influence of the dark woods that cover the Apennines, all the dim and shadowy loveliness, all the mystery and suggestiveness of the romantic forest about the ruined abbey, reappear in her descriptions. Her feeling toward mountains is one of almost extravagant delight in their vastness, their wildness, their remoteness, and inaccessibility. She is deeply sensitive to all the “goings on” in the sky. She catches with accuracy the most ethereal, delicate, evanescent effects. It is especially mystery and remoteness that she loves, hence night, moonlight, and stars attract her. Closely connected with her pleasure in the sky is her artistic openness to all aërial transformations. In her wide views over land and sea, in vistas caught through forest glades, in pictures of twilight or dawn, of sunrise or sunset, she seldom fails to note the quick shiftings of color and form, the interplay of light and shade, the dimness, the transparency, the luminosity, resulting from atmospheric changes. She looked upon Nature not only, as she said of one of her own characters, “with the eye of an artist, but with the raptures of a poet.” The effect of Nature on man in soothing his grief, modifying his passions, and elevating his character is everywhere insisted upon. As Adeline’s eyes “wandered through the romantic glades that opened into the forest her heart was gladdened.” Through the melancholy boughs the evening twilight, which still colored the air, “diffused a solemnity that vibrated in thrilling sensations upon the hearts of the travellers.... The tranquillity of the scene, which autumn had touched with her sweetest tints, softened her mind to a tender kind of melancholy.”