those around him, and espoused their cause, though his coalition with them might be attended with no little risk to himself.

But even while thus acting Byron could laugh at, and ridicule his own quixotism with more wit and humour than could be called into play against it by others. With a temperament that peculiarly exposed him to acts of chivalric rashness, Byron possessed so quick a perception of the ridiculous, that he could not disguise from himself the indiscretion of many of his own proceedings; and while pursuing conduct that his sober judgment disapproved, he would, as if in atonement, indulge in a mockery of it, more sarcastic than that of those who wished to attack him.

The custode who showed us the apartments was loud in his praises of Lord Byron, and recounted various instances of his charity.

"He could not see a person in distress without succouring him," said he, "and the poor of Ravenna and its neighbourhood soon discovered this benevolent disposition, and beset him every day when he went to the Pigneta.* But it was not money alone that he gave them, signora, kind words and a patient hearing of their misfortunes accompanied his gifts; and, paupers as they were, they valued these scarcely less. I remember well his meeting a poor woman of extreme age, and his telling her to come here; when he not only heard her tale of distress, but gave her gold, and a weekly pension beside."

I questioned the man about the habits of Byron, and he answered that they were molto bizzario, always reading or writing, taking little pleasure except in riding in the Pigneta, or playing with his favourite animals.

"Though profuse to the poor," continued the custode, "he indulged in no luxuries himself, signora; and there was not a servitor in this Palazzo, that would not have thought himself aggrieved, had his repasts been so scanty, and of so ordinary a quality as those of the Lord Byron. He was not, like the generality of the travellers we hear of (for here we see but few), pampered, and never satisfied with the fare set before them. He was greatly beloved at Ravenna, and we all grieved when he left us.".

*The name by which the Ravennese call the Forest.

On showing us the suite of apartments formerly occupied by the Contessa Guiccioli, he pointed to a very ill-executed portrait representing her playing on the pianoforte; and assured us that it by no means rendered her justice, she being fairer, he averred, than even the dames of northern lands, and with golden hair. "We were all proud and glad, signora, when the Count Guiccioli brought home his beautiful young bride. Oimé! we thought not that either would have cause to regret the nuptials. The Count belongs to one of the most ancient families in Italy, and the lady descends from a long line of illustrious ancestors. Her grandmother, a celebrated beauty in her time, was daughter to the Marquis di Bagno of Mantua; and her mother, who died in childbirth only a year or so after the young Countess's marriage, was a very handsome lady, and daughter of the Contessa Macherelli; one of whose sisters married the Count Cobentzel of Vienna, and by another sister the family became allied to the noble houses of Erdeddi, Nadasti, and Esterhazy."

The old servitor seemed to have so much pleasure in recapitulating the grandeur of the family connexions of the Countess, that I listened patiently to his statement, which appeared to delight him not a little.

"She was a kind and gentle lady, with a smiling face, and an open hand," said the custode. "She loved this stranger lord, and, for the matter of that, so did all who approached him. Poor lady! how his death must have afflicted her!

"In this room, signora," said he, as we entered another chamber, "Lord Byron slept. Often has the light been seen burning in it till long after day had appeared; and we used to marvel that one who was rich, and able to command all the. luxuries of life, could prefer so abstemious a mode of existence, and such incessant toil. I have seen these chambers so littered with books that there was scarcely room to move about in them."

We lingered in the apartments which had been occupied by one whose society we had so much enjoyed, and whose untimely death we had so sincerely lamented. The silence and solitude of the place, and the gloom that always pervades chambers long uninhabited, was in harmony with the state of our feelings and it was with a sentiment approaching reverence that we paused before the spot where the table once

stood, on which he wrote poems that have found their way all over Europe, and have been translated into many languages.

The power Byron possessed of exciting attachment in those around him was very remarkable, when it is considered how little pains he took to effect it. Even in those who could feel no interest or sympathy in his occupations or fame, this attachment was found to exist; as, for instance, in the man who showed us the Palazzo Guiccioli, and who, being the servant of Count Guiccioli, might be supposed to entertain a prejudice against the person who had rivalled his master.

"And your lady," asked one of our party, "how used she to fill up the long hours in this dwelling?"

"They never seemed long to her, signora; for what with her books, and she was nearly as fond of reading as Lord Byron himself, and her embroidery, and her music, she was always employed. She doted on flowers, and an abundant supply was always placed in her apartments; and her clear voice might be heard singing many an hour in the day, like that of some sweet bird in its cage, or reading Dante aloud. And then, when Lord Byron went to visit her in the evenings, those who waited on them said, they used to talk of all they had done through the day and she used to render him an account of her studies, as a scholar would to a preceptor, and he would smile, and look at her so fondly, and she, poor lady, would appear so happy!"

This naïf picture of the domestic interior of the poet and the object of his tenderness, coming from a source that could not be suspected of misrepresentation, greatly interested us; and the description of the Contessa Guiccioli perfectly harmonised with the impression I formed of her at Rome.

Ravenna, of all the Italian cities, is that which is least frequented by, or known to English travellers. It is to this circumstance that it owes the preservation of its primitive habits and customs, a peculiarity which, in my opinion, greatly enhances its attractions. Few towns in Italy offer more objects of interest to the antiquarian, philosopher, and poet, than does Ravenna; but its geographical position, placing it out of any of the beaten tracks, exempts it from being resorted to by the general mass of strangers who swarm through the other parts of this beautiful land.

The noblesse of Ravenna remember and are proud of the protection afforded by one of their princes, Guido Novello da

Polenta, to Dante; and entertain a love of and taste for literature, not often to be found in a city so remote from what might be considered the more civilized parts of Italy; but which, in truth, are only more populous, and more advanced in the adoption of those luxuries imported by their foreign frequenters. Perhaps it is to this very remoteness, and to the escape from the contagion of modern luxury, which they owe to it, that many of them bestow the time, that might be so much less rationally spent, in the cultivation of literature and the fine arts. Professor Costa, of Bologna, springs from a noble family of Ravenna; and the Marquis Cavalli has given an admirable translation of Tibullus. It is probably to this isolation also, that the good understanding, amounting almost to the feelings of feudal times, but without any of the defects that marked that epoch, are maintained in so remarkable a degree between the aristocracy, the middle class, and the people of Ravenna..

This feeling was strikingly evinced during the last attempt made to change the form of government there, when the noblesse displayed a strong sympathy with the people. The aristocracy of Ravenna are nevertheless considered to be among the proudest of Italy, and, fière of their ancient descent, consider themselves far superior to those of the Roman princes, whose titles date only from the pontifical elevation of their ancestors.

A proof of their pride of ancient nobility of birth, and the distinction they consider due to it, is that when the young nobles of Ravenna, of comparatively small fortunes, wish to wed, they think themselves privileged to demand the daughters of the highest families in the other parts of Italy, and with large dowers; nor are their pretensions denied. Hence the aristocracy of Ravenna is allied with the most noble houses of Italy; and the ancient names of Rusponi, Porro, Foscarini, Cavalli, Gamba, Guiccioli, and others, whose palaces are still occupied by the descendants of their original proprietors, vouch for the antiquity of the nobility of Ravenna.

Ravenna has gained little since it was ceded to the papal see, in 1529, by the Venetians. Long the seat of empire under the sway of Theodoric, it subsequently was ruled by exarchs, appointed by the Greek emperors, from whom it was taken by the Lombards, and afterwards became the property of the Venetians. The churches bear evidence of its former prosperity, and the cathedral, though modernized, is a good building.

The cupola of the Aldobrandini chapel is painted by Guido, and is very fine, as is also a picture by the same master in the church, representing the Israelites gathering manna.

The church of St. Apollinarus, which is out of the town, is enriched with several columns of Grecian marble of great beauty; and the altar and tribune are peculiarly rich, being incrusted with oriental alabaster and rare marbles. The ceiling of the tribune is a fine specimen of mosaic, the figures being remarkable for their force and expression.

St. Vitale is a large old building, and has some antique columns of Grecian marble, the effect of which is, however, much impaired by their bases being sunk in the ground. The pavement is very curious; and the mosaics that decorate the choir, as also some bassi rilievi, offer very interesting studies to the antiquarian.

The church of St. John has been so modernized that it retains little of its original decoration, and Placidia, its architect, would now hardly recognize it as his work. The beautiful old columns of Cipolline, and some good specimens of verde-antico and porphyry, attest its pristine splendour. A portion of the original mosaic pavement is preserved in a chapel, and is said to date from the fourth century. The square is ornamented by two pillars of granite, statues of Clement XII. and Alexander VII., and a curious old statue of Hercules with a globe on his shoulder, which serves as a sun-dial.

The tomb of Theodoric is of a rotund form, the basement and attic serving as chapels. The roof is of granite, and on it four columns stood, on which was placed the sarcophagus of porphyry which is now in the convent of Zoccolanti.

The tomb of Dante arrests the attention of every traveller who visits Ravenna; and, as we paused before it, I gave a sigh to the memory of that sublime poet, whose pages have charmed many an hour.

Few great writers have left behind them a more noble character than that of Dante, whether regarded for the spirit of independence which so peculiarly characterized him,-a spirit that preserved him even when an exile, and deprived of his fortune, from ever submitting to an indignity,-or for the ardent desire to render impartial justice to all parties, in a period of political excitement when few were capable of such conduct. Belonging to, and a warm partizan of the Guelphs, when that faction had succeeded in expelling the Ghibbelines from Flo