Mr. Tilton, the American painter, showed us a Venetian scene yesterday of supreme loveliness, as most of his water scenes are. I never saw so much delicious coloring as is always in his pictures of the Adriatic. He sells mostly to the English, and at great prices. He showed me his selling book, and I was astounded at what he got. It was pounds, where others of our artist friends got dollars. Went to Elihu Vedder’s studio. He received me very coolly at first, because he thought I mispronounced his name; a very important matter. Afterward, he took some pains to show me his work. It is certainly characteristic, at least, and original, and nobody ever misses guessing whose picture it is, if it should be from his brush. _March 25._--Mr. Pierpont, the Secretary of Legation, is down with the Roman fever. Strong and young and handsome as he was, constant late hours and cold stone floors were too much for him. He may never recover. His coming here was almost a sensation, and no one ever got into “good society” in Rome so promptly. His handsome face, genial ways, good family and fine talents have made him welcome everywhere. He is a son of Attorney General Edwards Pierpont, of New York, once Minister to England. They have taken him to the German hospital up by the Capitol. What makes his illness worse just now is that Mr. Astor, the Minister, has sent in his resignation and will go home at once. _April, 1884._--Went to the Island of Capri, only a couple of hours’ sail from the most beautiful bay in the world. This is the spot where the Garden of Eden ought to have been. Went to the Blue Grotto--wonderful! While floating about there in a little boat, I thought of T. Buchanan Read’s lines: Oh, happy ship to rise and dip With the blue crystal at your lip Just mere common existence ought to be a delight on Capri. The combination of romantic scene, delicious air, blue sky, and almost bluer sea, make it adorable. One should need little to live on here, and I think the peasants indeed have little aside from fruits and olive oil and wine. The young women are strikingly beautiful. Tiberius, when he built his palace up on top of this wonderful Isle of the Sea, at least knew where to find the beautiful. Ischia, even more beautiful, if possible, is close by, and we look over and think of the terrible fate of its people only a few months ago. In front of us is Naples, and, in sight, Vesuvius sullenly smokes away as if to remind us of the eternal peril to all who stay among these loveliest scenes of earth. [Illustration: Naples.--_Page 266._] We visited Pompeii, with its lifted mantle of ashes and cinder, that have helped mankind to patch out history. I was impressed by the extreme smallness of the Pompeiian houses. They look like little stone kitchens. Everything in the excavated city seems in miniature. One could think of a toy town built of stone, but supplied with everything wonderful of art and luxury.