look a city of the heart-a resting place for a wearied spirit. And our gondola, Henry, should be of burnished silver; and those afar-so noiselessly cutting their way through the glassy surface -those should be angels with golden wings; and, instead of an oar flashing freely, a snowy wand of mercy should beat back the kissing billows.

And Acmé, with her George, should sit on the crystal cushion of glory-and we would wait expectant for you a long long time-and then you should join us, Henry, with dear Emily.

And Thompson should be with us, too, and recline on the steps of our bark as he does now.

And together we would sail loving and happy through an amethystine sea."

During their stay in Venice, George, in spite of his increasing languor, continued to accompany his brother, in his visits to the various objects of interest which the city can boast.

The motion of the gondola appeared to havé a soothing influence on the mind of the invalid.

He would recline on the cushions, and the fast flowing tears would course down his wan cheeks.

These, however, were far from being a proof of suffering;-they were evidently a relief to the surcharged spirit.

One evening, a little before sunset, they found themselves in the crowded piazza of Saint Mark. The cafes were thronged with noble Venetians, come to witness the evening parade of an Austrian regiment. The sounds of martial music, swelled above the hum of the multitude; and few could listen to those strains, without participating in some degree, in the military enthusiasm of the

hour.

But the brothers turned from the pageantry of war, as their eyes fell on the emblems of Venice free-the minarets of St. Mark, with the horses of Lysippus, a spoil from Byzantium—the flagless poles that once bore the banners of three tributary states-the highly adorned azure clock—the palaces of the proud Doges-where Faliero reigned where Faliero suffered : these were before

them.

Their steps mechanically turned to the beautiful Campanile.

George, leaning heavily on Sir Henry's arm, succeeded in gaining the summit: and they looked down from thence, on that wonderful city.

They saw the parade dismissed-they heard the bugle's fitful blast proclaim the hour of sunset. The richest hues of crimson and of gold, tinted the opposite heavens; while on those waters, over which the gondolas were swiftly gliding, quivered another city, the magic reflection of the one beneath them.

They gazed on the scene in silence, till the grey twilight came on.

"Now, George! it is getting late," said Sir Henry. "I wonder whether we could find some old mariner, who could give us a chaunt from Tasso?"

Descending from the Campanile, Sir Henry made enquiries on the quay, and with some difficulty found gondoliers, who could still recite from their favourite bard.

Engaging a couple of boats, and placing a singer in each, the brothers were rowed down the Canale Giudecca-skirted many of the small

islands, studding the lagoons; and proceeded towards the Adriatic.

Gradually the boats parted company, and just as Sir Henry was about to speak, thinking there might be a mistake as to the directions; the gondolier in the other boat commenced his song,-its deep bass mellowed by distance, and the intervening waves. The sound was electric.

It was so exquisitely appropriate to the scene, and harmonised so admirably, with the associations which Venice is apt to awaken, that one longed to be able to embody that fleeting sound-to renew its magic influence in after years. The pen may depict man's stormy feelings: the sensitive caprice of woman :-the most vivid tints may be imitated on the glowing canvas :—the inspired marble may realise our every idea of the beauty of form :— scroll may give us at will, the divine inspiration of Handel:-but there are sounds, as there are subtle thoughts, which, away from the scenes, where they have charmed us, can never delight us

more.

It was not until the second boatman answered

the song, that the brothers felt how little the charm lay, in the voice of the gondolier, and that, heard nearer, the sounds were harsh and inharmonious.

They recited the death Clorinda; the one renewing the stanza, whenever there was a momentary forgetfulness on the part of the other.

The clock of St. Mark had struck twelve, before the travellers had reached the hotel. George had not complained of fatigue, during a day which even Sir Henry thought a trying one; and the latter was willing to hope that his strength was now increasing.

Their first design had been to proceed though Switzerland, resting for some time at Geneva. Their plans were now changed, and Sir Henry Delmé determined, that their homeward route should be through the Tyrol and Bavaria, and eventually down the Rhine.

He considered that the water carriage, and the very scenes themselves, might prove beneficial to the invalid.

Thompson was sent over to Mestré, to inform Pietro; and they prepared to take their departure.