s of the _piazzetta_ of S.
Mark, and repaired to the Doge's palace,--the dwelling of a line of
rulers haughtier than kings, and the throne of a republic more
oppressive than tyrannies. We walked through its truly majestic halls,
glowing with great paintings from Venetian history; and visited its
senatorial chamber, and saw the vacant places of its nobles, and the
empty chair of its Doge. There was here no lack of materials for
moralizing, had time permitted. She that sat as a Queen upon the
waves,--that said, "I am of perfect beauty,"--that sent her fleets to
the ends of the earth, and gathered to her the riches and glory of all
nations,--alas! how is she fallen! "The princes of the sea" have "come
down from their thrones, and" laid "away their robes, and put off their
broidered garments." "What city is like" Venice,--"like the destroyed in
the midst of the sea!"

We passed out between the famous stone lions, which, even so late as the
end of the last century, no Venetian could look on but with terror.
There they sat, with open jaws, displaying their fearfully significant
superscription, "_Denunzie secrete_,"--realizing the poet's idea of
republics guarded by dragons and lions. The use of these guardian lions
the Venetians knew but too well. Accusations dropped by spies and
informers into their open mouths, were received in a chamber below. Thus
the bolt fell upon the unsuspicious citizen, but the hand from which it
came remained invisible. Crossing by the "bridge of sighs,"--the canal,
_Rio de Palazzo_, which runs behind the ducal palace,--we entered the
state prisons of Venice. In the dim light I could discern what seemed a
labyrinth of long narrow passages; traversing which, we arrived at the
dungeons. I entered one of them: it was vaulted all round; and its only
furniture, besides a ring and chain, was a small platform of boards,
about half a foot from the floor, which served as the prisoner's bed. In
the wall of the cell was a small aperture, by which the light might be
made to stream in upon the prisoner, when the jailor did not wish to
enter, simply by placing the lamp in an opposite niche in the passage.
Here crime, despair, madness, and sometimes innocence, have dwelt.
Horrible secrets seemed to hover about its roof, and float in its air,
and to be ready to break upon me from every stone of the dungeon. I
longed, yet trembled, to hear them. But silent they are, and silent they
will remain, till that day when "t