donkey is led in solemn procession over the mosaic pavement to the High Altar, bearing a sack of presents to the Virgin. In the cloisters of the adjoining convent there is an extensive cemetery which was examined without finding many distinguished names. On the wall, near the point of junction with the church, is the celebrated fresco painting of the Madonna della Sacca, so called from its having been executed by Andrew del Sarto for a sack of corn. If it possesses no other merits than I could discern, the monks had the worst of the bargain.

The Museum of Natural History is one of the most interesting objects which the traveller finds at Florence. It is one of the best arranged and best regulated institutions of the kind I have ever seen, not excepting even the Garden of Plants at Paris, to which it bears a strong resemblance, inferior indeed in extent, but not in the preservation of its articles. All the departments of natural science are respectably filled, and some of them, particularly those of ornithology, mineralogy, and conchology, are extremely rich. The arrangement of the birds is remarkably neat. Each of them perches upon the branch of a tree, and holds in its beak a green leaf, inscribed with its name in white letters. fishes and reptiles are disposed in jars, filled with transparent fluids, thus appearing to be immersed in their native element. In the cabinet of Mineralogy are several marble tables, inlaid with gems, and of exquisite workmanship.

The

But the anatomical preparations in wax form the most striking and peculiar feature in this Museum. I believe the world is indebted to Florence for the invention of these substitutes to supply the place of real subjects; and so celebrated have they become, that copies of them are frequently made for medical institutions in other countries. Several sets have gone to the United States. Here may be seen every part of the human body, internal as well as external, so exactly delineated and coloured, as almost to deceive the

spectator into a belief, that he surveys real bone and muscle. Many of the more difficult cases of surgery are portrayed to the life; and a knowledge of the fact, that the preparations are of wax, relieves the mind from a portion of the pain, which it feels in examining an exhibition of real suffering. The articles are displayed in as delicate a manner as possible, and ladies often go through the whole collection. There is however one department of this Museum, on which the eye of neither man nor woman can light without creating a thrill of horror :-I refer to the illustrations of the ravages of the plague at Florence in 1348, alluded to in the introduction of the Decameron. These delineations are also in wax, forming a series, and contained in three glass cases. It must have required no ordinary effort of the imagination to combine so many horrible images, and such loathsome forms of death, as are presented in these vivid pictures of the pestilence. Even the masterly descriptions of Thucydides and Boccace are here surpassed. Imagine the ruins of a splendid city-reptiles of the most odious kind crawling over broken pillars, and nestling in dilapidated houses— heaps of the dying and dead piled promiscuously together in all possible attitudes--carniverous animals fastening upon dilacerated corses, with an image of Death surveying the hideous scene of destruction with a malignant smile-and then you will have but a faint idea of these shocking illustrations. It is a fact, that one of our countrymen, who was at Florence last winter, and whose nerves are not remarkably delicate, declared that he could not sleep for several nights after witnessing this exhibition.

I am happy to escape as soon as possible from the breath of the pestilence, and to conduct the reader into a fine Botanic Garden, which joins the Museum and forms a part of the establishment. The grounds are extensive, and laid out with more science than taste. Too much rather that too little has been done; and the eye looks in vain for any of that negligent wildness of nature, which constitutes the charm of an English Garden, even when devoted solely to improvements in botanical science. The green-houses are sufficiently numerous, to give all the principal climates in the world; and the labels of the plants exposed to the open air are protected by small glass receivers-a peculiarity which appeared to me worthy of imitation.

Not far from the Museum stands the Ducal Palace, called

the Palazzo Pitti--an enormous pile, which appears the more lofty and huge from its position on an acclivity so steep, that a carriage can scarcely drive up to the front door with safety. It is three stories high-the first of the Doric, the second of the Ionic, and the third of the Composite order of architecture, the whole rusticated in the Tuscan style, giving to the exterior an air of rude and gloomy grandeur, but nothing of beauty. The dark complexion of the stone contributes to its heavy and sombre character. It was built by Luca Pitti, a wealthy republican merchant in the 15th century, and on the decline of that family, it was purchased by Cosimo I. From that age to the present time, it has continued to be the principal residence of the Grand Dukes of Tuscany, who have constantly been contributing to its embellishments, till the interior has become one of the richest palaces in the world. But all its splendour cannot obliterate the traces of crimes, of which it has been the seat, from the secret murders of a former period, to the court intrigues of a more recent date.

In

The only entrance is by lofty arched portals, leading into a spacious court, which is ornamented with a fountain. a pannel of the wall is a bronze bas-relief likeness of the ass, which drew all the stones with which the Palace was constructed. A handsome Latin inscription commemorates the patient labours of the animal, the remembrance of whose services is likely to outlive the fame of some of the nobility, who have since been tenants of the edifice.

After ascending several stately flights of marble steps, and being kept waiting half an hour, shut up in a cheerless antichamber, with brick pavements, naked walls, and a group of smutty-faced statues for the companions of our imprisonment, the doors were flung open, and we were admitted into the Grand Duke's long suite of apartments. These are certainly not only rich and splendid, but in good taste, far surpassing any thing of the kind I have seen in Italy. Some of the rooms have floors of walnut-others of marble or composition, all neat and highly polished. The ceilings are covered with frescos of more than ordinary merit; and the walls are hung with Lyonese tapestry of the finest qualities and richest figures. Chairs, sofas, and couches covered with crimson velvet, and large French mirrors set off the saloons to advantage. The tables and mantel-pieces, both of the finest marbles, are exquisitely beautiful. Some of the form

er are inlaid with precious stones, forming a variety of figures; and one of the latter is supported by two large white eagles, of elegant workmanship. The fire-places generally have an air of neatness and comfort, not to be met with in most palaces on the continent.

In a small octagonal temple, at the extremity of the suite of apartments, stands Canova's celebrated statue of Venus. She occupies the centre of the magnificent shrine, of which she is the sole tenant, elevated upon a pedestal in peerless beauty, and multiplying her image in the mirrors which cover the walls. The Grand Duke has certainly given the Paphian goddess an opportunity to show off her charms in all their brilliancy; and notwithstanding her modest drapery, she by no means stints the admiration of the beholder. This statue is reckoned one of the chef d'oeuvres of the great master, who could do all but make the marble speak and breathe. If I durst venture a remark upon the conception of such a mind, and upon the creative skill of such a hand, it would be, that some of the limbs and features of his personification of abstract beauty are slightly wanting in delicacy of proportion. The neck appeared to me too gross, and the nose, where it joins the forehead, too thick. But it is more than ten thousand to one, that the artist is right and my criticism in the wrong.

The Pitti Palace contains much the choicest collection of paintings, that has ever fallen within my sphere of observation. Here are many of the first pictures of the great Italian masters. One room after another opens its treasures upon the visitant, till his mind is surfeited with the very richness of the repast. We gazed and gazed, till our necks were stiff, and our legs weary. Several hours were intensely occupied in the examination, and as many days would scarcely enable me to do justice to such a gallery. Where so many are good, it is difficult to select the best. But with regard to the productions of one artist, there can be no mistake. The pictures of Raphael do not in my opinion admit of comparison. He is as immeasurably elevated above all others, as Homer and Virgil and Dante and Shakspeare are above the minor Greek, Latin, Italian, and English poets. Other artists may occasionally, nay frequently do a good thing; but he is always great, always supported by his genius, and never sinks to the level of ordinary minds. These remarks should be restricted to his second and third manner, after he