sprung many a form of almost breathing beauty,
and where yet slumber, perhaps, in the unhewn marble, the god-like
shapes of an age of art, more glorious than any the world has ever yet
beheld!

[Footnote ***: By recent registers found in Corsica, it has been
determined that this island also gave birth to the discoverer of the new
world.]

The sun rose from behind the Apennines and masts and towers became
visible through the golden haze, as we approached the shore. On a flat
space between the sea and the hills, not far from the foot of Montenero,
stands Leghorn. The harbor is protected by a mole, leaving a narrow
passage, through which we entered, and after waiting two hours for the
visit of the health and police officers, we were permitted to go on
shore. The first thing that struck me, was the fine broad streets; the
second, the motley character of the population. People were hurrying
about noisy and bustling--Greeks in their red caps and capotes; grave
turbaned and bearded Turks; dark Moors; the Corsair-looking natives of
Tripoli and Tunis, and seamen of nearly every nation. At the hotel where
I stayed, we had a singular mixture of nations at dinner:--two French,
two Swiss, one Genoese, one Roman, one American and one Turk--and we
were waited on by a Tuscan and an Arab! We conversed together in four
languages, all at once.

To the merchant, Leghorn is of more importance than to the traveler. Its
extensive trade, not only in the manufactures of Tuscany, but also in
the productions of the Levant, makes it important to the former, while
the latter seeks in vain for fine buildings, galleries of art, or in
interesting historical reminiscences. Through the kind attention of the
Saxon Consul, to whom I had letters, two or three days went by
delightfully.

The only place of amusement here in summer is a drive along the sea
shore, called the Ardenza, which is frequented every evening by all who
can raise a vehicle. I visited it twice with a German friend. We met one
evening the Princess Corsini, wife of the Governor of Leghorn, on
horseback--a young, but not pretty woman. The road leads out along the
Mediterranean, past an old fortress, to a large establishment for the
sea bathers, where it ends in a large ring, around which the carriages
pass and re-pass, until sunset has gone out over the sea, when they
return to the city in a mad gallop, or as fast as the lean horses can
draw them.

In driving around, we met two o