man voices, by the chime of the vesper bells, borne
over the water, and the sounds of music raised at intervals along the
canals. The poetry, the romance of the scene stole upon me unawares. I
fell into a reverie, in which visionary forms and recollections gave
way to dearer and sadder realities, and my mind seemed no longer in my
own power. I called upon the lost, the absent, to share the present
with me,--I called upon past feelings to enhance that moment's
delight. I did wrong--and memory avenged herself as usual. I quitted
my seat on the balcony, with despair at my heart, and drawing to the
table, took out my books and work. So passed our first evening at
Venice.

Yesterday we visited the Accademia where there are some fine pictures.
The famous assumption by Titian is here, and first made me _feel_ what
connoisseurs mean when they talk of the carnations and draperies of
Titian. We were shown two designs for monuments to the memory of
Titian, modelled by Canova. Neither of them has been erected; but the
most beautiful, with a little alteration, and the substitution of a
lady's bust for Titian's venerable head, has been dedicated, I
believe, to the memory of the Archduchess Christina of Austria. I
remember also an exquisite Canaletti, quite different in style and
subject from any picture of this master I ever saw.

We then rowed to the ducal palace. The council chamber (I thought of
Othello as I entered it) is now converted into a library. The walls
are decorated with the history of Pope Alexander the Third, and
Frederic Barbarossa, painted by the Tintoretti, father and son, Paul
Veronese and Palma. Above them, in compartments, hang the portraits of
the Doges; among which Marino Faliero is _not_; but his name only,
inscribed on a kind of black pall. The Ganymede is a most exquisite
little group, attributed to the age of Praxiteles; and not without
reason even to the hand of that sculptor.

To-day we visited several churches--rich, on the outside, with all the
luxury of architecture,--withinside, gorgeous with painting,
sculpture, and many-coloured marbles. The prodigality with which the
most splendid and costly materials are lavished here is perfectly
amazing: pillars of lapis-lazuli, columns of Egyptian porphyry, and
pavements of mosaic, altars of alabaster ascended by steps incrusted
with agate and jasper:--but to particularize would be in vain. I will
only mention three or four which I wish to recollect: the Chu