drawing-room was still there, but it had now become what is called a blind door, being in fact built up on the other side-all access there at an end. He soon discovered that the sister of the general had stole a march upon him. With rage and indignation he flew to his lawyer, determined instantly to institute a prosecution for so gross and so extraordinary an outrage. The lawyer, however, a cool, calculating man of the world, well acquainted with the state of matters in France, the imperious selfish temper of the First Consul, his great power, and his total disregard both of moral principle and of law, where any aggression of either himself or his family was in question, requested his client to reflect for a day or two before instituting a public prosecution against the sister of Napoleon; and in some subsequent interviews, brought forward so many convincing arguments, that this most respectable gentleman, with deep chagrin, and still deeper vows of unalterable hatred, was ultimately forced to submit to this most unprecedented, selfish, and tyrannical act of robbery. The following little anecdote regarding Pauline appeared to me at first incredible, as it will most probably be to the generality of English ears, but here, where morals and manners are so totally different, it does not seem to be received with any wonder, and in fact must be true, if truth exists at all, as it depends on the testimony of the senses, which Dr. Reid, I

remember, in his common-sense view of the human mind, considers a sort of evidence which it were too absurd to reject. Several gentlemen, indeed, were present, saw the act performed, and corroborate each other's testimony in every particular. When Pauline sat to Canova, he extolled her foot as the most beautiful that ever had been seen, and declared that it was perfectly inimitable even by the greatest master in the divine art of sculpture. Since that time Pauline has an irresistible inclination to exhibit this lovely member, which, of course, as she has abundance of attendants, is perfumed and kept in the most perfect state of elegance and neatness for the purpose. At her supper parties, which are frequent and most elegant, she is surrounded, of course, in such a state of society, by a crowd of profligate admirers and sycophants. Both to amuse themselves, and to gratify this, her extraordinary propensity, they adroitly direct the current of conversation to the fine arts, to Grecian sculpture, to the beauty of the human form, to the face, the bosom, the hand, and to that most difficult member for imitation, the foot. Pauline, little accustomed to resist her inclinations, can no longer withstand the effect of such an allusion; her femme de chambre is called, the little shoe and flesh-coloured silk stocking is quietly and gracefully removed, and the exquisitely beautiful little fairy foot, is, to use a parliamentary phrase, laid on

the table. Every eye-glass is in requisition; every opera-glass, by those admirers more near the foot of the room. A general murmur of delight is heard by the admiring conoscenti, who feast their eyes on every toe, and vent their scientific and warm eulogiums upon the beauty and perfect symmetry of this inimitable piece of nature's work. "E il piede della Venere di Medici animata! Che buon boccone! Ora si ride di Praxiteles! ora si ride di Phidias! si ride de Canova stesso! Quanto e bello! quanto e perfetto! qui v' e la Gran Natura! qui v' e la Vita! Che dita belli! Son come quelli d'un Infante!" were a few of the exclamations uttered by the admiring throng.

This little anecdote may appear to the home circle too trifling to be repeated; but it seems to me so characteristic of the individual, of the manners and customs of this country, and so totally different from what could possibly occur in our dear island (which, I trust, with the blessing of God, will ever continue under the benign influence of its own excellent government, of its own Protestant institutions, uncontaminated by the example and influence of continental and Roman Catholic immoralities), that I have thought it worth transcribing.

LETTER FIFTEENTH.

FLORENCE, June, 18-.

MY DEAR

WE have been again enlivened in the Collegio Vecchio di Pisa, by the arrival of a most intelligent and agreeable person, who, for the second time, is travelling in Italy for amusement, and intends remaining here for a short time previous to going to Florence. Mr. T is an Englishman, about middle life, of a tall raw-boned figure and plain face, with uothing of the freshness characteristic of the natives of our island; but is of a yellow-complexion, and altogether reminds me ever of a Dane, among whom he has lived a good deal, and was naturalised, carrying a Danish passport as a native of that country, which, as he is very knowing in such matters, he believes will be much more convenient for him should war break out

between Great Britain and France. He is quite a literary character, and is constantly occupied with his

journal, probably intended for publication, and writes. it in French, Spanish, German, Italian, or English, as the spirit moves him. He has been urging me very strongly to accompany him to Florence, which I had intended visiting long ere now, but have delayed till I should be more au fait in speaking the language; yet I must confess I have been very comfortable with my friend the Pole, am upon a most agreeable and intimate footing with the family of Pesciolini, while the society of Flaminia-whom I see twice every day, according to the custom of the country, either in her own palazzo, or accompanying her to the large conversazione in Casa Mastiani-has conduced to render a residence, which I at first felt dreadfully dull, more interesting and familiar.

As my new friend, like all old travellers, is well versed in the savoir faire, we left Pisa in a calassino, or large gig, driven by a lad who walks or runs the greater part of the way, but occasionally when tired sits upon one of the shafts. This mode of travelling is very common in Italy, and is much more economical than posting. We left Pisa about nine o'clock-a most beautiful evening-the night comparatively cool and serene, with bright light from innumerable stars, which brilliantly studded the deep clear azure vault of heaven, and after a most interesting journey, chiefly along the banks of the Arno, and rich scenery redolent with the