his "golden path of rays" faded from the waters, the
sea assumed the hue of ink; the breeze sprung up, and our little
vessel, with all its white sails spread, glanced like a white swan
over the waves, leaving behind "a moon-illumined wake." Two hours
after dark we reached Sestri, where we found miserable accommodations;
and after foraging in vain for something to eat, after our day's fast,
we crept to bed, all sick, sleepy, hungry, and tired.

* * * * *

We leave Genoa to-morrow: I can say but little of it, for I have been
ill, as usual, almost ever since we arrived; and though my little
Diary has become to me a species of hobby, I have lately found it
fatiguing, even to write! and the pleasure and interest it used to
afford me, diminish daily.

Genoa, though fallen, is still "Genoa the proud." She is like a noble
matron, blooming in years, and dignified in decay; while her rival
Venice always used to remind me of a beautiful courtezan repenting in
sackcloth and ashes, and mingling the ragged remnants of her former
splendour with the emblems of present misery, degradation, and
mourning. Pursue the train of similitude, Florence may be likened to a
blooming bride dressed out to meet her lover; Naples to Tasso's
Armida, with all the allurements of the Syren, and all the terrors of
the Sorceress; Rome sits crowned upon the grave of her power, widowed
indeed, and desolate, but still, like the queenly Constance, she
maintains the majesty of Sorrow--

"This is my throne, let kings come bow to it!"

* * * * *

The coup-d'oeil of Genoa, splendid as it is, is not equal to that of
Naples, even setting poetical associations aside: it is built like a
crescent round the harbour, rising abruptly from the margin of the
water, which makes the view from the sea so beautiful: to the north
the hills enclose it round like an amphitheatre. The adjacent country
is covered with villas, gardens, vineyards, woods, and olive-groves
forming a scene most enchanting to the eye and mind, though of a
character very different from the savage luxuriance of the south of
Italy.

The view of the city from any of the heights around, more particularly
from that part of the shore called the Ponente, where we were to-day,
is grand beyond description; on every side the church of Carignano is
a beautiful and striking object.

There is but one street, properly so called, in Genoa--the St