A daughter of the king, the Princess Christina, has just married her uncle, the King of Spain, and a frigate is about to sail with a portion of the royal _trousseau_. I have visited this vessel, which is a pretty ship, and I feel persuaded that this nation, with its materials, could it bear the expense in money, might easily become a naval power to command respect in this sea. The country is all coast, has an uncommonly fine population, in a physical sense at least, and wants only the moral qualities necessary to carry out such a plan. The weather changed soon after we came to Naples, and it has taught us what is really meant by Neapolitan skies. Until the middle of October, I had no notion of the extent of their beauty, which, though not absolutely unknown to us, is of a kind that we know the least. There is a liquid softness in the atmosphere, during the autumnal months, that you must have observed, for we are not without it in America. By this, however, I do not mean, the bright genial days of September and October, that are vulgarly praised as the marks of a fine autumn, but the state of the air, which renders every thing soft, and lends prismatic colours, in particular to the horizon, morning and evening. These colours are quite unlike the ordinary gorgeousness of an American sunset, being softer, more varied, and quicker in their transitions. I have often seen them, in October and November, near the American coast, when at sea, in latitudes as low as 40°; but they are by no means frequent on shore; still we have them, though seldom, perhaps never, in the perfection they are seen here. You will smile at my old passion for fine skies and landscape scenery, but I have climbed to the castle of St. Elmo a dozen times within the last month to see the effect of the sunset. Just as the day disappears, a soft rosy tint illumines the base of Vesuvius, and all the crowded objects of the coast, throwing a glow on the broad Campagna that enables one almost to fancy it another Eden. While these beautiful transitions are to be seen on the earth, the heavens reflect them, as the cheek of a young girl reflects the rose in her bosom. Of the hues of the clouds at such moments, it is impossible to speak clearly, for they appear supernatural. At one time the whole concave is an arch of pearl; and this perhaps is succeeded by a blush as soft and as mottled as that of youth; and then a hundred hues become so blended, that it is scarcely possible to name or to enumerate them. There is no gorgeousness, no dazzling of the eye in all this, but a polished softness that wins as much as it delights the beholder. Certainly, I have never seen sunsets to compare with these, on shore, before this visit to Naples; though at sea, in low latitudes, they are more frequent, I allow.