the women, though very agreeable, have acquired a sentimentality of language, which, without restraining their morals, merely lends their gallantry an air of affectation. There is more vanity, as there is more society, here, than in the rest of Italy. Where applause is quick and frequent, conceit calculates all debts instantaneously; knows what success is owed, and claims its due, without giving a minute's credit. Its bills must be paid at sight. Still, much originality may be found in Venice. Ladies of the highest rank receive visits in the _cafés_, and this strange confusion prevents their _salons_ becoming the arenas of serious self-love. There yet remain here some ancient usages that evince a respect for their forefathers, and a certain youth of heart which tires not of the past, nor shrinks from melting recollections. The sight of the city itself is always sufficient to awaken a host of memories. The Piazza is crowded by blue tents, beneath which rest Turks, Greeks and Armenians, who sometimes also loll carelessly in open boats, with stands of flowers at their feet. St. Mark's, too, looks rather like a mosque than a Christian temple; and its vicinity gives a true idea of the oriental indolence with which life is spent here, in drinking sherbet, and smoking perfumed pipes. Men and women of quality never leave their houses, except in black mantles; while the gondolas are often winged along by rowers clad in white, with rose-colored sashes, as if holiday array were abandoned to the vulgar, while the nobility kept up a vow of perpetual mourning. In most European towns, authors are obliged carefully to avoid depicting the daily routine; for our customs, even in luxury, are rarely poetic; but in Venice nothing appears coarse; the canals, the boats, make pictures of the commonest events in life.