of church bells sounding through space! But time flies; I wish yet, to see Florence, and to reach Rome before the beautiful time of year is quite over, and I would avail myself of the present good temper of the weather, in order properly to see and enjoy the celebrated beauties of the road between Genoa and Pisa; we shall therefore, make the journey leisurely, and by easy stages, with a careful Vetturino.
La Spezia, November 4th.—All the praise which has been lavished upon this road, gives but little idea of its beauty, which eye and thought are incapable of taking in. Bed roses nod from the nearest walls of the terraces; beyond these, shine out groves of oranges, laurels, and myrtles—on the right, lies the sea, calm, and grand; before us, and on the left, the Apennines, in lofty billows, with olive-woods, villas, towns, churches, vineyards in their bosom. It is incomparably fine! The road clambers up mountains, sweeps round bays of the sea, presenting continually new pictures, where the delightful and the grand are united;—wonderful! The most lovely summer weather enabled us calmly to enjoy these scenes to the full, and many an unspoken, grateful sentiment rose from the beautiful earth to the mild summer-heaven above it. Swarms of begging children, however, which ran after our carriage great part of the way, disturbed the quiet enjoyment of the journey. Is this beggary the result of an evil habit, or of actual poverty? In either case, it is equally melancholy, and Piedmont will not have done her duty until this condition ceases.
We passed the first night of our journey at Sestri,
