property of decomposing all human bodies, in the space of two days.  A colonnade of marble encloses it, with windows of the most exquisite sculpture opening on the inside.  They reminded me of the beautiful Gothic oriels of Melrose.  At each end are two fine, green cypresses, which thrive remarkably in the soil of Palestine.  The dust of a German emperor, among others, rests in this consecrated ground.  There are other fine churches in Pisa, but the four buildings I have mentioned, are the principal objects of interest.  The tower where Count Ugolino and his sons were starved to death by the citizens of Pisa, who locked them up and threw the keys into the Arno, has lately been destroyed.

An Italian gentleman having made a bargain in the meantime with our vetturino, we found every thing ready on returning to the hotel.  On the outside of the town we mounted into the vehicle, a rickety-looking concern, and as it commenced raining, I was afraid we would have a bad night of it.  After a great deal of bargaining, the vetturino agreed to take us to Florence that night for five francs a piece, provided one person would sit on the outside with the driver.  I accordingly mounted on front, protected by a blouse and umbrella, for it was beginning to rain dismally.  The miserable, bare-boned horses were fastened with rope-traces, and the vetturino having taken the rope-lines in his hand, gave a flourish with his whip; one old horse tumbled nearly to the ground, but he jerked him up again and we rattled off.

After riding ten miles in this way, it became so wet and dreary, that I was fain to give the driver two francs extra, for the privilege of an inside seat.  Our Italian companion was agreeable and talkative, but as we were still ignorant of the language, I managed to hold a scanty conversation with him in French.  He seemed delighted to learn that we were from America; his polite reserve gave place to a friendly familiarity and he was loud in his praises of the Americans.  I asked him why it was that he and the Italians generally, were so friendly towards us.  “I hardly know,” he answered; “you are so different from any other nation; and then, too, you have so much sincerity!”

The Appenines were wreathed and hidden in thick mist, and the prospect over the flat cornfields bordering the road was not particularly interesting.  We had made about one-third of the way as night set in, when on ascending a hill soon after dark, F——­ happened to look out, and saw one of the axles bent and nearly broken off. we were obliged to get out and walk through the mud to the next village, when after two hours’ delay, the vetturino came along with another carriage.  Of the rest of the way to Florence, I cannot say much.  Cramped up in the narrow vehicle, we jolted along in the dark, rumbling now and then through some silent village, where lamps were burning before the solitary shrines.  Sometimes a blinding light crossed the road, where we saw the tile-makers sitting in the red glare of their kilns, and often the black boughs of trees were painted momentarily on the cloudy sky.  If the jolting carriage had even permitted sleep, the horrid cries of the vetturino, urging on his horses, would have prevented it; and I decided, while trying to relieve my aching limbs, that three days’ walking in sun and sand was preferable to one night of such travel.