Italy, I expected that I would surely not see much to interest me except her rich stores of art and the ancient ruins.  But less than a day at Turin convinced me that I had by no means entered a country whose people were behind hand in civilization and refinement; and when on my way from Turin to Milan I saw how much clearer and brighter the blue heavens were, how much sweeter the air smelt than any I had ever breathed before, (not excepting that of Paris, even), and how much fairer the people were than any other that I had yet seen, I felt that I must surely be on the border of that charming paradise which the poets make of Italy, but for which I had never given them due credit.

Italy’s Fair Sons and Daughters.

I now come to a dry subject, especially for old people; but numbers of my young friends, among them several editors and teachers, requested me very earnestly to take particular notice which country contained the fairest specimens of the human species.  Why these literary characters are so deeply interested in this question, I cannot tell, but my duty is plain enough—­they want “a true and impartial statement of the facts,” which I will endeavor to render them.  I observed everywhere that culture and personal beauty always go together.  When I came to a city that had clean and beautiful streets and houses, I invariably found good looking people there; but in the rural districts generally, and in suburbs and wretched towns, beauty and culture are at a lower ebb.  I now refer to that form of beauty which is dependent upon personal accomplishments and intellectual endowments and culture—­that beauty which beams from an intellectual countenance and sparkles from eyes that glisten with pleasure.  That is the kind of beauty that renders 90 per cent. of the individuals in all cultivated society acceptable, and 20 per cent. charming and attractive, but which is wanting to nine tenths of those who cannot, or do not, pay attention to cultivation and refinement.  There are a very few persons whose forms and features please and fascinate even without the aid of accomplishments.  These may be said to be possessed of native beauty, which is met with very seldom in all countries that have a climate unfavorable to health.  If I had not gone to Italy, I should not have hesitated to give my preference to the mild climate of Paris, where health and beauty are the natural result of a warm temperature, almost semi-tropical in mildness, and where the highest art assists to make every grace shine.  But when I saw how nature dotes upon Italy, I felt as if she was only acting the step-mother to the rest of the world.  The loveliest portion of Italy is the valley of the Po.  One sees fewer sickly or consumptive people in some parts of England, France and Germany, than in our section of America, but in Turin and Milan every person looks hale, healthy, happy and beautiful, from the tender days of infancy to a ripe old age.