and women, make it a most
delightful picture. Genoa appears to be a city of palaces, and
although many of the largest are now converted to humbler uses,
and many fallen to decay, there are ample remains to show the
former grandeur of the princely merchants who were once the lords
of the ocean. Everything bespeaks solidity, durability, and
magnificence. There are stupendous works which were done at the
expense of individuals. In every part of the town are paintings
and frescoes, which, in spite of constant exposure to the
atmosphere, have retained much of their brilliancy and freshness.
The palaces of Doria are the most interesting; but why the Senate
gave him that which bears still the inscription denoting its
being their gift it is difficult to say, when his own is so
superior and in a more agreeable situation. The old palace of
Andrew is now let for lodgings, and the Pamfili Doria live at
Rome. The walls are covered with inscriptions, and I stopped to
read two on stone slabs on the spot where the houses of
malefactors had formerly stood, monuments of the vindictive laws
of the Republic, which not only punished the criminal himself,
but consigned his children to infamy and his habitation to
destruction; though they stand together they are not of the same
date. There is no temptation to violate the decree by building
again on the spot, for they are in a narrow, dirty court, to
which light can scarcely find access. The Ducal Palace now
belongs to the Governor. It has been modernised, but in the dark
alleys adjoining there are remains demonstrative of its former
extent--pictures of the different Doges in fresco on the walls
half erased, and little bridges extending from the windows (or
doors) of the palace to the public prisons and other adjoining
buildings. The view from my _albergo_ (_della villa_) is the
gayest imaginable, looking over the harbour, which is crowded
with sailors and boats full of animation.

[Page Head: PALACES AND CHURCHES OF GENOA]

_Evening._--Passed the whole day seeing sights. Called on Madame
Durazzo, and went with her and her niece, Madame Ferrari, to the
King's palace, formerly a Durazzo palace. Like the others, a fine
house, full of painting and gilding, and with a terrace of black
and white marble commanding a view of the sea. The finest picture
is a Paul Veronese of a Magdalen with our Saviour. The King and
Queen sleep together, and on each side of the royal bed there is
an assortment of