Charles X., Louis XIX. and Henry V., descendants of "Enrico di Borbone," are therefore nobles of the Republic of Venice, which no longer exists, even as they are Kings of France in Bohemia, even as they are canons of St. John Lateran in Rome, and always by right of Henry IV.; I have represented them in this last quality: they have lost their president's cap and their amice, and I have lost my embassy. And yet I was so well off in my stall in St. John Lateran! What a beautiful church! What a beautiful sky! What admirable music! Those songs have lasted longer than my grandeurs and those of my Canon-King. My glory annoyed me greatly at the Arsenal; it shines on my forehead unknown to myself: Field-marshal Pallucci, Admiral and Commandant-General of the Navy, recognised me by my horns of fire. He hastened up to me, himself showed me several curiosities and then, excusing himself for his inability to accompany me any longer, because of a council over which he had to preside, he placed me in the hands of a superior officer. We met the captain of the frigate which was on the point of sailing. He accosted me without ceremony and said to me, with that sailor's frankness which I like so much: "Monsieur le vicomte"--as though he had known me all his life--"have you any message for America?" "No, captain: be sure to give her my compliments; it is long since I saw her!" I cannot see a vessel without dying of longing to go with her: if I were free, the first ship sailing for the Indies would have a chance of carrying me away. How I regretted not to have been able to accompany Captain Parry[114] to the Arctic regions! My life is at its ease only in the midst of the clouds and the seas: I always cherish the hope that it will disappear under a sail. The weighty years which we heave into the waves of time are not anchors: they do not delay our course. [Sidenote: The Isola di San Cristoforo.] VENICE, _September_ 1833. In the Arsenal, I was not far from the Isola di San Cristoforo, which serves to-day as a cemetery. This island used to contain a convent of Capuchins; the convent has been pulled down and its site is nothing more than a square enclosure. The tombs are not very many in number, or at least they are not raised above the level and grassy ground. Against the west wall are fixed five or six stone monuments; little black wooden crosses, with a white date, are scattered about the enclosure: that is how they now bury the Venetians whose forefathers rest in the mausoleums of the Frari and Santi Giovanni e Paolo. Society, as it grows larger, has humbled itself: democracy has overtaken death.