ch regret, and
with the calmness which has been produced by time. But it cannot be
denied that he endured most mortifying and irritating provocations,
which never could have taken place had Shelley lived. We are glad that
he has had an opportunity of leaving a generous and forgiving record
of this remarkable portion of his life; and certainly nothing can be
more delightful than his present account of it:--

"The greatest comfort I experienced," he says, "in Italy
was living in the same neighborhood, and thinking, as I went
about, of Boccaccio. Boccaccio's father had a house at Maiano,
supposed to have been situated at the Fiesolan extremity of
the hamlet. That merry-hearted writer was so fond of the place
that he has not only laid the two scenes of the 'Decameron' on
each side of it, with the valley which his company resorted
to in the middle, but has made the two little streams which
embrace Maiano, the Affrico and the Mensola, the hero and the
heroine of his 'Nimphale Fiesolano.' The scene of another of
his works is on the banks of the Margnone, a river a little
distant; and the 'Decameron' is full of the neighboring
villages. Out of the windows of one side of our house we saw
the turret of the Villa Gherardi, to which, according to
his biographers, his 'joyous company' resorted in the first
instance. A house belonging to the Macchiavelli was near, a
little to the left; and farther to the left, among the blue
hills, was the white village, Settignano, where Michael Angelo
was born. The house is still in possession of the family. From
our windows on the other side we saw, close to us, the Fiesole
of antiquity and of Milton, the site of the Boccaccio-house
before mentioned; still closer, the _Decameron's_ Valley of
Ladies at our feet; and we looked over toward the quarter
of the Mignone and of a house of Dante, and in the distance
beheld the mountains of Pistria. Lastly, from the terrace in
front, Florence lay clear and cathedraled before us, with the
scene of Redi's _Bacchus_ rising on the other side of it, and
the villa of Arcetri, famous for Galileo. Hazlitt, who came to
see me there, beheld the scene around us with the admiration
natural to a lover of old folios and great names, and
confessed, in the language of Burns, that it was a sight to
enrich the eyes.

"My daily walk was to Fi