LETTER NO. XXIII. HOTEL DE L'EUROPE, VENICE, ITALY, EDITORS ADVOCATE "I stood in Venice on the bridge of sighs, On yesterday morning, at sunrise, I arrived in this city of palaces, "that spring from the sea.' The first human being I saw was an Austrian soldier. There are now in Venitia 260,000 Austrian soldiers, and all seem ready to have another fight for the honor of the House of Hapsburg. The Venetians are very much dissatisfied with the treaty of Villa Franca, and are daily giving Austria much trouble. Last night as I was walking along the Piazza di San Marco, I heard the report of two guns. I went in the direction whence the crowd was rushing, and found two Italians lying dead, weltering in their own blood. They had attempted to take the muskets from the Austrian soldiers, while they were on guard. It is generally believed that before spring the Austrian soldiers will enter Milan. All classes here are down on Napoleon for not freeing them from Austrian tyranny. It seems to be a national idea. Even the Lazzaroni, who live by begging, and stealing, are long and loud in their curses of Napoleon. Venice is a city sui generis. It has a population of 100,000 inhabitants. This is the only city in the world, I believe, in which there are no carriages or horses, cattle or asses. (Fortunate city that, in which there are no asses!) The city is divided by a grand canal, into which a thousand small canals lead, and is built on 72 islands. All the travel is done by gondolas. These are long, narrow boats, invariably painted black. They have movable covers, and generally carry four persons. As these dark-looking boats skim along the silent canals, they remind you more of hearses than any thing else. The gondolier is a hardy, dark-looking man, and handles his oar with great ease and dexterity. To while away the time, he generally sings some Italian sonnet, and thus makes your voyage very agreeable. Venice is rich in churches and private palaces. There are 30 cathedrals here, all possessing great interest to the traveller. But the pride of Venice is San Marco. This is the most remarkable building in the world, for precious stones and rare marbles. The interior is literally one entire mosaic. There are no paintings in oil. The altar-piece is of solid gold, and thickly set with precious stones. The front doors of the cathedral are of bronze, and were brought from Constantinople. On entering this church you are completely bewildered, in looking at the great profusion of porphyry, verde antique, alabaster, lapis lazuli, and every other kind and color of precious stones and marbles, from all parts of the world. When I first heard that beautiful song, "I dreamed that I dwelt in marble halls," I never expected to have it in my power to realize the poet's idea. San Marco is now the noblest specimen the world has ever produced of "marble halls," for it is so rich and splendid, that upon beholding it, you would almost swear that Aladdin, with his powerful lamp, had been there. The square fronting the cathedral is called the Piazza di San Marco, and here are collected the fashion and élite of the city in the evening, to listen to the imperial band, to promenade, make love and drink coffee. I must confess that I do not think the Venetian ladies so "killing pretty." From Lord Byron, down to the lesser poets, all have gone quite crazy about the dark flowing tresses, large languishing eyes, and sylph-like forms of the Venetian ladies. I saw none of these angelic beings; those I saw were any thing but beautiful. They all look sad, sorrowful, and sulky; half-starved, yellow-skinned, and bony. I saw them by day and also by night, when they looked no better. The gondoliers and beggars make up about one half of the population of Venice. Wherever you go, on the street, in the palace, in the church, at the hotel, the eternal beggars are sure to find you. There are many very fine private palaces here, all of which are thrown open to the public, and for a small sum to the porter, you can go through their elegant chambers and fine galleries of paintings. In one of them to-day I saw the chef d'œuvre of the great Conova, his Ajax and Hector. These palaces are filled with an immense number of fine paintings by the old masters, and some of the very best statuary in Italy. The rooms are cased with variegated marble, the floors with mosaics, and the ceilings covered with frescoes, making them the most elegant and luxurious chambers I ever saw. The Palazzo Grimian belongs to the Duchess de Berri, who spends her winters here, and gives most magnificent parties. Another palace belongs to the celebrated danseuse Taglioni, who also spends her winters here, and entertains handsomely. All of these palaces are splendid inside, and kept in very neat and elegant order, but show a dilapidated exterior. The marble has been eaten away by the "hungry tooth of time;" the walls are blackened and always damp, while seaweeds and barnacles cling to the very sills of the doors. The residences of Mrs. Adams and of Messrs. Andrews and Randolph of Iberville, are far more showy and much more comfortable than any private palace in Vienna. The Rialto is a marble bridge across the Canalazzo, or grand canal, and has a span of 100 feet. It is very solid and compact, being entirely built of pure marble. This is the place where Shylock and Antonio met once upon a time, and here the merchants of Venice did "mostly congregate." But, alas! what a falling off is there. This bridge now, instead of being the popular resort for the wealthy merchants, is occupied by stalls for the sale of miserable cheap jewelry and children's toys. The principal trade, however, on the Rialto, seems to be in onions and mushrooms. Here in the very centre of the bridge, are stacks of onions; onions in baskets, onions on strings, onions in every conceivable shape and manThe Venetian ladies are said to be very fond of this esculent, and labor under the happy belief that the aroma of the onion is a most delicious and delicate perfume. ner. The Palazzo Ducale is one of the most remarkable palaces in Venice. It adjoins the San Marco, and was for many years the residence of the doges. It is filled with many fine paintings, many of them of gigantic size. Underneath this palace are the state-prisons. From the Ducal Palace is a narrow way that leads to the "Bridge of Sighs," or as the Italians call it, Ponte di Sospiri. It is a high, covered, narrow stone bridge, that leads from the Hall of Justice to the prisons. The state prisoners were sent by a secret passage to the hall of justice. If condemned, they were sent across this fatal bridge to the dark, deep dungeons, "whence no unfortu |