ace to the summit, and
its gardens of never fading foliage, with the glorious panorama around,
might make it a paradise, if life were to be dreamed away. On the
northern side of the bay lies a large town (I forget its name,) with a
lofty Romanesque tower, and noble mountains sweep around as if to shut
out the world from such a scene. The sea was perfectly calm, and groves
and gardens slept mirrored in the dark green wave, while the Alps rose
afar through the dim, cloudy air. Towards the other end the hills sink
lower, and slope off into the plains of Lombardy. Near Arona, on the
western side, is a large monastery, overlooking the lower part of the
lake. Beside it, on a hill, is a colossal statue of San Carlo Borromeo,
who gave his name to the lovely islands above.

After a seven hours' passage, we ran into Sesto Calende, at the foot of
the lake. Here, passengers and baggage were tumbled promiscuously on
shore, the latter gathered into the office to be examined, and the
former left at liberty to ramble about an hour until their passports
could be signed. We employed the time in trying the flavor of the grapes
and peaches of Lombardy, and looking at the groups of travelers who had
come down from the Alps with the annual avalanche at this season. The
custom house officers were extremely civil and obliging, as they did not
think necessary to examine our knapsacks, and our passports being soon
signed, we were at liberty to enter again into the dominions of His
Majesty of Austria. Our companion, the German, whose feet could carry
him no further, took a seat on the top of a diligence for Milan; _we_
left Sesto Calende on foot, and plunged into the cloud of dust which was
whirling towards the capital of Northern Italy.

Being now really in the "sunny land," we looked on the scenery with a
deep interest. The first thing that struck me was a resemblance to
America in the fields of Indian corn, and the rank growth of weeds by
the roadside. The mulberry trees and hedges, too, looked quite familiar,
coming as we did, from fenceless and hedgeless Germany. But here the
resemblance ceased. The people were coarse, ignorant and savage-looking,
the villages remarkable for nothing except the contrast between splendid
churches and miserable, dirty houses, while the luxurious palaces and
grounds of the rich noblemen formed a still greater contrast to the
poverty of the people. I noticed also that if the latter are as lazy as
they are said t