its architecture or decorations. It is fronted by a gate of open iron-work, surmounted by a cardinal's hat-indicating that the structure was raised or renovated by some church dignitary, a class who appear invariably scrupulous to memorialize, by inscriptions and emblems, whatever public work they see fit to promote. A stranger might pass this little edifice unheeded, standing as it does at a lonely corner, and wearing an aspect of neglect ; but as the eye glances through the railing of the portal, it instinctively rests on a small and time-stained bas-relief, in the opposite wall, representing that sad, stern, and emaciated countenance, which, in the form of busts, engravings, frescos, and portraits, haunts the traveller in every part of Italy. It is a face so strongly marked with the sorrow of a noble and ideal mind, that there is no need of the laurel wreath upon the head, to assure us that we look upon the lineaments of a poet. And who could fail to stay his feet, and still the current of his wandering thoughts to a deeper flow, when he reads upon the entablature of the little temple, Sepulchrum Dantis Poetæ ?' It is not necessary that one should have solved the mysteries of the Divina Commedia, in order to feel the solemn interest which attaches to the spot where the bones of its author repose. It is enough to know that we are standing by the tomb of a man who, in early boyhood, loved; and cherished the deep affection then born, after its object was removed from the world, through a life of the greatest vicissitude, danger, and grief, making it a fountain of poetic inspiration, and a golden link which bound him to the world of spirits; a quenchless sentiment,

6

whose intensity vivified and hallowed existence. It is sufficient to remember, that we are near the ashes of a man who proved himself a patriot, and when made the victim of political faction, and banished from his home, wrapped himself in the mantle of silent endurance, and suffered with a dignified heroism, that challenges universal sympathy and respect. It is sufficient to reflect that the people who had persecuted the gifted Florentine when living, have long vainly petitioned those among whom he died, for the privilege of transporting his revered remains to the rich monument prepared for them; and that a permanent professorship, to elucidate his immortal poem, is founded by the very city from which he was ignobly spurned. It is enough that we see before us the sepulchre of a man who had the intellect and courage to think beyond and above his age, who revived into pristine beauty a splendid but desecrated language; who fully vindicated his title to the character of a statesman, a soldier, and a poet; and in a warlike and violent age, had the magnanimity to conceive, and the genius to create, an imperishable monument of intellectual revenge.

THE CHOLERA IN SICILY

"The blessed seals

Which close the pestilence are broke,

And crowded cities wail its stroke."

Halleck.

IN the modern history of pestilence, there are few records which can parallel, for scenes of horror and ceaseless havoc, the course of the cholera in Sicily during the summer of 1837. For many months previous to the outbreak of the disease, the commerce of the country had been essentially diminished, by a series of rigid and absurd quarantines; and so obstinate are the people in their belief that the complaint is contagious, that they still persist in ascribing its appearance in their capital to the introduction of contraband goods from Naples, where it was then raging. Notwithstanding these precautionary measures, no preparation was made in case they should prove unavailing, so that when the dreaded enemy arrived, the ignorance and poverty of the lower orders, and the utter absence of remedial arrangements

on the part of the government, gave free scope to its awful energies. A still more shameful cause of the fatal triumph which it subsequently achieved, is to be found in the pusillanimous conduct of the physicians and agents of police, many of whom fled at the first announcement of danger. For weeks the multitudinous precincts of the city presented naught but the trophies of disease and death. In many instances the bodies were thrown into the streets; and not unfrequently from the carts which removed them, might be heard the groans of some poor wretch prematurely numbered among the dead. As a last resort, the galley slaves were offered their liberty upon condition of burying the victims; but few survived to enjoy the dearly purchased boon. The strength of the poor nuns finally became inadequate to transporting the rapidly increasing bodies to the gates of the convents, and these asylums were necessarily broken open by the becci. These wretches nightly made the circuit of the deserted streets, by the light of numerous fires of pitch, kept burning at long intervals, with a view of purifying the air. They sat upon the heap of livid corses piled up in their carts, stopping at each house where a light glimmering in the balcony indicated that their services were required. Entering without cere. mony, they hastily stripped the body, and placing it on the cart, resumed their progress, generally singing as they went, under the influence of intoxication or unnatural excitement. Arrived at the Campo Santo, their burdens were quickly deposited in huge pits, and the same course repeated until sunrise. It is remarkable, that

of one hundred and fifty-six of those regularly employed in this way, but three fell victims to the cholera.

The

The

The low situation of Palermo, surrounded as it is by high mountains, and built nearly on a level with the sea doubtless augmented the virulence of the disease. During several days in July, a strong sirocco wind prevailed; and no one who has not experienced the suffocating and dry heat of this formidable atmosphere, can realize the complete lassitude it brings, both upon mind and body. Engendered amid the burning sands of Africa, even its flight across the sea chastens not the intensity of its heat. It broods over the fertile valley in which the Sicilian capital stands, with the still and scorching intensity of noon-day in the desert. The laborers crouch beneath the shadow of the walls in weary listlessness. nobility take refuge on the couch or in the bath. paper on the escritoir curls in its breath like the sensitive plant at the human touch; and vases of water are constantly filled beneath the piano-forte, that the thin case of the instrument may not crack asunder. The fresh verdure of the fields withers before it, and the solitary streets, at the meridian hour, proclaim its fearful presence. The occurrence of a sirocco soon after the advent of the cholera, greatly augmented its ravages. Literally might it be said, that the pestilence came on the wings of the wind; and, unlike its course in other countries, it primarily attacked foreigners and the higher class of natives. But a few days prior to its appearance, I left Palermo for the other side of the island. The spring had been unusually fine. Daily excursions, at that luxurious