the mountains, the glaciers, the
passes, and valleys, and, above all, his study of the politics of "The
freest people of Europe." How truly prophetic was Carleton, when he
wrote, "This republic, instead of being wiped off from the map, ...
will more likely become a teacher to Europe,"--a truth never so large
as now. He rode over the Spluegen pass, and saw Milan and Verona. From
the city of Romeo and Juliet, he took a carriage in order to visit and
study, with the eye of an experienced engineer and veteran, the
details of the battle of Custozza, where, on June 24th, 1866, the
Archduke Albert gained the victory over the Italian La Marmora.

He reached Venice October 13th. In the old city proudly called the
Queen of the Adriatic, and for centuries a republic, until ground
under the heel of Austrian despotism, Carleton arrived in time to see
the people almost insane with joy. The Austrian garrison was marching
out and the Italian troops were moving in. The red caps and shirts of
the Garibaldians brightened the throng in the streets, and the old
stones of Venice, bathed in salt water at their bases, were deluged
with bunting, flags, and rainbow colors. When King Victor Emmanuel
entered, the scenes of joy and gladness, the sounds of music, the
gliding gondolas, the illuminated marble palaces and humble homes, the
worshipping hosts of people in the churches, and the singing bands in
the streets, taxed to the utmost even Carleton's descriptive powers.
The burden of joy everywhere was "Italy is one from the Alps to the
Adriatic, and Venice is free."

Turning his attention to Rome, where French bayonets were still
supporting the Pope's temporal throne, Carleton discussed a question
of world-wide interest,--the impending loss of papal power and its
probable results. Within a fortnight after his letter on this subject,
the last echoes of the French drum-beat and bugle-blast had died away.
The red trousers of the Emperor's servants were numbered among Rome's
mighty list of things vanished. In the Eternal City itself, Carleton
attended mass at St. Peter's, and then re-read and retold the story of
both the Roman and the Holy Roman Empire. Some of his happiest days
were passed in the studios of American artists and sculptors. There he
saw, in their beginning of outlines and color, on canvas or in clay,
some of the triumphs of art which now adorn American homes and cities.
Fascinated as he was in Pompeii and in Rome with the relics an