HereinMilan，inanancienttumble—downruinofachurch，isthemournfulwreckof，themostcelebratedpaintingintheworld——\"TheLastSupper，\"
byLeonardodaVinci。Wearenotinfalliblejudgesofpictures，butofcoursewewenttheretoseethiswonderfulpainting，oncesobeautiful，alwayssoworshippedbymastersinart，andforevertobefamousinsongandstory。AndthefirstthingthatoccurredwastheinflictiononusofaplacardfairlyreekingwithwretchedEnglish。Takeamorselofit:Bartholomew（thatisthefirstfigureonthelefthandsideatthespectator）uncertainanddoubtfulaboutwhathethinkstohaveheard，anduponwhichhewantstobeassuredbyhimselfatChristandbynoothers。Good，isn\'tit？AndthenPeterisdescribedas\"argumentinginathreateningandangrilyconditionatJudasIscariot。\"
Thisparagraphrecallsthepicture。\"TheLastSupper\"ispaintedonthedilapidatedwallofwhatwasalittlechapelattachedtothemainchurchinancienttimes，Isuppose。Itisbatteredandscarredineverydirection，andstainedanddiscoloredbytime，andNapoleon\'shorseskickedthelegsoffmostthediscipleswhenthey（thehorses，notthedisciples）werestabledtheremorethanhalfacenturyago。
Irecognizedtheoldpictureinamoment——theSaviourwithbowedheadseatedatthecenterofalong，roughtablewithscatteringfruitsanddishesuponit，andsixdisciplesoneithersideintheirlongrobes，talkingtoeachother——thepicturefromwhichallengravingsandallcopieshavebeenmadeforthreecenturies。PerhapsnolivingmanhaseverknownanattempttopainttheLord\'sSupperdifferently。Theworldseemstohavebecomesettledinthebelief，longago，thatitisnotpossibleforhumangeniustooutdothiscreationofdaVinci\'s。Isupposepainterswillgooncopyingitaslongasanyoftheoriginalisleftvisibletotheeye。
Therewereadozeneaselsintheroom，andasmanyartiststransferringthegreatpicturetotheircanvases。Fiftyproofsofsteelengravingsandlithographswerescatteredaround，too。Andasusual，Icouldnothelpnoticinghowsuperiorthecopiesweretotheoriginal，thatis，tomyinexperiencedeye。WhereveryoufindaRaphael，aRubens，aMichelangelo，aCarracci，oradaVinci（andweseethemeveryday），youfindartistscopyingthem，andthecopiesarealwaysthehandsomest。Maybetheoriginalswerehandsomewhentheywerenew，buttheyarenotnow。
Thispictureisaboutthirtyfeetlongandtenortwelvehigh，Ishouldthink，andthefiguresareatleastlife—size。ItisoneofthelargestpaintingsinEurope。
Thecolorsaredimmedwithage;thecountenancesarescaledandmarred，andnearlyallexpressionisgonefromthem;thehairisadeadbluruponthewall，andthereisnolifeintheeyes。Onlytheattitudesarecertain。
Peoplecomeherefromallpartsoftheworldandglorifythismasterpiece。
Theystandentrancedbeforeitwithbatedbreathandpartedlips，andwhentheyspeak，itisonlyinthecatchyejaculationsofrapture:
\"Oh，wonderful！\"
\"Suchexpression！\"
\"Suchgraceofattitude！\"
\"Suchdignity！\"
\"Suchfaultlessdrawing！\"
\"Suchmatchlesscoloring！\"
\"Suchfeeling！\"
\"Whatdelicacyoftouch！\"
\"Whatsublimityofconception！\"
\"Avision！Avision！\"
Ionlyenvythesepeople;Ienvythemtheirhonestadmiration，ifitbehonest——theirdelight，iftheyfeeldelight。Iharbornoanimositytowardanyofthem。Butatthesametimethethoughtwillintrudeitselfuponme:Howcantheyseewhatisnotvisible？Whatwouldyouthinkofamanwholookedatsomedecayed，blind，toothless，pock—markedCleopatraandsaid:\"Whatmatchlessbeauty！Whatsoul！Whatexpression！\"Whatwouldyouthinkofamanwhogazeduponadingy，foggysunsetandsaid:\"Whatsublimity！
Whatfeeling！Whatrichnessofcoloring！\"Whatwouldyouthinkofamanwhostaredinecstasyuponadesertofstumpsandsaid:\"Oh，mysoul，mybeatingheart，whatanobleforestishere！\"
Youwouldthinkthatthosemenhadanastonishingtalentforseeingthingsthathadalreadypassedaway。ItwaswhatIthoughtwhenIstoodbefore\"TheLastSupper\"andheardmenapostrophizingwondersandbeautiesandperfectionswhichhadfadedoutofthepictureandgoneahundredyearsbeforetheywereborn。Wecanimaginethebeautythatwasonceinanagedface;wecanimaginetheforestifweseethestumps;butwecannotabsolutelyseethesethingswhentheyarenotthere。Iamwillingtobelievethattheeyeofthepracticedartistcanrestupon\"TheLastSupper\"andrenewalusterwhereonlyahintofitisleft，supplyatintthathasfadedaway，restoreanexpressionthatisgone;patchandcolorandaddtothedullcanvasuntilatlastitsfiguresshallstandbeforehimaglowwiththelife，thefeeling，thefreshness，yea，withallthenoblebeautythatwastheirswhenfirsttheycamefromthehandofthemaster。ButI
cannotworkthismiracle。Canthoseotheruninspiredvisitorsdoit，ordotheyonlyhappilyimaginetheydo？
Afterreadingsomuchaboutit，Iamsatisfiedthat\'TheLastSupper\"
wasaverymiracleofartonce。Butitwasthreehundredyearsago。
Itvexesmetohearpeopletalksogliblyof\"feeling，\"\"expression，\"
\"tone，\"andthoseothereasilyacquiredandinexpensivetechnicalitiesofartthatmakesuchafineshowinconversationsconcerningpictures。
Thereisnotoneaninseventy—fivehundredthatcantellwhatapicturedfaceisintendedtoexpress。Thereisnotonemaninfivehundredthatcangointoacourtroomandbesurethathewillnotmistakesomeharmlessinnocentofajurymanfortheblack—heartedassassinontrial。
Yetsuchpeopletalkof\"character\"andpresumetointerpret\"expression\"
inpictures。ThereisanoldstorythatMatthews，theactor，wasoncelaudingtheabilityofthehumanfacetoexpressthepassionsandemotionshiddeninthebreast。Hesaidthecountenancecoulddisclosewhatwaspassingintheheartplainerthanthetonguecould。
\"Now，\"hesaid，\"observemyface——whatdoesitexpress？\"
\"Despair！\"
\"Bah，itexpressespeacefulresignation！Whatdoesthisexpress？\"
\"Rage！\"
\"Stuff！Itmeansterror！This！\"
\"Imbecility！\"
\"Fool！Itissmotheredferocity！Nowthis！\"
\"Joy！\"
\"Oh，perdition！Anyasscanseeitmeansinsanity！\"
Expression！PeoplecoollypretendtoreaditwhowouldthinkthemselvespresumptuousiftheypretendedtointerpretthehieroglyphicsontheobelisksofLuxor——yettheyarefullyascompetenttodotheonethingastheother。
IhaveheardtwoveryintelligentcriticsspeakofMurillo\'s\"ImmaculateConception\"（nowinthemuseumatSeville）withinthepastfewdays。Onesaid:
\"Oh，theVirgin\'sfaceisfulloftheecstasyofajoythatiscomplete——thatleavesnothingmoretobedesiredonearth！\"
Theothersaid:
\"Ah，thatwonderfulfaceissohumble，sopleading——itsaysasplainlyaswordscouldsayit:\'Ifear;Itremble;Iamunworthy。ButThywillbedone;sustainThouThyservant！\'\"
Thereadercanseethepictureinanydrawingroom;itcanbeeasilyrecognized:theVirgin（theonlyyoungandreallybeautifulVirginthatwaseverpaintedbyoneoftheoldmasters，someofusthink）standsinthecrescentofthenewmoon，withamultitudeofcherubshoveringabouther，andmorecoming;herhandsarecrosseduponherbreast，anduponherupliftedcountenancefallsagloryoutoftheheavens。Thereadermayamusehimself，ifhechooses，intryingtodeterminewhichofthesegentlemenreadtheVirgin\'s\"expression\"arightorifeitherofthemdidit。
Anyonewhoisacquaintedwiththeoldmasterswillcomprehendhowmuch\"TheLastSupper\"isdamagedwhenIsaythatthespectatorcannotreallytellnowwhetherthedisciplesareHebrewsorItalians。Theseancientpaintersneversucceededindenationalizingthemselves。TheItalianartistspaintedItalianVirgins，theDutchpaintedDutchVirgins，theVirginsoftheFrenchpainterswereFrenchwomen——noneofthemeverputintothefaceoftheMadonnathatindescribablesomethingwhichproclaimstheJewess，whetheryoufindherinNewYork，inConstantinople，inParis，Jerusalem，orintheempireofMorocco。IsawintheSandwichIslands，once，apicturecopiedbyatalentedGermanartistfromanengravinginoneoftheAmericanillustratedpapers。Itwasanallegory，representingMr。Davisintheactofsigningasecessionactorsomesuchdocument。OverhimhoveredtheghostofWashingtoninwarningattitude，andinthebackgroundatroopofshadowysoldiersinContinentaluniformwerelimpingwithshoeless，bandagedfeetthroughadrivingsnowstorm。ValleyForgewassuggested，ofcourse。Thecopyseemedaccurate，andyettherewasadiscrepancysomewhere。AfteralongexaminationIdiscoveredwhatitwas——theshadowysoldierswereallGermans！JeffDaviswasaGerman！EventhehoveringghostwasaGermanghost！Theartisthadunconsciouslyworkedhisnationalityintothepicture。Totellthetruth，IamgettingalittleperplexedaboutJohntheBaptistandhisportraits。
InFranceIfinallygrewreconciledtohimasaFrenchman;hereheisunquestionablyanItalian。Whatnext？CanitbepossiblethatthepaintersmakeJohntheBaptistaSpaniardinMadridandanIrishmaninDublin？
WetookanopenbaroucheanddrovetwomilesoutofMilanto\"seezeecho，\"astheguideexpressedit。Theroadwassmooth，itwasborderedbytrees，fields，andgrassymeadows，andthesoftairwasfilledwiththeodorofflowers。Troopsofpicturesquepeasantgirls，comingfromwork，hootedatus，shoutedatus，madeallmannerofgameofus，andentirelydelightedme。Mylong—cherishedjudgmentwasconfirmed。Ialwaysdidthinkthosefrowzy，romantic，unwashedpeasantgirlsIhadreadsomuchaboutinpoetrywereaglaringfraud。
Weenjoyedourjaunt。Itwasanexhilaratingrelieffromtiresomesightseeing。
Wedistressedourselvesverylittleabouttheastonishingechotheguidetalkedsomuchabout。Weweregrowingaccustomedtoencomiumsonwondersthattoooftenprovednowondersatall。Andsoweweremosthappilydisappointedtofindinthesequelthattheguidehadevenfailedtorisetothemagnitudeofhissubject。
WearrivedatatumbledownoldrookerycalledthePalazzoSimonetti——amassivehewn—stoneaffairoccupiedbyafamilyofraggedItalians。Agood—lookingyounggirlconductedustoawindowonthesecondfloorwhichlookedoutonacourtwalledonthreesidesbytallbuildings。Sheputherheadoutatthewindowandshouted。Theechoansweredmoretimesthanwecouldcount。
Shetookaspeakingtrumpetandthroughitsheshouted，sharpandquick，asingle\"Ha！\"Theechoanswered:
\"Ha！——————ha！—————ha！———ha！——ha！—ha！ha！h—a—a—a—a—a！\"andfinallywentoffintoarollickingconvulsionofthejolliestlaughterthatcouldbeimagined。Itwassojoyful——solongcontinued——soperfectlycordialandheartythateverybodywasforcedtojoinin。Therewasnoresistingit。
Thenthegirltookagunandfiredit。Westoodreadytocounttheastonishingclatterofreverberations。Wecouldnotsayone，two，three，fastenough，butwecoulddotournotebookswithourpencilpointsalmostrapidlyenoughtotakedownasortofshorthandreportoftheresult。Mypagerevealedthefollowingaccount。Icouldnotkeepup，butIdidaswellasIcould。
Isetdownfifty—twodistinctrepetitions，andthentheechogottheadvantageofme。Thedoctorsetdownsixty—four，andthenceforththeechomovedtoofastforhimalso。Aftertheseparateconcussionscouldnolongerbenoted，thereverberationsdwindledtoawild，long—sustainedclatterofsoundssuchasawatchman\'srattleproduces。Itislikelythatthisisthemostremarkableechointheworld。
Thedoctor，injest，offeredtokisstheyounggirl，andwastakenalittleabackwhenshesaidhemightforafranc！Thecommonestgallantrycompelledhimtostandbyhisoffer，andsohepaidthefrancandtookthekiss。Shewasaphilosopher。Shesaidafrancwasagoodthingtohave，andshedidnotcareanythingforonepaltrykiss，becauseshehadamillionleft。Thenourcomrade，alwaysashrewdbusinessman，offeredtotakethewholecargoatthirtydays，butthatlittlefinancialschemewasafailure。
Chapter20
WeleftMilanbyrail。Thecathedralsixorsevenmilesbehindus;vast，dreamy，bluish，snow—cladmountainstwentymilesinfrontofus——theseweretheaccentedpointsinthescenery。Themoreimmediatesceneryconsistedoffieldsandfarmhousesoutsidethecarandamonster—headeddwarfandamoustachedwomaninsideit。Theselatterwerenotshowpeople。Alas，deformityandfemalebeardsaretoocommoninItalytoattractattention。
Wepassedthrougharangeofwild，picturesquehills，steep，wooded，cone—shaped，withruggedcragsprojectinghereandthere，andwithdwellingsandruinouscastlesperchedawayuptowardthedriftingclouds。WelunchedatthecuriousoldtownofComo，atthefootofthelake，andthentookthesmallsteamerandhadanafternoon\'spleasureexcursiontothisplace——Bellaggio。
Whenwewalkedashore，apartyofpolicemen（peoplewhosecockedhatsandshowyuniformswouldshamethefinestuniforminthemilitaryserviceoftheUnitedStates）putusintoalittlestonecellandlockedusin。
Wehadthewholepassengerlistforcompany，buttheirroomwouldhavebeenpreferable，fortherewasnolight，therewerenowindows，noventilation。
Itwascloseandhot。Weweremuchcrowded。ItwastheBlackHoleofCalcuttaonasmallscale。Presentlyasmokeroseaboutourfeet——asmokethatsmelledofallthedeadthingsofearth，ofalltheputrefactionandcorruptionimaginable。
Weweretherefiveminutes，andwhenwegotoutitwashardtotellwhichofuscarriedthevilestfragrance。
Thesemiserableoutcastscalledthat\"fumigating\"us，andthetermwasatameoneindeed。Theyfumigatedustoguardthemselvesagainstthecholera，thoughwehailedfromnoinfectedport。Wehadleftthecholerafarbehindusallthetime。However，theymustkeepepidemicsawaysomehoworother，andfumigationischeaperthansoap。Theymusteitherwashthemselvesorfumigateotherpeople。Someofthelowerclasseshadratherdiethanwash，butthefumigationofstrangerscausesthemnopangs。Theyneednofumigationthemselves。Theirhabitsmakeitunnecessary。Theycarrytheirpreventivewiththem;theysweatandfumigateallthedaylong。ItrustIamahumbleandaconsistentChristian。Itrytodowhatisright。Iknowitismydutyto\"prayforthemthatdespitefullyuseme\";andtherefore，hardasitis，Ishallstilltrytoprayforthesefumigating，maccaroni—stuffingorgan—grinders。
Ourhotelsitsatthewater\'sedge——atleastitsfrontgardendoes——andwewalkamongtheshrubberyandsmokeattwilight;welookafaroffatSwitzerlandandtheAlpsandfeelanindolentwillingnesstolooknocloser;
wegodownthestepsandswiminthelake;wetakeashapelylittleboatandsailabroadamongthereflectionsofthestars，lieonthethwartsandlistentothedistantlaughter，thesinging，thesoftmelodyofflutesandguitarsthatcomesfloatingacrossthewaterfrompleasuringgondolas;
weclosetheeveningwithexasperatingbilliardsononeofthosesameoldexecrabletables。Amidnightluncheoninouramplebedchamber;afinalsmokeinitscontractedverandafacingthewater，thegardens，andthemountains;asummingupoftheday\'sevents。Thentobed，withdrowsybrainsharassedwithamadpanoramathatmixesuppicturesofFrance，ofItaly，oftheship，oftheocean，ofhome，ingrotesqueandbewilderingdisorder。
Thenameltingawayoffamiliarfaces，ofcities，andoftossingwaves，intoagreatcalmofforgetfulnessandpeace。
Afterwhich，thenightmare。
Breakfastinthemorning，andthenthelake。
Ididnotlikeityesterday。IthoughtLakeTahoewasmuchfiner。
Ihavetoconfessnow，however，thatmyjudgmenterredsomewhat，thoughnotextravagantly。IalwayshadanideathatComowasavastbasinofwater，likeTahoe，shutinbygreatmountains。Well，theborderofhugemountainsishere，butthelakeitselfisnotabasin。Itisascrookedasanybrook，andonlyfromone—quartertotwo—thirdsaswideastheMississippi。Thereisnotayardoflowgroundoneithersideofit——nothingbutendlesschainsofmountainsthatspringabruptlyfromthewater\'sedgeandtowertoaltitudesvaryingfromathousandtotwothousandfeet。Theircraggysidesareclothedwithvegetation，andwhitespecksofhousespeepoutfromtheluxuriantfoliageeverywhere;theyareevenpercheduponjuttingandpicturesquepinnaclesathousandfeetaboveyourhead。
Again，formilesalongtheshores，handsomecountryseats，surroundedbygardensandgroves，sitfairlyinthewater，sometimesinnookscarvedbyNatureoutofthevine—hungprecipices，andwithnoingressoregresssavebyboats。Somehavegreatbroadstonestaircasesleadingdowntothewater，withheavystonebalustradesornamentedwithstatuaryandfancifullyadornedwithcreepingvinesandbright—coloredflowers——foralltheworldlikeadropcurtaininatheater——andlackingnothingbutlong—waisted，high—heeledwomenandplumedgallantsinsilkentightscomingdowntogoserenadinginthesplendidgondolainwaiting。
AgreatfeatureofComo\'sattractivenessisthemultitudeofprettyhousesandgardensthatclusteruponitsshoresandonitsmountainsides。
Theylooksosnugandsohomelike，andateventide，wheneverythingseemstoslumberandthemusicofthevesperbellscomesstealingoverthewater，onealmostbelievesthatnowhereelsethanonthelakeofComocantherebefoundsuchaparadiseoftranquilrepose。
FrommywindowhereinBellaggioIhaveaviewoftheothersideofthelakenow，whichisasbeautifulasapicture。Ascarredandwrinkledprecipicerisestoaheightofeighteenhundredfeet;onatinybenchhalfwayupitsvastwallsitsalittlesnowflakeofachurch，nobiggerthanamartinboxapparently;skirtingthebaseofthecliffareahundredorangegrovesandgardens，fleckedwithglimpsesofthewhitedwellingsthatareburiedinthem;infront，threeorfourgondolaslieidleuponthewater——andintheburnishedmirrorofthelake，mountain，chapel，houses，groves，andboatsarecounterfeitedsobrightlyandsoclearlythatonescarceknowswheretherealityleavesoffandthereflectionbegins！
Thesurroundingsofthispicturearefine。Amileawayagrove—plumedpromontoryjutsfarintothelakeandglassesitspalaceinthebluedepths;
inmidstreamaboatiscuttingtheshiningsurfaceandleavingalongtrackbehindlikearayoflight;themountainsbeyondareveiledinadreamypurplehaze;farintheoppositedirectionatumbledmassofdomesandverdantslopesandvalleysbarsthelake，andhereindeeddoesdistancelendenchantmenttotheview——foronthisbroadcanvas，sunandcloudsandtherichestofatmosphereshaveblendedathousandtintstogether，andoveritssurfacethefilmylightsandshadowsdrift，hourafterhour，andglorifyitwithabeautythatseemsreflectedoutofheavenitself。
Beyondallquestion，thisisthemostvoluptuousscenewehaveyetlookedupon。
Lastnightthescenerywasstrikingandpicturesque。Ontheothersidecragsandtreesandsnowyhouseswerereflectedinthelakewithawonderfuldistinctness，andstreamsoflightfrommanyadistantwindowshotfarabroadoverthestillwaters。Onthisside，nearathand，greatmansions，whitewithmoonlight，glaredoutfromthemidstofmassesoffoliagethatlayblackandshapelessintheshadowsthatfellfromthecliffabove——anddowninthemarginofthelakeeveryfeatureoftheweirdvisionwasfaithfullyrepeated。
Todaywehaveidledthroughawonderofagardenattachedtoaducalestate——butenoughofdescriptionisenough，Ijudge。Isuspectthatthiswasthesameplacethegardener\'ssondeceivedtheLadyofLyonswith，butIdonotknow。Youmayhaveheardofthepassagesomewhere:Adeepvale，ShutoutbyAlpinehillsfromtherudeworld，NearaclearlakemarginedbyfruitsofgoldAndwhisperingmyrtles:
Glassingsoftestskies，cloudless，Savewithrareandroseateshadows;
Apalace，liftingtoeternalheavenitsmarbledwalls，Fromoutaglossybowerofcoolestfoliagemusicalwithbirds。Thatisallverywell，exceptthe\"clear\"partofthelake。Itcertainlyisclearerthanagreatmanylakes，buthowdullitswatersarecomparedwiththewonderfultransparenceofLakeTahoe！IspeakofthenorthshoreofTahoe，whereonecancountthescalesonatroutatadepthofahundredandeightyfeet。Ihavetriedtogetthisstatementoffatparhere，butwithnosuccess;soIhavebeenobligedtonegotiateitatfiftypercentdiscount。AtthisrateIfindsometakers;perhapsthereaderwillreceiveitonthesameterms——ninetyfeetinsteadofonehundredandeighty。Butletitberememberedthatthoseareforcedterms——sheriffssaleprices。
AsfarasIamprivatelyconcerned，Iabatenotajotoftheoriginalassertionthatinthosestrangelymagnifyingwatersonemaycountthescalesonatrout（atroutofthelargekind）atadepthofahundredandeightyfeet——mayseeeverypebbleonthebottom——mightevencountapaperofdraypins。
PeopletalkofthetransparentwatersoftheMexicanBayofAcapulco，butinmyownexperienceIknowtheycannotcomparewiththoseIamspeakingof。IhavefishedfortroutinTahoe，andatameasureddepthofeighty—fourfeetIhaveseenthemputtheirnosestothebaitandIcouldseetheirgillsopenandshut。Icouldhardlyhaveseenthetroutthemselvesatthatdistanceintheopenair。
AsIgobackinspiritandrecallthatnoblesea，reposingamongthesnowpeakssixthousandfeetabovetheocean，theconvictioncomesstronguponmeagainthatComowouldonlyseemabedizenedlittlecourtierinthataugustpresence。
SorrowandmisfortuneovertakethelegislaturethatstillfromyeartoyearpermitsTahoetoretainitsunmusicalcognomen！Tahoe！Itsuggestsnocrystalwaters，nopicturesqueshores，nosublimity。Tahoeforaseaintheclouds:aseathathascharacterandassertsitinsolemncalmsattimes，attimesinsavagestorms;aseawhoseroyalseclusionisguardedbyacordonofsentinelpeaksthatlifttheirfrostyfrontsninethousandfeetabovethelevelworld;aseawhoseeveryaspectisimpressive，whosebelongingsareallbeautiful，whoselonelymajestytypestheDeity！
Tahoemeansgrasshoppers。Itmeansgrasshoppersoup。ItisIndianandsuggestiveofIndians。TheysayitisPaiute——possiblyitisDigger。I
amsatisfieditwasnamedbytheDiggers——thosedegradedsavageswhoroasttheirdeadrelatives，thenmixthehumangreaseandashesofboneswithtarand\"gaum\"itthickallovertheirheadsandforeheadsandears，andgocaterwaulingaboutthehillsandcallitmourning。Thesearethegentrythatnamedthelake。
PeoplesaythatTahoemeans\"silverlake\"——\"limpidwater\"——\"fallingleaf。\"Bosh。Itmeansgrasshoppersoup，thefavoritedishoftheDiggertribe，——andofthePaiutesaswell。Itisn\'tworthwhile，inthesepracticaltimes，forpeopletotalkaboutIndianpoetry——thereneverwasanyinthem——exceptintheFenimoreCooperIndians。Buttheyareanextincttribethatneverexisted。IknowtheNobleRedMan。IhavecampedwiththeIndians;
Ihavebeenonthewarpathwiththem，takenpartinthechasewiththem——forgrasshoppers;helpedthemstealcattle;Ihaveroamedwiththem，scalpedthem，hadthemforbreakfast。IwouldgladlyeatthewholeraceifIhadachance。
ButIamgrowingunreliable。Iwillreturntomycomparisonofthelakes。
ComoisalittledeeperthanTahoe，ifpeopleheretellthetruth。Theysayitiseighteenhundredfeetdeepatthispoint，butitdoesnotlookadeadenoughblueforthat。Tahoeisonethousandfivehundredandtwenty—fivefeetdeepinthecenter，bythestategeologist\'smeasurement。Theysaythegreatpeakoppositethistownisfivethousandfeethigh，butIfeelsurethatthreethousandfeetofthatstatementis——agoodhonestlie。
Thelakeisamilewidehereandmaintainsat>outthatwidthfromthispointtoitsnorthernextremity——whichisdistantsixteenmiles，fromheretoitssouthernextremity——sayfifteenmiles——itisnotoverhalfamilewideinanyplace，Ishouldthink。Itssnow—cladmountainsonehearssomuchaboutareonlyseenoccasionally，andtheninthedistance，theAlps。
Tahoeisfromtentoeighteenmileswide，anditsmountainsshutitinlikeawall。Theirsummitsareneverfreefromsnowtheyearround。Onethingaboutitisverystrange:itneverhasevenaskimoficeuponitssurface，althoughlakesinthesamerangeofmountains，lyinginalowerandwarmertemperature，freezeoverinwinter。
Itischeerfultomeetashipmateintheseout—of—the—wayplacesandcomparenoteswithhim。Wehavefoundoneofourshere——anoldsoldierofthewar，whoisseekingbloodlessadventuresandrestfromhiscampaignsinthesesunnylands。*
*ColonelJ。HeronFoster，editorofaPittsburghjournal，andamostestimablegentleman。AsthesesheetsarebeingpreparedforthepressI
ampainedtolearnofhisdeceaseshortlyafterhisreturnhome——M。T。
Chapter21
WEvoyagedbysteamerdowntheLagodiLecco，throughwildmountainscenery，andbyhamletsandvillas，anddisembarkedatthetownofLecco。
Theysaiditwastwohours，bycarriagetotheancientcityofBergamo，andthatwewouldarrivethereingoodseasonfortherailwaytrain。Wegotanopenbaroucheandawild，boisterousdriver，andsetout。Itwasdelightful。Wehadafastteamandaperfectlysmoothroad。Thereweretoweringcliffsonourleft，andtheprettyLagodiLeccoonourright，andeverynowandthenitrainedonus。Justbeforestarting，thedriverpickedup，inthestreet，astumpofacigaraninchlong，andputitinhismouth。Whenhehadcarrieditthusaboutanhour，IthoughtitwouldbeonlyChristiancharitytogivehimalight。Ihandedhimmycigar，whichIhadjustlit，andheputitinhismouthandreturnedhisstumptohispocket！Ineversawamoresociableman。AtleastIneversawamanwhowasmoresociableonashortacquaintance。
WesawinteriorItaly，now。Thehouseswereofsolidstone，andnotofteningoodrepair。Thepeasantsandtheirchildrenwereidle，asageneralthing，andthedonkeysandchickensmadethemselvesathomeindrawing—roomandbed—chamberandwerenotmolested。Thedriversofeachandeveryoneoftheslow—movingmarket—cartswemetwerestretchedinthesunupontheirmerchandise，soundasleep。Everythreeorfourhundredyards，itseemedtome，wecameupontheshrineofsomesaintorother——arudepictureofhimbuiltintoahugecrossorastonepillarbytheroad—side。——SomeofthepicturesoftheSaviourwerecuriositiesintheirway。Theyrepresentedhimstretcheduponthecross，hiscountenancedistortedwithagony。Fromthewoundsofthecrownofthorns;fromthepiercedside;fromthemutilatedhandsandfeet;fromthescourgedbody——fromeveryhandbreadthofhispersonstreamsofbloodwereflowing！Suchagory，ghastlyspectaclewouldfrightenthechildrenoutoftheirsenses，Ishouldthink。Thereweresomeuniqueauxiliariestothepaintingwhichaddedtoitsspiritedeffect。Theseweregenuinewoodenandironimplements，andwereprominentlydisposedroundaboutthefigure:abundleofnails;thehammertodrivethem;thesponge;
thereedthatsupportedit;thecupofvinegar;theladderfortheascentofthecross;thespearthatpiercedtheSaviour\'sside。Thecrownofthornswasmadeofrealthorns，andwasnailedtothesacredhead。InsomeItalianchurch—paintings，evenbytheoldmasters，theSaviourandtheVirginwearsilverorgildedcrownsthatarefastenedtothepicturedheadwithnails。
Theeffectisasgrotesqueasitisincongruous。
Hereandthere，onthefrontsofroadsideinns，wefoundhuge，coarsefrescoesofsufferingmartyrslikethoseintheshrines。Itcouldnothavediminishedtheirsufferingsanytobesouncouthlyrepresented。Wewereintheheartandhomeofpriestcraft——ofahappy，cheerful，contentedignorance，superstition，degradation，poverty，indolence，andeverlastingunaspiringworthlessness。Andwesaidfervently，Itsuitsthesepeopleprecisely;
letthemenjoyit，alongwiththeotheranimals，andHeavenforbidthattheybemolested。Wefeelnomalicetowardthesefumigators。
Wepassedthroughthestrangest，funniest，undreampt—ofoldtowns，weddedtothecustomsandsteepedinthedreamsoftheelderages，andperfectlyunawarethattheworldturnsround！Andperfectlyindifferent，too，astowhetheritturnsaroundorstandsstill。Theyhavenothingtodobuteatandsleepandsleepandeat，andtoilalittlewhentheycangetafriendtostandbyandkeepthemawake。Theyarenotpaidforthinking——theyarenotpaidtofretabouttheworld\'sconcerns。
Theywerewerenotrespectablepeople——theywerenotworthypeople——theywerenotlearnedandwiseandbrilliantpeople——butintheirbreasts，alltheirstupidliveslong，restethapeacethatpassethunderstanding！Howcanmen，callingthemselvesmen，consenttobesodegradedandhappy。
Wewhiskedbymanyagrayoldmedievalcastle，cladthickwithivythatswungitsgreenbannersdownfromtowersandtur—retswhereoncesomeoldCrusader\'sflaghadfloated。Thedriverpointedtooneoftheseancientfortresses，andsaid，（Itranslate）:
\"Doyouseethatgreatironhookthatprojectsfromthewalljustunderthehighestwindowintheruinedtower？\"
Wesaidwecouldnotseeitatsuchadistance，buthadnodoubtitwasthere。
\"Well，\"hesaid;\"thereisalegendconnectedwiththatironhook。Nearlysevenhundredyearsago，thatcastlewasthepropertyofthenobleCountLuigiGennaroGuidoAlphonsodiGenova——\"
\"Whatwashisothername？\"saidDan。
\"Hehadnoothername。ThenameIhavespokenwasallthenamehehad。
Hewasthesonof——\"
\"Poorbuthonestparents——thatisallright——nevermindtheparticulars——goonwiththelegend。\"THELEGEND。Well，then，alltheworld，atthattime，wasinawildexcitementabouttheHolySepulchre。AllthegreatfeudallordsinEuropewerepledgingtheirlandsandpawningtheirplatetofitoutmen—at—armssothattheymightjointhegrandarmiesofChristendomandwinrenownintheHolyWars。