The laws and customs of the Italian countries have so many minute points of difference, that the wishes of some of the patriots of this region point towards a Confederated Republic, something like that of Switzerland. Sooner or later, Italy will inevitably become a single State: this is a result that I hold to be inevitable, though the means by which it is to be effected are still hidden. Italy, as one nation, would command the Mediterranean and the Adriatic, and the jealousies of France and England are likely to oppose more obstacles to the consolidation, than the power of Austria. The Confederation would be played on by both these powers; and it appears to me that it is just the worst mode of attempting a change, that could be adapted. In the absence of great political events, to weaken the authority of the present governments, education is the surest process, though a slow one. In no case, the people of a country should confide in foreigners for the attainment of their political ends. All history has shown that communities are not to be trusted in such matters; and if I were an Italian bent on consolidation, I would not turn my eyes beyond the Alps for relief. After all, there is so much room for meliorations more immediately serviceable, that perhaps the wisest way is, to direct the present energies to reforms, rather than to revolutions; though many here will tell you the former are to be obtained only through the latter. Our road soon led us into a great valley, the Alps gradually closing on us as we advanced, until we again found ourselves in their gigantic embraces. The Adige, a swift but brawling stream, flowed on our left, and the country gradually lost the breadth and softness of Italy in the peculiarities of a mountain district. About two o’clock, we passed a village called Avio, where we changed horses. Here we got but one postillion, short traces for the leaders, a long whip, and a new livery,—the certain signs that we were in Germany: in fact, we had crossed the line of the Tyrol, about a league to the southward. Roveredo was a town of some importance, and here we began to see some of the independence of the Tyrolese, who paid very little attention to the printed regulations of the road. I had been furnished with a _carte de route_, with instructions to enter any complaints about speed, delays, or other failure to comply with the law; and this I did at one post-house in the presence of the post-master, who had not only made a false entry as to the time of our arrival and departure, but who was impudent and dilatory. This complaint he endeavoured to defeat by correcting his own entry. To effect this, he had asked me for the way-bill; and when I found out the object, he refused to give it back again.—Thereupon, I seized him by the collar, and wrested the paper out of his hands. For a moment there were symptoms of blows; but, distrusting the result, the rogue yielded. He menaced me loudly,