When one visits for the firet time this country, where Nature has united all her charms and where art has done much fco embellish the work of man, one voluntarily abandons oneself to 'a transport of enthu 3iaom. Wha* a glorious couutry, one ex claims. How beautiful! How picturesque! Life must) be one perpetual day-dream, in this sunny land ofjjoetry and romance, thinks the superficial tourist. The natives seem ever happy, ever free from care. They sing sweet song 3as they work in the fields, and they play en the mandolin beneath your windows in town on moonlight,nights. All is pbetry and beauty everywhere. The lovely verses of Virgil tshat you learnt long years ago come back to your recollection, and, as you look upon the beautiful scenery, you think that this is the best and loveliest land in all the world, after your own.
