te steepness of the
staircase. There is a fine view from the top, embracing the whole plain
as far as Leghorn on one side, with its gardens and grain fields spread
out like a vast map. In a valley of the Carrarrese Mountains to the
north, we could see the little town of Lucca, much frequented at this
season on account of its baths; the blue summits of the Appenines shut
in the view to the east. In walking through the city I noticed two other
towers, which had nearly as great a deviation from the perpendicular. We
met a person who had the key of the Baptistery, which he opened for us.
Two ancient columns covered with rich sculpture form the doorway, and
the dome is supported by massive pillars of the red marble of Elba. The
baptismal font is of the purest Parian marble. The most remarkable thing
was the celebrated musical echo. Our cicerone stationed himself at the
side of the font and sang a few notes. After a moment's pause they were
repeated aloft in the dome, but with a sound of divine sweetness--as
clear and pure as the clang of a crystal bell. Another pause--and we
heard them again, higher, fainter and sweeter, followed by a dying note,
as if they were fading far away into heaven. It seemed as if an angel
lingered in the temple, echoing with his melodious lips the common
harmonies of earth. Even thus does the music of good deeds, hardly noted
in our grosser atmosphere, awake a divine echo in the far world of
spirit.

The Campo Santo, on the north side of the Cathedral, was, until lately,
the cemetery of the city; the space enclosed within its marble galleries
is filled to the depth of eight or ten feet, with earth from the Holy
Land. The vessels which carried the knights of Tuscany to Palestine were
filled at Joppa, on returning, with this earth as ballast, and on
arriving at Pisa it was deposited in the Cemetery. It has the peculiar
property of decomposing all human bodies, in the space of two days. A
colonnade of marble encloses it, with windows of the most exquisite
sculpture opening on the inside. They reminded me of the beautiful
Gothic oriels of Melrose. At each end are two fine, green cypresses,
which thrive remarkably in the soil of Palestine. The dust of a German
emperor, among others, rests in this consecrated ground. There are other
fine churches in Pisa, but the four buildings I have mentioned, are the
principal objects of interest. The tower where Count Ugolino and his
sons were starved to death by the