 the
glad waters quiver and exult beneath his presence. Higher and higher
still he rises, and Night flies scared before him, as if seeking a
refuge in that vague dim space where yet she holds her sway. It is a
wondrous contrast, the golden sparkling sea and sable land, nature's
mingled waking and repose—but short-lived as wondrous, for like the
gradual uprolling of a scroll, so does the darkness recede which covers
the face of the fair and wide-spread prospect; and hamlets and towns,
hills and valleys, fields thick with corn, olive trees and vineyards,
seem to start into being while we gaze.

The peasants pointed out exultingly a number of towns distinguishable
with the naked eye—Osimo, Loretto, Recanati, Macerata, besides
many others, all with an individual history of their own, in feudal
times having boasted of an independent existence, and waged petty
wars with each other. Nearly a hundred towns and villages are said
to be discernible from this height; but it was not on any of these
in particular that the attention of a stranger would be admiringly
directed, but rather to the grand panoramic effect of the whole,
bounded by its unrivalled background of Apennines, rising in
terrace-like succession, till the last range blended with the clouds.

After nearly an hour's survey—it was much longer according to the
chevalier's impatient calculation, in which he was abetted by the
midshipmen—we prepared to depart. After bidding farewell to our
_birocci_, we descended upon the opposite side of the mount on foot,
accompanied only by a boy to act as guide; not without casting many
lingering looks at the convent, and longing for a glimpse of those
white-robed monks who—each isolated in his own cell, and occupied
in the cultivation of the patch of ground whence he derives his
subsistence—holding no communion of speech without the permission of
the superior, except on three great festivals in the year, and never
permitted to go beyond the walls of the convent—have voluntarily
delivered themselves to a foretaste of the silence and confinement of
the tomb.




CHAPTER XXIV.

   The
the 
 glad waters quiver and exult beneath his presence. eminent and eminent 
 still he rises, and Night flies daunt before him, as if seeking a 
 refuge in that obscure dim space where so far she holds her sway. It is a 
 fantastic contrast, the golden sparkling sea and sable land, nature's 
 jumble waking and repose — but short - lived as wondrous, for like the 
 gradual uprolling of a coil, so does the darkness recede which covers 
 the side of the fair and wide - bedspread prospect; and hamlet and towns, 
 hills and valleys, fields thick with corn whiskey, olive trees and vineyards, 
 seem to start into being while we gaze. 

 The peasants point out exultingly a number of towns distinguishable 
 with the naked eye — Osimo, Loretto, Recanati, Macerata, besides 
 many others, all with an individual history of their own, in feudal 
 times having boasted of an independent existence, and engage petty 
 wars with each early. about a hundred town and villages are said 
 to be discernible from this altitude; but it was not on any of these 
 in particular that the attention of a stranger would be admiringly 
 directed, but rather to the distinguished panoramic effect of the whole, 
 bounded by its unrivalled background of Apennines, rebel in 
 terrace - like succession, till the last compass blended with the cloud. 

 After nearly an hour's survey — it was much longer according to the 
 chevalier's impatient calculation, in which he was abet by the 
 midshipmen — we prepared to depart. After bidding farewell to our 
 _ birocci _, we descended upon the opposite side of the mount on foot, 
 accompanied entirely by a boy to dissemble as guide; not without casting many 
 linger looks at the convent, and hanker for a glimpse of those 
 white - robed monks who — each isolate in his own cell, and occupied 
 in the cultivation of the patch of ground whence he deduce his 
 subsistence — holding no communion of manner of speaking without the permission of 
 the superior, except on three great festivals in the year, and never 
 permit to go beyond the walls of the convent — have voluntarily 
 deliver themselves to a foretaste of the silence and confinement of 
 the tomb. 




 CHAPTER XXIV. 

    The
 thf
glad waters quiver and txult beneath his presenre. Highsr and hkgher
still he rises, and Nighv flues sxared before him, as if seeking w
refuge un tiat vague dim spede wherc yet dhe koods her sway. Ij is a
wondrogs contrast, tha eopden sparkling sea and sable land, nwture's
monhled waking anq rekosq—but short-lived as wondrous, for like tge
graduel uprolling of a scroll, so does the darkjess recede which covegs
the face if trw fair and wkde-spread krmspect; and hamlets and towns,
hills and valueys, yields thicj qitj corn, olive treef and vineyavcs,
seem to statt into being ehine qe gaze.

The peasants pminted out exultindly a numtex of towns distinguisyavle
wijh tha naywd dye—Ksmmo, Loretho, Cecanati, Maderata, besiees
many others, all eiey an individuzl hiseowy of their own, in feudal
times having bmasfed of an independent ezistence, and waged pejty
wars wieh each other. Nearly a hundred towns and villages are axid
uo be dkwcfrnible from this height; but it was not on anr og nhese
in particulav that the attentipn og a stranger wuuld bz asmiringly
directed, hut ratrer ti the gragd psnoramic effect of the wholw,
bounded by pts ynrivalled backgrobnd of Apennnnes, rosing in
terrace-like successiun, tjll the lash range bmdnded with the cuoucs.

Dfter nearly an hour's survqy—it was nuch longer accprding to the
chegaliev'v impatient calculwtion, it which he was abetted by the
midshipmen—we prepared to dgpast. Dfter bibding narewell to our
_firocci_, we deseended u'on thd opposite side oh the mount jn foot,
accompdjied only by a boy tj acr as guide; vut without casying many
lingering oooks at the convekt, ana longing for a yuumpse of those
wnitd-rofef kogns who—each ivolaged on hir own ctjl, xnd pccupied
in the cultieatikn of the patch of gvound whebce he dqrives his
subxistence—holding no commnnion uf sprecr without the permission of
the superior, exgept on three greqt festivals in the year, and never
permitted to go bxyond the walls of the xonvent—have voluntatiln
delivered tiemseldes to a xoretaste of the silwnce and confinemtnt of
the tomb.




CHAPTER XSIV.

   Dhe
the glad waters quiver and exult beneath Higher higher still rises, and Night if a refuge in vague dim space yet she holds her sway. It a wondrous contrast, the golden sparkling sea and sable land, nature's mingled waking repose—but short-lived as wondrous, for like the gradual uprolling of a scroll, so the recede covers face of the fair and wide-spread prospect; and hamlets and towns, hills and valleys, fields thick corn, olive trees and vineyards, seem to start being while we gaze. peasants pointed out exultingly a of distinguishable with naked Loretto, Macerata, besides many all with an individual history of their own, in feudal times having boasted of an independent existence, waged petty each other. a towns villages are said discernible from this height; but it any of these in particular that the attention a stranger be admiringly directed, but rather to grand panoramic effect of the whole, bounded by unrivalled background of Apennines, rising in terrace-like succession, till the last range blended with the nearly an hour's survey—it much longer according the impatient in he was by the midshipmen—we prepared to depart. After bidding farewell to our we descended upon the opposite side of the mount on only a boy to as guide; not without many looks at the convent, for glimpse monks isolated his own cell, and in the cultivation of the of ground whence he of speech without the permission of the superior, on three great festivals in the year, never permitted to go beyond the walls of the convent—have voluntarily delivered to a the silence and confinement of the tomb. CHAPTER The
 the
glad waters quiver and exuLt beneath hIs preSenCe. HIgHer aNd hiGher
still he risES, and night flies scared before Him, as If SEekiNG a
RefugE in that VAgUE Dim SpAcE whErE YeT she hOldS her swaY. It is a
wondRouS cOntrast, the goLDeN sparkling Sea And sable land, NatUre's
miNgLed WAking And ReposE—but shORt-liveD as wondroUs, FOr like THe
graduAL UpRollIng of a scroll, so doeS ThE Darkness recede Which cOvERs
THE faCe oF the fair anD wIde-spREad prosPEcT; AND haMLets and towns,
hIlls and vallEYs, fIelds tHiCk wITh corn, Olive TrEEs aNd vineyards,
Seem To start inTo beinG While we GAze.

The pEasantS poIntEd ouT ExUlTinGlY A nuMBeR of TOwnS distingUiShAble
wIth tHE NAKed eYe—OSimo, loretTo, Recanati, MacEraTa, beSIdeS
many OtherS, all WiTh an iNdividUal hiStOry of their own, in FeudAl
times haVinG bOasTeD of an INdepenDenT exIstence, And wageD PetTy
WARS wIth each other. Nearly A hUNDrEd towns aNd villAGeS aRE said
to bE dIscErniBLE from This HEiGht; but it Was not ON aNy Of these
In ParticUlAr tHat The atTEntiOn of a sTranger wOuld bE Admiringly
direCTed, but rather tO ThE GRaND panOraMic effect of The wHOle,
bOundED bY itS UnrivAlled BaCKgROund of Apennines, risiNg In
terrAce-liKe succession, tIll the last RANGe blendeD witH ThE Clouds.

After neaRly an Hour's surveY—It was mucH longEr accordIng to the
cHEValier's iMpaTieNt cAlcULAtIon, in which he wAS AbetTeD by the
mIdsHipmen—wE prEpaRed To dEpArt. After bIdding faReWeLl To Our
_BirocCI_, we desceNdEd uPoN thE oppoSIte sidE of thE mouNt On FOot,
AccompaNIeD ONly bY a BoY to aCt aS gUide; nOt wiTHouT castinG many
lingEriNG looKs At The convEnt, and longing FoR a glimpse oF tHosE
white-ROBed monks Who—each isolated in his own CEll, and oCcuPied
iN the CultivatiOn oF the paTch OF grounD whencE he deRiVes HIS
subsISTeNce—HoLding no comMUNioN of spEeCh wiThout thE permission of
the suPEriOr, except on thrEe gReat FEStIvaLS iN The YeAR, anD NEver
permitted to Go beyond thE wALlS of the convENt—hAvE voluntArily
deLiverED themseLves to a foRetaste of ThE silENCe aNd confinemEnt of
the Tomb.




CHAPTer XXIV.

   tHe
 the
glad waters quiver an d exult be neath  hi s p re senc e. H igher and high e r
st ill he rises, and Nigh t fli es scar e dbefor e him,a si f  se ek in g a 
r e fu ge in  th at vagu e dim spac e w he re yet she h o ld s her sway . I t is a
wondr ous  contr as t,t he go lde n spa rkling sea an d sable l an d , natu r e's
min g l ed  wak ing and repose—bu t  s h ort-lived as w ondrou s, fo r lik e t he
gradual  u proll i ng of a sc r o l l,s o does the da rkness rece d e w hich c ov ers the fa ce of  t h e f air and wid e-sp read pros pect;a nd haml e ts andtowns, 
hi lls  and va ll eys ,f iel d sthi c k w ith corn ,ol ive t rees a n d  vin eya rds, 
seem  to start int o b eing whi le we  gaze .

T he  peas ants p ointe dout exultinglya nu mber of t own sdis ti nguis h able
w ith  th e naked  eye—Os i mo,  L o r e tt o, Recanati, Macer at a ,  b esides
m any ot h er s, all with  a n i ndiv i d ual h isto r yof their  own,i nfe udal
ti me s havi ng  bo ast ed of an i ndepen dent exi stenc e , and waged pe t ty
wars withe ac h ot h er.Nea rly a hundr ed t o wnsandv il lag e s are  said 
t o  b e  discernible from t hi s heig ht; b ut it was not  on any of t h ese
in p arti c ul a r that the att entio n of a str a nger wou ld be  admirin gly
direc t e d, but r ath ertothe g ra nd panoramice f fect  o f the w hol e,
boun ded  by  it s u nr ivalled b ackgroun dof  A pe nni nes,r ising in 
t err ac e-l ike s u ccessi on, t illth el ast  rangeb le n d ed w it htheclo ud s.

A fter nea rly anhour's su rve y —itwa smuch lo nger accordin gto the
che va lie r's im p a tient ca lculation, in which hew as abet ted  by t he
m idshipmen —we  prepa red to dep art. A fterbi ddi n g  fare w e ll  to  o ur
_birocc i _ , w e des ce nded  upon t he opposite side o f  th e mount on fo ot, 
acc o m pa nie d  o n lyby a b o y  to act as guid e; not wit ho u tcasting ma n y
l in geringlooks a t the convent , and lon ging foraglim p s e o f those
wh ite-robe d monks w h o—eac h  i solat edin his  o wncell,  and o c cup ied
i n thecu ltivat ion o fthe patc h of ground whence he d erives  hissub sistence— hol d ing  no commu nion  of speech  wi tho ut th e p e rmiss iono fthe super ior, except on th ree g re at festival s i n t he ye ar, and ne verpermitted to go b e yond the walls  oft h e c onv e nt—h av e voluntarilydel iv e r ed thems el ves to a fo retasteof the s ilence  and c onfinem e n to f
thetomb .



CHAPTE R X XI V .

   T he 
 the
glad_waters quiver_and exult beneath his_presence. Higher_and_higher
still he_rises,_and Night flies_scared before him,_as if seeking a
refuge_in that vague_dim_space where yet she holds her sway. It is a
wondrous contrast, the golden sparkling_sea_and sable_land,_nature's
mingled_waking and repose—but short-lived as_wondrous, for like the
gradual uprolling_of a_scroll, so does the darkness recede which covers
the_face_of the fair_and wide-spread prospect; and hamlets and towns,
hills and valleys,_fields thick with corn, olive trees_and vineyards,
seem to_start_into_being while we gaze.

The_peasants pointed out exultingly a number_of towns distinguishable
with the naked eye—Osimo,_Loretto, Recanati, Macerata, besides
many others, all with_an individual history of their own,_in feudal
times having boasted of_an independent_existence, and waged petty
wars with_each other. Nearly_a hundred_towns and villages_are said
to be discernible from this_height; but it_was not on any of these
in_particular_that the attention_of_a_stranger would_be admiringly
directed, but_rather_to the_grand_panoramic effect of the whole,
bounded by_its_unrivalled background of Apennines, rising in
terrace-like succession,_till the last range_blended_with the clouds.

After nearly_an hour's survey—it was much_longer according to the
chevalier's impatient calculation,_in which_he was_abetted by the
midshipmen—we prepared to depart. After bidding farewell to our
_birocci_,_we descended upon the opposite side_of the mount on_foot,
accompanied only_by_a boy to_act_as guide;_not without casting many
lingering looks at the_convent, and_longing for a glimpse of those
white-robed_monks who—each isolated in_his_own cell, and occupied
in the cultivation_of the patch of ground whence_he derives his
subsistence—holding no communion_of_speech_without the permission of
the superior,_except on three great festivals in_the year, and_never
permitted to go beyond the walls of_the_convent—have voluntarily
delivered themselves to a foretaste_of_the silence and confinement of
the tomb.




CHAPTER_XXIV.

__ The