as much gravity and deference as if the blood of a thousand kings flowed in our veins. Oh! money, thou leveller of kings: nay, thyself a king; every inch a king!" "Well, J, said my friend, "how would you like it here, any how ?" "Like it!” said I, “why, I should be frightened to death to stay here over night. I would no more sleep here, than I would sleep in a goblin castle. I should expect to sink through six or seven floors before morning, and finally wake up a mile or two under ground."

The grounds of the palace, however, were magnificent, and the fountains, and orange groves in them, and quiet lakes, with their fairy islands and shady walks, were becoming a prince's retreat. You could walk miles under the shade of trees, amid fountains and statuary, without retracing the steps.

To-night we have had a council over the different places of residence. They were all finally reduced to two, and the veto power lay of course in Mrs. L- -'s hands. L-stoutly declared that my vote was worth nothing, as it would be thrown of course for the palace in which the two beautiful Spaniards were. Mrs. L- however, decided on that herself, and so, as we say at home, the thing "is fixed," and we move our traps next week. Yours, &c.

LETTER VI.

Funeral in the Morning-Murder of an American Officer.

DEAR E.-We have been three weeks in our home, and a charming one it is for this country. The grounds are terraced up behind it, to the top of a hill, where there is a semicircular area fringed with a hedge of box-wood, and filled with seats, designed for pic-nic parties. The view from this spot is like the vision of a dream-land. All the sea-shore is below you, dotted with white villages, and the bay stretches off into the open sea, while the snow-capped Alps are folding their summits together on the far distant heavens. Grape-covered walks interlace the grounds in every direction, and the yellow orange and lemon hang in profusion before our windows. The building has nearly thirty rooms in it, all furnished, and some of them very richly, and the rent is a trifle over $360 per annum; so break up your establishment in Broadway instanter-half its expense will enable you to live here like a prince.

rooms.

It takes some time to accustom one's self to these immense There are but three of us, and three servants, in all, and it seems impossible to expand ourselves to the size of the building. Mr. L., wife, and nurse, occupy rooms on one side of the house, while I am all alone on the other side. The slamming of the great doors, ringing through these immense halls as I go to bed, makes me nervous. I do not like things on so large a scale. Our dining-table is so immense, that we almost need a trumpet to hail each other across it. One of your snug American houses, made on purpose for comfort, is worth a dozen of them.

The palace of the Marquis of Palavicini stands on a hill opposite us, the bells of whose chapel seem to take a peculiar pleasure in ringing after midnight. If the good Marquis expects to keep

MURDER OF AN AMERICAN OFFICER.

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the saint for whose benefit they are rung, quiet in his grave, by these nocturnal rope-pullings, he must have a singular idea of the way dead folks sleep; yet I can almost forgive the disturbance, for the chimes will sometimes be so sweet and musical, that they mingle in my dreams, and sink away into my spirit like the memory of young joys.

This morning I was awakened by that mysterious solemn chant heard nowhere but in Catholic countries; rousing me out of my sleep while my room was yet dark, it had an indescribable effect upon my feelings. I jumped out of bed, and throwing open the shutters, beheld a funeral train winding along through one corner of our garden—their long wax tapers burning dimly in the grey twilight of morning. One of the peasantry had died, and the friends were bearing the corpse, wrapped in white, to a neighboring church. Females, robed in white, with long white muslin shawls folded across the top of the head, and falling down over their shoulders, accompanied the bier. The whole procession moved with a rapid step, while that strangely wild chant rose and fell in regular cadences on the air. It finally emerged from the vine-covered walks, and passing rapidly a bridge that spanned a rivulet at the bottom of the garden, disappeared on the other side. I turned to my bed again, but not to sleep. The ghostly chant awaking me out of my slumbers, had struck a superstitious chord in my heart, and that funeral train seemed to me like a visit and a warning from the spirit land, and left a sadness on me that I could not shake off.

I left this letter unfinished to go to dinner, and while we were at table a carriage drove up, and a clerk of the Consular office was announced, bringing a note from the Vice-Consul, stating that our Mediterranean fleet had just arrived from Mahon. This was stirring news, and we were soon en route for Genoa. It was too late for the Consul to board the fleet officially, and so we met Commodore Morgan and his lady on the wharf. The fleet has left Mahon on account of the assassination of one of our midshipThe disbanded soldiers of the Spanish army are turned loose on the island, and become perfect cut-throats. The feeling among the officers against the government, on account of its perfect indifference to the murder, threatened serious disturbances,

men.

and the Commodore wisely resolved to leave. The midshipman who was killed, seemed to have one of those mysterious warnings, which sometimes paralyze the heart of the stoutest warrior just before an engagement. Owing to the lawless character of the inhabitants, the officers invariably wore side arms when they went ashore. Young Morrison, the afternoon he went ashore, appeared unusually sad, and just as he was about leaving the ship, the officer, who related to me the circumstances, told him he had better take his pistols with him. He shook his head, and said seriously he did not need them. "But, surely," said his friend,." you are not going to leave your sword behind." He replied yes, and stepped into the boat. In the evening he was at a Café with several of the officers, and when they left, lingered behind a moment. The officers had not proceeded far, when (said my friend), “I heard a shriek behind me. The next moment young M. rushed by, exclaiming, I am killed,' and fell dead." His friends rushed back to seize the assassin, but found only a large Spanish knife on the ground, covered with blood. The murderer had fled. He had evidently watched young M. coming out of the Café unarmed, and stepping up behind in the dark, pinioned him tight with one arm, while, with the other, he rapidly gave him three stabs in the heart. The next day it was discovered that M. had taken out his Bible before he went ashore, and read it, and inserted between the leaves a short will, or parting request to his friends, showing that he anticipated his death. So powerful and mysterious was this impression, that he took pains to leave all his weapons behind him. He seemed to regard his death as fixed among the unalterable decrees. He had had no quarrel, and probably the only reason the assassin attacked him was, that he found him alone and unarmed.

Some would find in this an evidence of the truth of omens and warnings, but if we could look through the causes that led to the impressions in this case, we might find it based on a superstitious notion received in infancy, or an incident slight as the tick of the death-watch. It was of no consequence whether the cause of the impression was reasonable, or not-it led him to that carelesness and neglect, which would probably have secured the death of any officer.

20th.-To-day I have been back in the mountains among the poorer peasantry. Houses are scattered all through the hills, with nothing but paths leading to them from the sea. Pigs and chickens have free access, and they are often the only inmates you see on the threshold. The situation of these hovels is highly picturesque. From the top of a ridge I would look down into a deep valley, and there, beside a brawling stream, all buried up in the vines, would nestle something that ought to have been a cottage, but which, alas, was a hovel. It is astonishing to see how the hill-sides in some places are cultivated. Patches, that look scarcely larger than the palm of your hand, spot the mountains in every direction.

Chestnuts are quite a staple article for food. They are about three times as large as our chestnuts, and are eaten in almost every form, but usually roasted. They are also pounded up, and cooked into a sort of pudding.

In general, the peasantry are more chaste than the other classes of Italians. The seducer may roam among the nobility, and unless he treads on the toes of some peppery rival, acquires credit, rather than disgrace, by his conquests. But let him go among the peasantry, and his body will soon be found in the highway, with the marks of the knife on him. Among the poor, there are no matches of convenience, made by the parents, and in which virtue and love are entirely useless commodities. The peasant girl has nothing but her character to recommend her, and when that is gone, her hopes of marriage are gone. I must say, however, that selfishness seems to have as much to do with their chastity, as virtuous principles, and perhaps more; for after marriage, the same sensitiveness is not exhibited, and peccadilloes, and love affairs, are the source of endless quarrels, and often murders.

21st.-Last night was a terrific night. An awful storm swept the sea and the shores. I stood by the window at midnight and gazed off on the waves that almost washed the foot of the garden. Every few moments the angry swell would fall in thunder on the beach, sending its foam to the roofs of the buildings that lined the shore. Perfect blackness would be resting on everything, when a sudden flash of lightning would light up the whole riviera and