i, it is said, owns four, and so on. Cheap as they are,
they are a poorer speculation than even corner lots in a lithographic
city of Nebraska or Oregon.

That evening in the gondola, with one old and two newer friends, is
marked with a white stone in my recollection. To bones aching with rough
riding in Diligences by night as well as day, the soft cushions and
gliding motion of the boat were soothing and grateful as "spicy gales
from Araby the blest." The breeze from the Adriatic was strong and
refreshing after the fervid but not excessive heat of the day, and the
clear, mild moon seemed to invest the mossy and crumbling palaces with a
softened radiance and spiritual beauty. Boats were passing on every
side, some with gay parties of three to six, others with but two
passengers, who did not seem to need the presence of more, nor indeed to
be conscious that any others existed. The hum of earnest or glad voices
here contrasted strongly with silence and meditation there. Venice is a
City of the Past, and wears her faded yet queenly robes more gracefully
by night than by day.

Yes, the Venice of to-day is only a reminiscence of glories that were,
but shall be never again. Wealth, Luxury, Aristocracy ate out her soul;
then Bonaparte, perfidious despot that he ever was, robbed her of her
independence; finally the Holy Alliance of conquerors of Bonaparte made
his wrong the pretext for another, and wholly gave her to her ancient
enemy Austria, who greedily snatched at the prey, though it was her
assistance rendered or proffered to Austria in 1798-9 which gave
Napoleon his pretext for crushing her. Her recent struggle for
independence, though fruitless, was respectable, and protracted beyond
the verge of Hope; and not even Royalist mendacity has yet pretended
that _her_ revolt from Austria, or her prolonged defence under
bombardment and severe privation was the work of foreigners. But the
Croat again lords it in her halls; Trieste is stealing away her remnant
of trade; and the Railroads which should regain or replace it are
postponed from year to year, and may never be completed, or at least not
until it is utterly too late. Weeds gather around the marble steps of
her palaces; her towers are all swerving from their original
uprightness, and there is neither energy nor means to arrest their fall.
Nobody builds a new edifice within her precincts, and the old ones,
though of the most enduring materials and construction, cannot ete