when she says that this acting-the bustle and blandishment of a court, retarded her personal piety; although it was certainly in the ducal palace she acquired that knowledge of the Gospel which supported her mind under future privations and hardships.

The zealous support which Renée gave to the Protestants caused repeated representations from the Pope to her husband. He was assured that the house of Este was in danger of contracting the horrible sin of heresy. If his wife refused to forbear, he was commanded to seclude her from society and her family. She would not violate her conscience, and was made prisoner in her own palace. At length worn out, and longing to see her children, she made some concessions. After the death of her husband, she returned to France, and took up her residence in the castle of Montargis, where she made open profession of the reformed religion. The duke of Guise, her son-in-law, having one day come to the castle with an armed force, sent a message to inform her, that if she did not dismiss the Protestant rebels she harboured, he would batter the walls with his cannon! She boldly replied, "Tell your master that I will myself mount the battlements, and see if he dare kill a king's daughter." It is delightful to meet with Protestant firmness in the family of Este.

The duchy of Modena has a curious soil: beneath its beautiful vines and its abundant corn, amber is found in earth impregnated with petroleum. Ten miles south of the city is an aperture called La Salza, whence, in spring and autumn, ascend, with a loud noise, smoke, flame, ashes, stones, and a sulphureous smell.

In the south of the duchy is famous marble. The city of Modena is tolerably fortified. It has a cathedral, and many convents; and Carlo Borromeo founded

CHAPTER III.

The Apennines—Foco del Legno-Pietra Mala-Monte Carelli— Florence-Fiésole-The Venus.

As we quitted Bologna, we observed, on a lofty hill leading to a convent, a curious gallery open to the south, and closed by a wall on the north, which is built all the way from the city to this asylum of the Dominican monks. On the open side it is supported by pillars, and was erected for the convenience of pilgrims going to pay their devotions before a picture of the Virgin, said to be painted by St. Luke! brought from Constantinople. You must not imagine that this picture remains stationary-no, la bonne Vierge va quelquefois à la ville. Once a year, the whole population comes out to escort her to the town from her sequestered station in the convent; the bells ring, the cannons fire, every inhabitant bears a taper! Do they not need to be taught again what are the very elements of Christianity? As we looked down upon this convent, we were gradually climbing the Apennines; the day was wintry; wind and rain and fog surrounded us, and now and then a parting cloud discovered that we were on the terraceroad of the mountain, where occasionally nothing was to be seen but sand, then scanty cultivation, then rocks of volcanic hue starting up above miserable villages. Then, again, a bright sunbeam displayed a valley rich in vegetation, and refreshing from the emerald green of its meadows; but the

sini: the line is formed of red and white marble, a hand's breadth; the signs of the zodiac wider; the line is half the length of the church, which is three hundred and sixty feet, the six hundred thousandth part of the circumference of the globe. A small round aperture has been made in the roof of the church, through which the rays of the sun form a circular luminous spot, about eight inches in diameter, on the pavement, which shows the proper meridional altitude on the line each day. Owing to the torrents of rain, and the lateness of the hour, we were obliged to leave unseen the paintings, palaces, university, anatomical theatre, and other interesting objects of Bologna,

CHAPTER III.

The Apennines-Foco del Legno-Pietra Mala—Monte Carelli— Florence-Fiésole-The Venus.

On

As we quitted Bologna, we observed, on a lofty hill leading to a convent, a curious gallery open to the south, and closed by a wall on the north, which is built all the way from the city to this asylum of the Dominican monks. the open side it is supported by pillars, and was erected for the convenience of pilgrims going to pay their devotions before a picture of the Virgin, said to be painted by St. Luke! brought from Constantinople. You must not imagine that this picture remains stationary-no, la bonne Vierge va quelquefois à la ville. Once a year, the whole population comes out to escort her to the town from her sequestered station in the convent; the bells ring, the cannons fire, every inhabitant bears a taper! Do they not need to be taught again what are the very elements of Christianity? As we looked down upon this convent, we were gradually climbing the Apennines; the day was wintry; wind and rain and fog surrounded us, and now and then a parting cloud discovered that we were on the terraceroad of the mountain, where occasionally nothing was to be seen but sand, then scanty cultivation, then rocks of volcanic hue starting up above miserable villages. Then, again, a bright sunbeam displayed a valley rich in vegetation, and refreshing from the emerald green of its meadows; but the

state of the atmosphere entirely deprived us of a view of Milan and Verona, the plains of Padua, the Po, the Adriatic, and the distant Alps.

Always ascending, we passed the hamlets of Lofano and Filigaro to Covigliajo. Upon the Giogo, one of the highest mountains of the Apennines, between Monte Carelli and Covigliajo, we observed immense masses of insulated earth; and between Pietra Mala and Scarica l'Asino, we saw a vast mass of stones, as though they had been ejected from a volcano, even in the midst of this region of limestone. Five o'clock found us at an inn fit for banditti, at Pietra Mala; I was the only one of our party who had strength to brave a storm. I went with an old Italian shepherd to see a curious phenomenon which the people here call Foco del Legno. On a steep mountain, Monte di Fo, amidst stones and rocks, over a space about fifteen feet in diameter, are a dozen or two of flames constantly ascending about a foot high; the shepherd told me that, in snowy weather, they rise to three feet. On stirring the stones with a stick, fresh flames arise: a strong smell of nitre is emitted, as likewise from the stones when breathed on. The heat is very great, but confined to the spot. Wheat was cultivated within ten yards of the flames, and I gathered very near them a beautiful delphinum. It was a curious sight, one I would not willingly have missed; the spot never ceases to emit flames, night nor day. When my curiosity was satisfied, I looked round, and found myself a stranger on the wild Apennines; darkness and gloom hung upon their tops; our way back was through stony defiles and muddy lanes; but wading through mountain-torrents, and scrambling over stones, I at length joined my compagnes de voyage, whom I found little satisfied with