"We then ascended the Campanile or Belfry Tower to see the view from its summit. Florence lay at our feet, diminished to a model of itself, with its walls and gates, its streets and bridges, palaces and churches, all and each distinctly visible; and beyond, the Val d'Arno with its amphitheatre of hills, villas, and its vineyards--classical Fiesole, with its ruined castle, and Monte Ulivetto, with its diadem of cypresses; luxuriant nature and graceful art, blending into one glorious picture, which no smoky vapors, no damp exhalations, blotted and discolored; but all was serenely bright and fair, gay with moving life, and rich with redundant fertility." But it was in Rome, "the city of the soul," that the spirit of the authoress revelled amidst the magnificent trophies of art, and was refreshed in spite of pain and despondency, by the reviving beauties of nature. "The weather is cold here during the prevalence of the tramontana: but I enjoy the brilliant skies, and the delicious purity of the air, which leaves the eye free to wander over a vast extent of space. Looking from the gallery of the Belvedere at sun-set this evening, I clearly saw Tivoli, Albano, and Frascati, although all Rome, and part of the Campagna lay between me and those towns. The outlines of every building, ruin, hill and wood, were so distinctly marked, and _stood out_ so brightly to the eye! and the full round moon, magnified through the purple vapor which floated over the Appenines, rose just over Tivoli, adding to the beauty of the scene. O Italy! How I wish I could transport hither all I love! how I wish I were well enough, happy enough to enjoy all the lovely things I see! but pain is mingled with all I behold, all I feel: a cloud seems for ever before my eyes, a weight for ever presses down my heart. I know it is wrong to repine; and that I ought rather to be thankful for the pleasurable sensations yet spared to me, than lament that they are so few. When I take up my pen to record the impressions of the day, I sometimes turn within myself, and wonder how it is possible, that amid the strife of feelings not all subdued, and the desponding of the heart, the mind should still retain its faculties unobscured, and the imagination all its vivacity, and its susceptibility to pleasure,--like the beautiful sun-bow I saw at the falls of Terni, bending so bright and so calm over the verge of the abyss, which toiled and raged below." Having visited and examined in detail, with the feelings of an amateur, almost every thing worthy of note {21} in the ancient city--the sublime architecture of St. Peter's--the treasures of the Vatican and the Capitol--the numberless galleries of painting and sculpture--and having loitered with the spirit of an antiquary amidst the ruins of tombs and temples, our fair tourist describes the rapid _survey_ which she made with a view to generalize the whole.