we approached it from the south,
girt with her theatre of verdant hills, and glittering in the
sunshine. All the country from Sienna to Florence is richly
cultivated; diversified with neat hamlets, farms and villas. I was
more struck with the appearance of the Tuscan peasantry on my return
from the Papal dominions than when we passed through the country
before: no where in Tuscany have we seen that look of abject negligent
poverty, those crowds of squalid beggars which shocked us in the
Ecclesiastical States. In the towns where we stopped to change horses,
we were presently surrounded by a crowd of people: the women came out
spinning, or sewing and plaiting the Leghorn hats; the children threw
flowers into our barouche, the men grinned and gaped, but there was no
vociferous begging, no disgusting display of physical evils, filth,
and wretchedness. The motive was merely that idle curiosity for which
the Florentines in all ages have been remarked. I remember an amusing
instance which occurred when I was here in December last. I was
standing one evening in the Piazza del Gran Duca, looking at the group
of the Rape of the Sabines: in a few minutes a dozen people gathered
round me, gaping at the statue, and staring at that and at me
alternately, either to enjoy my admiration, or find out the cause of
it: the people came out of the neighbouring shops, and the crowd
continued to increase, till at length, though infinitely amused, I was
glad to make my escape.

I suffered from cold when first we arrived at Florence, owing to the
change of climate, or rather to mere weakness and fatigue: to-day I
begin to doubt the possibility of outliving an Italian summer. The
blazing atmosphere which depresses the eyelids, the enervating heat,
and the rich perfume of the flowers all around us, are almost too
much.

_April 20._--During our stay at Florence, it has been one of my
favourite occupations to go to the Gallery or the Pitti Palace, and
placing my portable seat opposite to some favourite pictures, minutely
study and compare the styles of the different masters. By the style of
any particular painter, I presume we mean to express the combination
of two separate essentials--first, his peculiar conception of his
subject; secondly, his peculiar method of executing that conception,
with regard to colouring, drawing, and what artists call handling. The
former department of style lies in the mind, and will vary according
to the feelings,