ordinary. They are paved with flat irregular-shaped flag-stones, delightful for driving upon; but they have the usual inconvenient want of a trottoir or footway, and consequently the same feeling of insecurity attends one's progress through them on foot.

By far the most enviable place of residence I saw was the Lung' Arno, where a succession of palaces border either side of the river, and are connected by four bridges, among which the three graceful elliptical marble arches of the Ponte de la Santissima Trinita, and the picturesque covered passage of the Ponte Vecchio, or Ponte de' Orefici,—as it is sometimes called, from being crowded with old-fashioned, odd-looking, little jewellers' shops,-most powerfully attract one's attention.

Florence, which only rose to importance in modern times, boasts no remains of former days. Not a single fallen column, or mouldering temple, arrests our steps; but, though destitute of antiquities, it abounds in the treasures of the fine arts. The Piazza del Granduca,-besides the equestrian statue in bronze of Cosmo, the first Duke, by John of Bologna, from which it derives its name,-is ornamented with the Rape of the Sabines, a fine group in marble by the same artist; Judith in the act of murdering Holofernes, by Donatello; David triumphant over Goliah, by Michael Angelo; Hercules killing Cacus, by Bandinello; and a bronze statue of Perseus with the head of Medusa, by Benvenuto Cellini, the "mad goldsmith," of notorious memory.

The sight of bronze and marble statues, the mas

ter-pieces of modern sculpture, adorning the streets and public fountains, exposed to the weather, and courting the public eye, made us feel that Florence was indeed" the Athens of Italy," the cradle of the fine arts, and the place of their regeneration, as Athens was of their birth. It was here that the sister arts of Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, like the Graces, started at once into life, and, entwined in each other's arms, grew from infancy to maturity. It was here, after the slumber of ages, that divine Poetry first reappeared upon earth,touched the soul of Dante with that inspiration which created a language harmonized by Heaven, and revealed to him in sublime visions of hell the horrors of the world to come, and to our own Milton in glimpses of Paradise the beauty of that which was lost. It was here that infant Science, beneath the fostering care of Galileo, disclosed her light to man; and here Taste, Genius, Literature, and the Arts, which have humanized the world, flourished beneath the reign of Freedom : but with Freedom they fled for ever. This is no vain figure of speech or dream of fancy. The history of all the Italian states, and perhaps of almost every other country, gives proof of this truth. If we look back to ancient times, in Athens it was in the most glorious era of her republic,-in Etruria, it was while her states existed free and independent, and were governed by their own chosen delegates,—and in Rome, it was during the Augustan age, while yet she had known no tyrant, and the last lingering sparks of Roman freedom were unexpired-that li

It

terature and the fine arts reached their proudest pre-eminence. In modern times, it was in the republics of Florence, Pisa, Sienna, Bologna, Venice, and Genoa, that they sprung forth the companions of Freedom; and it is far more than poetically true, that they have ever followed in her train. With her they appeared upon the ungenial soil of Flanders and Holland; and with her "they sought" her last, and at present, her sole abode-England. is true, indeed, that the want of patronage, the disadvantages of climate, of isolated situation, and seclusion from the great models of art, together with other physical causes, have operated to check our country in attaining full perfection in some of the arts which are peculiary dependent upon climate, and its concomitants; though, in despite of every obstacle, I believe every competent judge will allow, that the architects and painters of England, in the reign of George the Third, have far surpassed their contemporaries in every other country; and that her sculptors are only excelled by the Canova and Thorwaldsen of Rome.*

* I might enumerate a long and brilliant list of names that are, and will be, the boast of our country in the fine arts; but I will only name a few of the living and the dead, whose genius has given it lustre-Inigo Jones, Sir Christopher Wren, the late Mr Starke, and the present Mr W. Playfair of Edinburgh, in architecture; Sir Joshua Reynolds, Hogarth, West, Wilkie, Allan, Wilson, Williams of Edinburgh, and Turner, in painting; and Flaxman and Chantry, in sculp

ture.

But in all the great and useful arts that minister to the improvement of society and the power of man, in every branch of science and literature, in poetry and eloquence, in the noblest of the fine arts themselves, and in all that is the best proof of their influence, is not England at this moment confessedly unrivalled? And without freedom, would she ever have been their seat? Have they ever visited any land, however congenial in climate or situation, which has not been blessed with freedom? Spain, Portugal, Turkey, and the whole void extent of the eastern world, where unbounded wealth was lavished in gorgeous magnificence, undirected by taste, unbrightened by genius, and undignified by knowledge, are striking exemplifications of this truth; and we may observe, that Naples and Sicily, though on the same soil, and beneath the same sun, that produced in the modern Republics of Italy, a degree of excellence in science, literature, poetry, painting, and sculpture, that almost surpassed her ancient greatness, as they have known no gleam of liberty, have seen no school of art or literature. Modern Rome, which never hailed the reign of freedom, has produced no celebrated poets, philosophers, or artists; for it has been well observed, that almost all the great men which she can boast, both in past and present times, have been transplanted thither from other states.*

I will not stop to inquire whether commerce,

Tacitus somewhere observes, that after the battle of Actium, Rome never produced a single great genius.

wealth, and prosperity, which are the inseparable attendants of freedom, may not at least equally contribute to foster the arts. It is sufficient that freedom is the primary cause of all. The fine arts may, therefore, with truth, be called the daughters of freedom. Some of them, indeed, have been enslaved. Music, "heavenly maid!" corrupted from those youthful days" when first in early Grece she sung,' and Dancing (if indeed the nymph be of legitimate birth) have enlisted themselves in the service of Despotism; and Architecture, we know, has been the slave of princes. But those nobler arts, which demand the higher energies of mind, and the force of original genius, can live only in the atmosphere of freedom. It would not perhaps be difficult to trace the cause of this, and to shew, that, beneath her influence, the mind becomes more active and vigorous, learns to trust to its own powers, and to exert them with more energy and success. But I know you are laughing at me all this time for laying down grave truths to you with so much wisdom and self-complacency. At the same time, let me tell you, that they are truths, however you may laugh, and however little dignified by years or knowledge may be the person by whom they are propounded; they are truths, moreover, that would lead to a thousand others equally just and evident; and, therefore, for my own sake as much as yours, I shall forego any further discussion of them at present, especially as I am very sleepy, which may possibly be your case also.