m thither.]

298.
A few short steps, painful they were, apart From
Tasso's convent-haven and retired grave'_(ll. 83-5).

This, though introduced here, I did not know till it was told me at Rome
by Miss Mackenzie of Seaforth, a lady whose friendly attentions, during
my residence at Rome, I have gratefully acknowledged with expressions of
sincere regret that she is no more. Miss M. told me that she had
accompanied Sir Walter to the Janicular Mount, and, after showing him
the grave of Tasso in the church upon the top, and a mural monument
there erected to his memory, they left the church, and stood together on
the brow of the hill overlooking the city of Rome. His daughter Anne was
with them, and she, naturally desirous, for the sake of Miss Mackenzie
especially, to have some expression of pleasure from her father, half
reproached him for showing nothing of that kind either by his looks or
voice. 'How can I,' replied he, 'having only one leg to stand upon, and
that in extreme pain?' so that the prophecy was more than fulfilled.

299. '_Over waves rough and deep_' (line 122).

We took boat near the lighthouse at the point of the right horn of the
bay, which makes a sort of natural port for Genoa; but the wind was
high, and the waves long and rough, so that I did not feel quite
recompensed by the view of the city, splendid as it was, for the danger
apparently incurred. The boatman (I had only one) encouraged me, saying,
we were quite safe; but I was not a little glad when we gained the
shore, though Shelley and Byron--one of them at least who seemed to have
courted agitation from every quarter--would have probably rejoiced in
such a situation. More than once, I believe, were they both in extreme
danger even on the Lake of Geneva. Every man, however, has his fears of
some kind or other, and, no doubt, they had theirs. Of all men whom I
have ever known, Coleridge had the most of passive courage in bodily
trial, but no one was so easily cowed when moral firmness was required
in miscellaneous conversation or in the daily intercourse of social
life.

300.

'_How lovely_--_didst thou appear, Savona_' (ll. 209-11).

There is not a single bay along this beautiful coast that might not
raise in a traveller a wish to take up his abode there; each as it
succeeds seems more inviting than the other; but the desolated convent
on the cliff in the bay of Savona struck my fancy most; and had I, for
the sake of my ow