They say that in the few seconds of a drowning agony a man calls up every incident of his life,--from infancy to the last moment,--that a whole panorama of his existence is unrolled before him, and that he sees himself--child, boy, youth, and man--vividly and palpably; that all his faults, his short-comings, and his transgressions stand out in strong colors before him, and his character is revealed to him like an inscription. I am half persuaded this may be true, judging from what I have myself experienced within these few hours of solitude here. Shame, sorrow, and regret are ever present with me. I feel utterly disgraced before the bar of my own conscience. Even of the advantages which foreign travel might have conferred, how few have fallen to my share!--in modern languages I have scarcely made any progress, with respect to works of art I am deplorably ignorant, while in everything that concerns the laws and the modes of government of any foreign State I have to confess myself totally uninformed. To be sure, I have acquired some insight into the rogueries of "Rouge-et-Noir," I can slang a courier, and even curse a waiter; but I have some misgivings whether these be gifts either to promote a man's fortune or form his character. In fact, I begin to feel that engrafting Continental slang upon home "snobbery" is a very unrewarding process, and I sorely fear that I have done very little more than this. I am in a mood to make a clean breast of it, and perhaps say more than I should altogether like to remember hereafter, so will conclude for the present, and with my most sincere affection write myself, as ever, yours, Jim Dodd. P. S. It is not impossible that you may have a few lines from me by to-morrow or next day,--at least, if I have anything worth the telling and am "to the fore" to tell it. LETTER XXIX. MARY ANNE DODD TO MISS DOOLAN, OF BALLYDOOLAN Casa Dodd, Florence.