On arriving at Sarzana, situated a few miles below, on the opposite shore, it was found that our fellow travellers in fording the Magra were two gentlemen from New-York, whom chance threw into company with us, in the bed of a mountain torrent. As they were pursuing the same route as ourselves, with much the same objects in view, more agreeable associations and stronger ties than those growing out of a romantic incident, afterwards brought us frequently in contact, much to our instruction and social enjoyment, and it is hoped not without mutual gratification.

I seize this opportunity to say, that the depth of erudition and strength of memory, which one of these gentlemen manifested, struck me with perfect astonishment. Vanity had led me to fancy myself decently acquainted with the Latin and Greek classics; but the learning of my friend made me ashamed of my limited attainments. If a hill or a stream, a plant or ruin, chanced to suggest an idea in a Roman historian, orator, or poet, he could not only give me chapter and verse, but repeat the passage in the language of the author. In the course of our rambles, whole pages of Livy, Cæsar, Tacitus, Cicero, Virgil, Horace and the rest, were poured forth without effort, as if nothing were necessary but to hoist the floodgates of memory. I do not recollect an individual within the sphere of my observation or reading, except perhaps Charles James Fox, who could quote so much of Homer; yet this gentleman has all his life been engaged in a laborious profession, requiring no farther knowledge of the dead languages, than would enable him to cite Grotius, Bacon, and the Pandects. If Eustace had met with such a companion in his "Classical Tour," he might not have subjected himself to the imputation of borrowing quotations from the books of others.

At 5 o'clock on the morning of the 10th, we left Sarzana. Of this town little was seen, except the comforts of a decent hotel, and it is believed there is little to be seen, although it claims a high antiquity. It was badly lighted by a few dim lamps at the time of our entrance, and not lighted at all at the hour of our departure. In every point of view, it is an unimportant place, and the Genoese never made a worse bargain, than when they took it in exchange for Leghorn, excepting always the commutation of a Republic for a Monarchy. Sarzana is the south-eastern extremity of the

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dominions of the King of Sardinia, unless his territory like his title extends to Jerusalem.

In our ride this morning, we passed the ruins of the ancient Luni. The country bordering both sides of the road here resembles continuous gardens, exuberant in fertility and in the highest state of improvement. Fields of wheat were observed already in the ear, and the flax was in full blossom. From these facts some idea may be formed of the mildness of the climate and the forwardness of the season. In the same parallel of latitude in our country, the latter of the above mentioned products is not sown so early as the 10th of April, and should it peep from the ground for many days after, it would be nipped by frosts.

At 8 o'clock we reached Massa, and persuaded the coachman to pause half an hour at the gate, to give us an opportunity of looking at the town. It is beautifully situated at the foot of the Apennines, which rise in green swells above it, and is girt on all sides with flowery fields. An arched gateway leads into a spacious public square, on one side of which the Ducal Palace, a colossal fabric, presents its weather-beaten and decaying front. Our attention during a short stay was chiefly occupied with the marble shops, where ornaments of all kinds are manufactured in great quantities. Two or three of these establishments were visited and the proprietors showed us whatever was to be seen. The mar

ble is of a beautiful quality, as many of our own luxurious countrymen are aware. Carrara, where inexhaustible quarries of it are found, wrought, and thence exported to all parts of the world, is situated among the mountains, five miles from Massa. It was our wish to visit this great manufactory; but the vetturino could not be driven from his route, as the digression was not in the bond. Here are forged many of the gods and goddesses, heroes and poets, who are rough hewn from the mountains, and subsequently put on board of transports for Rome, or Florence, to be retouched and sold by the first artists. It is believed, that many of them are made to order by apprentices, and shipped for other countries, without ever having navigated the waters of the Arno or Tiber. But so that the world admires, where is the difference?-Carrara is the school for all young artists, and for all the drudges of the profession.

During a tedious pause at Pietra Santa, we strolled through the silent streets of the town, and examined two or three of

the churches, which smell of the neighbouring shop at Carrara, but perhaps deserve credit on the score of patriotism, for displaying a profusion of those ornaments, which the district so abundantly supplies. They are extremely rich in marbles of a beautiful quality. Even the organ in one of them is supported by four magnificent columns, cut from solid blocks, and the pillars of the nave are equally massive and splendid. The show of pictures is scanty and mean; but in the brilliancy of altars, and finery of Saints and Madonnas, these village churches will bear a comparison with those of Genoa, if that be any credit to them.

Onward from this town, we traversed another delicious plain, where our senses, were surfeited with perfumes and the luxuriance of the landscape. From a high and solitary ridge of the Apennines, a good-night was waved to the Gulf of Spezia, slumbering along its green and quiet shores. Thence the coachman, taking a hint from his vehicle, which in speed was likely to outstrip his horses, hurried us down a steep declivity into the vale of the Serchio, winding through a wide and verdant champain, under the walls of Lucca. This stream is more like a river, or in other words, less like a torrent, than any one that had been seen since leaving France. It rolls on through its gay and flowery borders with a broad, rapid, but silent current. From its bridge, a straight, spacious avenue, lined with trees, leads to the gates of the city.

The fields on either hand are so many gardens, every foot of which is manured and cultivated to the highest degree, by an overstocked population. Not a tendril of the vine, not a plant, nor a blade of corn is suffered to be out of its place, or to occupy more ground than is just sufficient for its support. The peasantry of both sexes are always in the fields, sometimes apparently only to watch the growth of plants under their charge, which they feed and nurse with more care than they do their children. They mix manure with water in casks, forming a sort of nutritious pap, which they ladle out daily in exact proportions, for the food of vegetables. the American farmer, who is lord of his hundred or his thousand acres, this exactness might seem a trifling occupation; but here it is absolutely necessary, that every rood should maintain its man. It would take but few farms, such as are found in the interior of New-York, to cover the whole Duchy of Lucca, which contains only 320 square miles, more than

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half of which consists of barren mountains, incapable of tillage. Yet this territory has a population of 120,000, who depend chiefly on the cultivation of the soil for support. The richness of the landscape bears ample testimony to their honest industry, and the utmost nicety in the mode of culture. Females who never saw festoons of silk or damask, are engaged in adjusting festoons of vines, stretching from tree to tree in waving and graceful wreaths.

After a slight examination of our passports and baggage, with an inquiry whether our trunks contained any contraband articles, we were permitted to pass under the stately arch which opens through the walls of Lucca. Passing through several narrow but well paved streets, the vetturino set us down in a dirty court, filled with coaches and groups of his own brethren. As the interior of the tavern was almost as dirty as the outside, we ordered our luggage to be taken to the Hotel de l'Europe, where excellent accommodations were obtained, though at rather an extravagant price. The sa

loon was furnished with handsome carpets and sofas, and the walls were hung with so many paintings of no ordinary merit, as to constitute quite a gallery, with the convenience of being examined while sipping a dish of tea.

A considerable fragment of the afternoon yet remained, and as an economy of time was an object with us, dinner was postponed till evening, and a cicerone immediately put in requisition to show us the city. He conducted us first to the church of St. Dominica, which is a stately edifice, rich in marbles, and containing some good pictures. The ceiling and pavement are both splendid. Many votaries were kneeling at the altars, gazing with a steadfast eye at the image of some saint, and whispering a prayer. Particular care was taken on our part never to disturb these acts of devotion, though the valets-de-place step up without hesitation, and begin to talk aloud of the merits of a painting, before which some votary is bending the knee, fixed like a statue upon the pavement. The Lucchese are ultra religious, through the influence and example of the late Dutchess, who was an enthusiast and devotee.

Our next visit was to the Cathedral, a Gothic edifice of the eleventh or twelfth century, stately, spacious, and rich in its multiplicity of arches and pillars. Its pavement is a splendid mosaic of different marbles. An antique tabernacle, loaded with arabesque ornaments, filled with relics and votive

offerings, occupies the centre of the nave.

Round the walls

are several sepulchral monuments, among which is the tomb of Adalbert, ancestor of the House of Este and of the Brunswicks, kings of England. In the dim twilight of the church, it was impossible to decipher the long epitaph, inscribed in the old Saxon character upon the sarcophagus. Calis were made at two other churches, St. Giovanni, and St. Maria. In the former, a crowd were engaged in chanting their vespers; in the latter, are two good pictures, one by Titian, and the other by Guercino. The Ducal Palace is a large edifice, destitute of ornament, fronting a spacious public square, on which a statue to one of the Bourbons has lately been erected. Lucca is a well built city. The houses are generally plain, but substantial, indicating a taste for simplicity and comfort, which characterised its inhabitants during the happy days of the Republic. Even now, although the late revolution has wrought many changes for the worse, their manners retain a spirit of activity, industry and cleanliness. In walking through their streets, crowded with a population of 30,000, I do not recollect to have been beset by beggars in a single instance-a rare phenomenon in any part of Italy I have yet seen.

Between sunset and dark, we walked quite round the ramparts—a circuit of about three miles. It is a charming promenade. The walls are built of brick fifteen feet high, with regular bastions, like a fortress, and girt by moats. At top they are covered with earth, planted with groves of elms and poplars, with a carriage road in the centre, and side-paths for pedestrians. This is the ordinary Corso, of the citizens, where from their coaches they can look abroad upon their little green dominions, as well as upon their distant mountains. The coronet of foliage, encircling the antique towers of the city, has a peculiarly picturesque effect. At the close of his third campaign in Gaul, Cæsar went into winter quarters at Lucca, whither Pompey and Crassus, followed by a considerable part of the Roman Senate, repaired to meet him. It was not difficult for the imagination, while musing at twilight upon the ancient ramparts, to summon up the spirits of other ages, and to fancy the picture which the city must have presented, when it was thronged with the legions of the conqueror, and with the splendid equipages of the masters of the world.

Early next morning, while breakfast was preparing, we