and affable in her manners. Like many of the ladies of Italy, she has no family. She is considered here a perfect model of a wife, yet B informs me,

that though often urged by him to reside in England, she obstinately refuses to leave her native country. In most of their habits, this family is completely English, and so kind and hospitable, that if any gentleman has a letter of introduction to them, a plate at the dinner table is laid down for him every day, and he is warmly received on all occasions. In dining at this house one requires to be particularly cautious, for the host is of the old school-has a superfluity of the finest and rarest wines, and continues to sit at table, if there is no opera, till supper is announced in another room, when the merriment and badinage continues incessant, till one of the small hours gives summons. In one solitary particular, however, they differ from our antiquated British manners. Early every evening, Signor Gierolomo Papanti, a handsome and accomplished Italian youth, waits on the Signora Maria, as he calls the lady of the house, and continues to chat with her in a most engaging manner till the party separates. This is what they call the usage of the country; and a lady, I am told, is considered neglected and unfashionable who has not some friend who pays court to her in this way. When the

B

theatre is open, the Signora Maria goes in her own carriage to her own box, accompanied by Signor Gierolomo Papanti, ever upon the best terms with her husband, who, good man, joins a few English friends in a rubber of whist, which they enjoy in a large box in the second row of the theatre, to the front of which they occasionally come, cards in hand, if anything is sufficiently brilliant in the opera to attract their attention. Notwithstanding this slight deviation from our old-fashioned English manners, the resident British merchants have the highest opinion of this lady's virtue, and are convinced that her friendship with Signor Gierolomo Papanti is purely platonic.

I had almost neglected to mention an occurrence which took place on our voyage from Gibraltar to Leghorn, which, though most ridiculous and absurd, so far as the skipper of our vessel was concerned, had nearly been attended with dangerous consequences. We had shipped at Gibraltar, as cabin passengers, two young men, each about six or seven and twenty, who, though strangers to each other, were both of the medical profession—both about to travel in Italy on objects connected with the healing art-both intending to reside some time at Florence, to study the anatomical preparations in wax of the celebrated and wonderful Gabinetta Fisica, the most

extensive, the most extraordinary, and the most beautiful exhibition of the kind in Europe. Both these young doctors were clever, intelligent, welleducated persons; and each had a strong predilection for argument, in which they both excelled. Being generally present at the set to, I, as being much younger, was willing to be a listener, and certainly received both instruction and amusement from their intellectual encounters. The one called Edmonstone was Scotch, from the college of Edinburgh; the other Park, was an Englishman. The former employed his time in reading; the other had a passion for painting in oil, and spent about twelve hours every day labouring at the art, though his daubs could not be looked at. As we sailed very near Minorca, the skipper proposed we should enter the splendid haven that distinguishes that island, beyond doubt the finest in the world, where Nelson often ran in contemplation of a gale of wind, and where nineteen ships of the line have lain on several occasions in ease and safety. Minorca, the second of the Balearic isles, is situated 37 miles east of Majorca. Its form is oblong, but somewhat concave on the south side. Its population is above 20,000, and its area 240 square miles. It is divided into four districts, called Termonos, the chief towns of which are, Cividadelia the capital, Port Mahon, and

Mercadal. The importance of the island is entirely owing to the valuable harbour of Port Mahon-its surface is uneven, and the climate the least propitious of the Balearic islands. The small population of Minorca is wholly Spanish, the island sterile, and, like our own dear country, chiefly covered with heath, its only distinguishing produce being the finest of honey.

The three cabin passengers being tired of ship board and salt provisions, determined to have a ramble over the island, have a Spanish dinner at the Posada, which they were informed was tolerable, and return to the ship in the evening. The skipper also proposed to land during the day, and purchase a few things for the ship. One always experiences a joyful feeling on setting foot on land after a voyage, even though it should not have been of the roughest or longest. We passed a delightful day in Minorca, finishing with a late dinner, which, though different from anything we had previously seen, the Spanish cookery was excellent in its way, while the paccharett and sherry were superior, and quite free of brandy. On our return to the vessel, however, a dark cloud seemed to lower over the skipper's countenance, and on being asked if he had been on shore and bought his stores, he gloomily replied that he had lost all his money, that it had been stolen

from his strong box. We expressed, in the kindest terms, our regret for his loss; but judge our horror, and amazement, when the low fellow attacked our friend Edmonstone, and accused him of having taken his twenty pounds. I never can forget the expression of surprise and mortification portrayed on the poor little doctor's face. Why the fellow fixed on Edmonstone, and neither on Park nor myself, we never could discover. Our friend, in epithets which no gentleman would for a moment have tolerated, abused and cursed the skipper, and no doubt would have suited the action to the word, but that the man was twice his size, and a sailor. He, however, challenged him to land immediately on the island, and afford him satisfaction for the foul insult given. As the other looked a bold big fellow, and sailors are seldom deficient in courage, we fully expected to have had a duel-but we were mistaken. The skipper, notwithstanding his size and profession, showed the white feather, and when Park, in character of second to the little doctor, insisted upon a decided reply, the skipper said he had a wife and four children, and was not going to risk his life in such a quarrel. As a dernier resort, Park then insisted upon a written apology, which was given in the humblest terms, and the ship weighed anchor and bore on her passage. Next morning, during