Some of the old palaces are fine, one in particular which seems to be a sort of bourse now. The portico was crowded with men, all talking at the top of their voices. We had glimpses through the crowd of a fine collection of broken columns, statues, tablets and bas-reliefs inside, but we didn't attempt to get in; though a friendly workman in the street, seeing us stopping and looking, evident strangers, told us we ought to go in and see "le bellezze" (the beautiful things). There is an equestrian statue on one side of the palace--I couldn't quite make out the name, but the inscription says that among other great deeds he "burnt many heretics." I don't suppose they gave him his statue exclusively on that account, but the fact was carefully mentioned. We wandered about rather aimlessly, leaving the Piazza, and finally found ourselves in a wide, handsome street--large palaces on one side and the canal running through the middle. The canal is really very picturesque--the water fairly clear, reflecting the curious, high, carved balconies and loggias (some of them covered with creepers and bright coloured flowers) that hang over the canal. They seemed all large houses, with the back giving on the canal; some of the low doors opening straight out on the water were quite a reminder of Venice; and when there was a terrace with white marble balustrade and benches one could quite imagine some of Paul Veronese's beautiful, fair-haired women with their pearls and gorgeous red and gold garments disporting themselves there in the summer evenings. The palaces on the other side of the street are fine, stately mansions--large doors open, showing great square courts, sometimes two or three stretching far back--sometimes a fountain and grass plot in the middle--sometimes arcades running all around the court, with balconies and small pointed windows--coats-of-arms up over the big doors, but no signs of life--no magnificent porters such as one sees in Rome in all the great houses. They all looked in perfectly good condition and well cared for. I wonder who lives in them. We came out at the Place Cavour and had a look at the statue, which is good--in bronze--an energetic standing figure with a fine head, very like--one would have recognised it anywhere from all the pictures one has always seen of Cavour. There is no group--he standing alone on a granite pedestal--a woman (Fame) kneeling, and writing his name on a scroll. I liked it very much--it is so simple, and we have seen so many allegorical groups and gods and goddesses lately that it was rather a relief to see anything quite plain and intelligible.