ression--a loathsome mass of putrified (sic) matter--and the
surgeon separating the head from the body, because the coffin had
been made too short! He stood for a moment motionless in amazement,
and filled with horror--and then retired from the world, shut
himself up in the convent of La Trappe, where he passed the remainder
of his days in the most cruel and disconsolate devotion.--Let us
quit this sad subject.

I MUST not forget to tell you, that before I came to this monastery,
I went to see the burning mountains near Fierenzuola, of which the
naturalists speak as a great curiosity. The flame it sends forth is
without smoke, and resembles brandy set on fire. The ground about it
is well cultivated, and the fire appears only in one spot where there
is a cavity, whose circumference is small, but in it are several
crevices whose depths are unknown. It is remarkable, that when a
piece of wood is thrown into this cavity, though it cannot pass
through the crevices, yet it is consumed in a moment; and that though
the ground about it be perfectly cold, yet if a stick be rubbed with
any force against it, it emits a flame, which, however, is neither
hot nor durable like that of the volcano. If you desire a more
circumstantial account of this phenomenon, and have made a sufficient
progress in Italian, to read father Carazzi's description of it, you
need not be at a loss, for I have sent this description to Mr F----,
and you have only to ask it of him. After observing the volcano, I
Scrambled up all the neighbouring hills, partly on horse-back, partly
on foot, but could find no vestige of fire in any of them; though
common report would make one believe that they all contain volcanos.

I HOPE you have not taken it in your head to expect from me a
description of the famous gallery, here, where I arrived on Thursday
at noon; this would be requiring a volume instead of a letter;
besides I have as yet seen but a part of this immense treasure, and I
propose employing some weeks more to survey the whole. You cannot
imagine any situation more agreeable than Florence. It lies in a
fertile and smiling valley watered by the Arno, which runs through
the city; and nothing can surpass the beauty and magnificence of its
public buildings, particularly the cathedral, whose grandeur filled
me with astonishment. The palaces, squares, fountains, statues,
bridges, do not only carry an aspect full of elegance and greatness,
but discover a ta