place is marked by a marble slab representing the circumstance, protected by an iron grating, covered with a cloth. To this chapel a procession is made once after vespers, and once after midnight service, that is, twice every four-and-twenty hours; a pious farce of the most absurd and ridiculous kind, because without any good end or object imaginable; in fact, what could they do more to honour the very spot on which our Saviour himself suffered? But the mendicant orders are every where remarkable for absurd practices, childish forms of devotion, and pious trumpery of every kind, to amuse the populace and attract them to their churches. From the chapel of the Stemmate to the church runs a long gallery, painted in fresco by different friars of the convent, and representing the whole history of the Saint in chronological order. The church itself presents nothing remarkable, and is, like most others belonging to the same order, overloaded with insignificant tasteless ornaments. In one of its chapels, called from its destination Delle Reliquie, they show a large collection of bones of different saints, together with numberless other articles of equal importance, such as a cup, glass, and table-cloth, given to St. Francis by Count Orlando, a piece of a crosier belonging to St. Thomas of Canterbury, &c. &c.

The number of friars is about eighty, of whom twenty-two are priests. They received us with cordiality, and took great pains to supply us with every convenience and comfort, and in this respect surpassed the hospitality of their Benedictin neighbours. After a minute observation, both of the convent and mountain which employed a day, we returned to Camaldoli, and early next morning set out from thence with an intention of reaching Florence distant about six-and-thirty miles, that evening.

To Prato Vecchio we followed the road we came by, and thence, leaving Vallombrosa on the left, descended into the Val d'Arno Inferiore at Ponte Sieve, and made direct for Florence, where we rejoined our friends.

This little excursion afforded us much satisfaction, and indeed fully answered our expectations. We had passed a week in monasteries, and acquired, if not an intimate, at least something more than a superficial acquaintance with the practices of monastic life. We observed in them some things to censure, and some to praise; among the former we may number the useless austerities and overstrained self-denial of the Camaldolese hermits, and which we considered as still more offensive, the mummery and grimace of the Franciscans of Lavernia. We cannot but consider it as a peculiar advantage that our laws authorize no establishments which can encourage the delusions of exaggerated devotion, or propagate absurd practices and legendary tales to the discredit and debasement of true sound religion. Again, the institution of mendicant orders we cannot but reprobate, as we do not see why those who can work should beg, nor can we discover either utility or decency in sending out at certain stated periods a few holy vagrants upon a marauding expedition, to prowl around the country and forage for the convent*. We consider a poverty so practised, that is, at the expense of the poor, as in fact oppression of the poor, and as such we wish to see it proscribed as a vice, and not recommended as a virtue. If individual poverty has either merit or utility, and it inay if practised with prudence, have much of both, it may be exercised in the independent

* On the mendicancy of the friars I mean to enlarge hereafter, when speaking of the state of religion in Italy.

and dignified manner of the Benedictins and other monks, of whom it may justly be said, privatus illis census brevis erat Commune magnum Of these latter orders therefore and of their magnificent abbies we are willing to speak with respect, and almost with admiration. Raised far from towns and cities they display the glories of architecture and painting in the midst of rocks and mountains, spread life and industry over the face of deserts, spend a noble income on the spot where it is raised, supply the poor when healthy with labour, when sick with advice, drugs, and constant attendance, educate all the children of their dependants gratis, and keep up a grand display of religious pomp in their churches, and literary magnificence in their libraries. In fact, these abbies are great colleges, where the fellowships are for life, and every member obliged to constant residence. Protestants, without doubt, may wish to see many reforms introduced into monasteries, but it would ill become them to pass a general sentence of anathema upon all such institu tions, because they may have been shocked at the useless severities of one order, or disgusted with the childish processions of another. The violence of polemical contest between the two churches is now over, and its subsequent heats and animosities are subsided, it is to be hoped, for ever; concessions may be made without inconvenience on both sides: the candid catholic will have no difficulty in acknowledging that there is much to be reformed, and the candid protestant will as readily admit, that there is much to be admired in monastic institutions; the former will confess that Christ's Hospital is now employed to better purpose than when crowded with mendicant Franciscans, and the latter will not hesitate to own that a congregation of Benedictins would improve and animate the lonely solitudes of Tintern and Vale Crucis.

PIETRA MALA

Another pleasant and curious excursion from Florence is to Pietra Mala, a mountain that rises in the middle of the Apennines on the road to Bologna, about forty miles from Florence. This mountain is rendered remarkable by a flame that spreads over a small part of its surface, and burns. almost continually without producing any of those destructive effects which accompany volcanic explosions. The departure of two friends for Bologna afforded an additional inducement to make this little excursion. The road is interesting all the way.

At Pratolino, about six miles from Florence, is one of the most celebrated of the Grand Duke's villas; it was built about the middle of the sixteenth century, but is less remarkable for its architecture than for its groves, its fountains, and, above all, for a colossal statue of the Apennine, whose interior is hollowed into caverns, and watered by perpetual fountains. Further on, on the summit of Monte Senario, rise the towers of an ancient convent, founded or rather enlarged by St. Philip Benitius, a noble Florentine, who obtained the title of saint by devoting his time and his talents to the propagation of peace, forgiveness,.. and charity in his country, then torn to pieces and desolated by the bloody contests of the Guelphs and Ghibellines.

The road from Pratolino runs at the foot of a romantic ridge of hills that branch out from the Apennines, and rise in elevation as they approach the central chain of these mountains. We passed successively through Fontebuono, Tagliaferro, and

Cafaggiolo. From this latter place the road continues to wind up the hills through scenery wild and grotesque. At Maschera the view is delightful. A villa rises on a ridge, from whence the traveller may enjoy the landscape to the greatest advantage. On one side he looks down upon an extensive valley nearly circular, enclosed by steep mountains, finely varied throughout. with wood and cultivated slopes; in the middle, appear the white walls of Scarperia; and on the declivity of a mountain to the north, gleams the village of Gagliano. A large forest extends from the foot of the mountains to the very centre of the valley, and by contrasting with the olive-trees and vineyards on its sides give it both richness and variety. Several bold swells interspersed here and there, graced with oaks and other forest trees, sometimes growing in little groupes, and sometimes rising single, relieve the flatness of the plain, and give it a sufficient degree of undulation. Behind the house, lies a more contracted valley, which winds round the ridge on which the house stands, and joins the larger on the Florence road. This vale forms part of the celebrated Val di Mugallo, anciently with little variation Mugiella Vallis, whither one of the Gothic generals with his army advanced from Florence, which he was then besieging, to meet the Roman legions hastening by forced marches to relieve the town; here the armies encountered, and the barbarian was with all his followers cut to pieces*. This victory took place in the year 407, and was, I believe, the last glorious achieve

* Two events of the kind took place here or in the vicinity-Totila's army was defeated by Narses in the Mugiella Vallis: Radagaisus, with his whole army, was taken and slaughtered by Stilicho in the immediate neighbourhood of Florence. The latter event is here alluded to.