oleon, and
justly enthusiastic in the study. His great group I did not see in
such a state as to be secure of my impression. The face of the Pioneer
is very fine, the form of the woman graceful and expressive; but I was
not satisfied with the Indian. I shall see it more as a whole on my
return to Florence.

As to the Eve and the Greek Slave, I could only join with the rest of
the world in admiration of their beauty and the fine feeling of nature
which they exhibit. The statue of Calhoun is full of power, simple,
and majestic in attitude and expression. In busts Powers seems to
me unrivalled; still, he ought not to spend his best years on an
employment which cannot satisfy his ambition nor develop his powers.
If our country loves herself, she will order from him some great work
before the prime of his genius has been frittered away, and his best
years spent on lesser things.

I saw at Florence the festivals of St. John, but they are poor affairs
to one who has seen the Neapolitan and Roman people on such occasions.

Passing from Florence, I came to Bologna,--learned Bologna; indeed an
Italian city, full of expression, of physiognomy, so to speak. A woman
should love Bologna, for there has the spark of intellect in woman
been cherished with reverent care. Not in former ages only, but in
this, Bologna raised a woman who was worthy to the dignities of its
University, and in their Certosa they proudly show the monument to
Matilda Tambroni, late Greek Professor there. Her letters, preserved
by her friends, are said to form a very valuable collection. In their
anatomical hall is the bust of a woman, Professor of Anatomy. In Art
they have had Properzia di Rossi, Elizabetta Sirani, Lavinia Fontana,
and delight to give their works a conspicuous place.

In other cities the men alone have their _Casino dei Nobili_, where
they give balls, _conversazioni_, and similar entertainments. Here
women have one, and are the soul of society.

In Milan, also, I see in the Ambrosian Library the bust of a female
mathematician. These things make me feel that, if the state of woman
in Italy is so depressed, yet a good-will toward a better is not
wholly wanting. Still more significant is the reverence to the Madonna
and innumerable female saints, who, if, like St. Teresa, they had
intellect as well as piety, became counsellors no less than comforters
to the spirit of men.

Ravenna, too, I saw, and its old Christian art, the Pineta, where
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