I take train for Venice—Every one on first seeing it says he
shall stay a long time; no one stays more than a fortnight—The
Piazza San Marco; all peace and quiet; no sound of voices, or
wheels, or hoofs—One’s coffee turns to nectar as one feeds
on the Duomo—The palace of the Doges more majestic than
Man—How to imagine what Venice is—The _calle_ and dainty
marble bridges—The little canals, where some keep their own
gondola as we do our own carriage—One takes a gondola at the
Piazzetta—One sweeps by lovely palaces on a Grand Canal—One
gets out at the Rialto—This fine old palace is the General Post
Office, that is the Fondaco dei Turchi—Then the Palazzi Pesaro,
La Ça Doro, Guistiniani, and Foscari—The Arsenal—The Gallery
of Art—Churches angular—Churches domed—The Via Garibaldi—The
squares of St. Maurizio and St. Stephano—Venice very cold
in March—San Marco the most perfect square on earth—The two
Othello families—No fear of being run over by cabs—The opera
at Venice—The island of Lido—Venice compared to a picture
book—Across the Brenner by way of Verona—Munich—Stassfurt
again—Excursions to the Harz—The Brocken, the Affenthaler
valley—The castle of Falconstein—Proposal for a monument
to Goethe—Return to Italy over the Brenner—My travelling
companions—Florence, the Perseus and the Loggia dei Lanzi—The
inspired evangelists of art—I saw my estimable friends the
Villaris again—On my way to Rome 255