. Fragments of an autobiography . nd was soon wandering through arcades filled withmarble tributes to the memory of the dead, someof the sculptors work being very beautiful. Then,across the Campo Santo—the consecrated field—allbedecked with flowers and garlands, I came to wherethe path winds upwards to the graves and monumentsthat dot the hills above. There stands Mazzinis tomb,a mausoleum worthy of the man, severe and solemn.Two short, thickset columns mark the entrance andcarry a massive stone, on which is inscribed in plainlarge characters the name Giuseppe Mazzini. Thatday the monument and

. Fragments of an autobiography . nd was soon wandering through arcades filled withmarble tributes to the memory of the dead, someof the sculptors work being very beautiful. Then,across the Campo Santo—the consecrated field—allbedecked with flowers and garlands, I came to wherethe path winds upwards to the graves and monumentsthat dot the hills above. There stands Mazzinis tomb,a mausoleum worthy of the man, severe and solemn.Two short, thickset columns mark the entrance andcarry a massive stone, on which is inscribed in plainlarge characters the name Giuseppe Mazzini. Thatday the monument and Stock Photo
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. Fragments of an autobiography . nd was soon wandering through arcades filled withmarble tributes to the memory of the dead, someof the sculptors work being very beautiful. Then, across the Campo Santo—the consecrated field—allbedecked with flowers and garlands, I came to wherethe path winds upwards to the graves and monumentsthat dot the hills above. There stands Mazzinis tomb, a mausoleum worthy of the man, severe and solemn.Two short, thickset columns mark the entrance andcarry a massive stone, on which is inscribed in plainlarge characters the name Giuseppe Mazzini. Thatday the monument and the surroundings seemeddoubly impressive, for a guard of honour had beenplaced to hold watch by the great liberator s tomb.It was here, then, that the exile and the outlaw hadat last found rest in the land he loved so well—inGenoa, the city of his birth. I sought out a place from which I could makea water-colour sketch, and, as I sat painting, mythoughts reverted with reverence and with love tothe master and to the friend.. CHAPTER IX ROSSINI well Femettlbei^ my first intro-duction to Madame Eossini in April1854. I was sitting with the Maestroin his study one morning whilst hewas finishing his toilet; his valet hadselected one of two brown wigs, and adjusted it onhis illustrious masters head, leaving the other, placedon a little stand, to ornament the mantelpiece. Nexthe brought him a silver bowl full of milk and oneor two of those cunningly-twisted rolls or crescents, the very thought of which conveys to the appetitesmemory a whiff of dainty Paris. Eossini liked to be informed of the latest news, meaning the up-to-date incidents in Paris society, and to be told what the wicked world was saying, and what bons-mots the clever ones had made; sowe young fellows were expected to drop in occa-sionally at an early hour in the morning and keephim posted up. His comments on our news werealways much more spirituels than the best of bons-mots we could impart, and frequently a good dea