berigo Palace, in which Titian lived and died.

The Doge's Palace is full of historic interest. We wander with mingled
feelings through its various apartments, visiting the halls of the
Council of Ten, and the still more tragic chambers of the Council of
Three. Many secret passages are threaded; we cross the Bridge of Sighs,
and descend into the dungeons in which Faliero, Foscari, and other
famous prisoners are said to have been incarcerated. These mediaeval
dungeons are wretched beyond belief, and how human beings could live and
breathe in such places is the marvel of every one who visits them in our
day. Here we are shown the apartment where the condemned prisoners were
secretly strangled, and the arched windows by which their bodies were
launched into boats on the canal, to be borne away, and sunk in the
distant lagoons. Trial, sentence, fate,--all in secret, and this was
done under the semblance of justice and a republican form of government.

The church of the Frari, whither we will next turn our steps, is in an
American's estimation quite as much of a museum as a church. It is the
Westminster Abbey of Venice, and is crowded with the monuments of doges,
statesmen, artists, philosophers, and more especially is ornamented in a
most striking manner by the tombs of Titian and Canova. These elaborate
marble structures face each other from opposite sides of the
church--monuments raised in memory of rarest genius, and which for
richness of design and completeness of finish exceed anything of the
sort in Italy.

In the square of St. Mark we have an opportunity for studying the
masses, the well-to-do classes, but not the refined and cultured; these
maintain a certain dignified exclusiveness. The uniforms of the police,
each one of whom is bedizened equal to a militia general, are a
standing caricature. One notes the many Jews among the throng; here a
turbaned Turk sits before a cafe smoking his pipe, and near by a
handsome Greek, with his red fez, smokes a cigar. There are Orientals of
all types, with jaunty Englishmen, and gay parties of Americans.

We will now pass on to Milan, once considered the second city of Italy
in importance, but it was totally destroyed in 1162 by Barbarossa, and
we therefore see a comparatively modern capital. In the olden time it
was filled with temples, baths, amphitheatres, circuses, and all the
monuments common to great Italian cities. Seven hundred years and more
have elapsed since its de