To all the luxuriant vegetation and cultivated beauty of Massa, glowing in the “golden glories” of its orange-groves,--steeped in the perfume of its thousand gardens,--Carrara offers the very strongest contrast. Built in a little cleft of the Apennines, it is begirt with great mountains,--wild, barren, and desolate. Some, dark and precipitous, have no traces in their sides but those of the torrents which are formed by the melting snows; others show the white caves, as they are called, of that pure marble which has made the name of the spot famous throughout Europe. High in the mountain sides, escarped amidst rocks, and zig-zagging over many a dangerous gorge and deep abyss, are the rough roads trodden by the weary oxen,--trailing along their massive loads and straining their stout chests to drag the great white blocks of glittering stone. Far down below, crossed and recrossed by splashing torrents, sprinkled with the spray of a hundred cataracts, stands Carrara itself,--a little marble city of art, every house a studio, every citizen a sculptor. Hither are sent all the marvellous conceptions of genius,--the models which mighty imaginations have begotten,--to be converted into imperishable stone. Here are the grand conceptions gathered for every land and clime, treasures destined to adorn the great galleries of nations, or the splendid palaces of kings. Some of these studios are of imposing size and vast proportions, and not devoid of a certain architectural pretension,--a group, a figure, or a bas-relief usually adorning the space over the door, and by its subject giving some indication of the tastes of the proprietor. Thus, Madonnas and saints are of frequent occurrence; and the majority of the artists display their faith by an image of the saint whose patronage they claim. Others exhibit some ideal conception; and a few denote their nationality by the bust of their sovereign, or some prince of his house.