y policy to do so.

We are politely shown over the castle by one of the National Guard, who
hold it in charge, and see lounging upon one of its terraces, carefully
guarded, but kindly allowed all practicable liberty, several officers of
the late power, prisoners where they had formerly held despotic sway. We
descend into the now empty dungeons, dark and noisome as they have been
described, where victims of political accusation or suspicion have pined
for years in dreary solitude. It produces a marked sensation in the
minds of our Italian companions in this sad tour of inspection, when
we tell them, through our guide Antonio, that these cells are the
counterpart of the dungeons of the condemned in the prison of the Doges
of Venice, as we had seen them a few days before,--save that the latter
were better, in their day, in so far as in them the cold stone was
originally lined and concealed by wooden casings, while in those before
us the helpless prisoner in his gropings could touch only the hard rock,
significant of the relentless despotism which enchained him. The walls
are covered with the inscriptions of former tenants. In One place we
discover a long line of marks in groups of fives,--like the tallies of
our boyish sports,--but here used for how different a purpose! Were
these the records of days, or weeks, or months? The only furniture of
the cells is a raised platform of wood, the sole bed of the miserable
inmate. The Italian visitors, before leaving, childishly vent their
useless rage at the sight of these places of confinement, by breaking to
pieces the windows and shutters, and scattering their fragments on the
floor.

We have returned from Sant' Elmo, and, evening having arrived, are
sitting in the smoking-room of the Hotel de Grande Bretagne, conversing
with one of the English Volunteers, when our friend General J--n of the
British Army, one of the lookers-on in Naples, comes in, having just
returned from "the front." He brings the news of a smart skirmish which
has taken place during the day; of the English "Excursionists" being
ordered out in advance; of their rushing with alacrity into the thickest
of the fight, and bravely sustaining the conflict,--being, indeed,
with difficulty withheld by their officers from needlessly exposing
themselves. But this inspiring news is tinged with sadness. One of their
number, well known and much beloved, had fallen, killed instantly by a
bullet through the head. Military ar