The Lariano.

The Emerald Lake, Canada.

Garden Of The Villa Melzi, With Statues Of Dante And Beatrice.

Almost Venetian.

Their principal characteristic is a scandalous frivolity. Unconscious of the awful spectacle which they present to gods and men, they speak of Rameses the Great as the "Cigarette Man;" make the canals of Venice echo to such slang as "To the woods with you! Twenty-three! Skiddoo!"; and motor specially from Cairo to the solemn Pyramids "to honk the Sphinx"! There is no greater proof of degeneracy than flippancy in the presence of sublimity. Mockery is the dialect of Mediocrity.

The Villa P 1 i n i a n a stands in solemn stateli-ness within a solitary curve of Como's eastern shore.

Historic Homes And Gracious Gardens.

The Villa Pliniana.

So spacious is its size, so sombre is the background of dark pines and cypresses, against the gloom of which it rises in relief, that its bright salmon-colored walls are visible at a distance of some miles. Though it is possible to reach it on the land from the neighboring steamboat-landing of Palanzo, it is far more impressive to approach the place by water. Yet, as one's barca steals within the shadow of the wooded cliff that towers high above it, one sees that this imposing structure is now half a ruin. A touch on the incongruously modern knob of an electric bell near the old iron gate brings, after some delay, a taciturn retainer who, with a sigh well suited to the scene, unlocks the rusty portal, and leads the way up flights of steps humid with dampness and enclosed by sunless vaults, flecked here and there with mossy mold. Then, suddenly, one sees before him a large courtyard, bounded on three sides by the massive mansion and on the other by the mountain, from whose cavernous flank issues the stream described by Pliny eighteen hundred years ago. Lest we should possibly forget the Roman's words, his famous letter to his friend, Licinius Sura, is twice reproduced in fresco here, once in the original Latin, once in Italian. An English version of it runs as follows :

"I have brought you as a little present out of the country a query which well deserves the consideration of your extensive knowledge. There is a spring which rises in a neighbouring mountain, and running among the rocks is received into a little banqueting-room, artificially formed for that purpose, from whence, after being detained a short time, it falls into the Larian lake. The nature of this spring is extremely curious; it ebbs and flows regularly three times a day. The increase and decrease is plainly visible, and exceedingly interesting to observe. You sit down by the side of the fountain, and while you are taking a repast and drinking its water, which is extremely cool, you see it gradually rise and fall. If you place a ring, or anything else at the bottom, when it is dry, the water creeps gradually up, first gently washing, finally covering it entirely, and then little by little subsides again. If you wait long enough, you may see it thus alternately advance and recede three successive times. Shall we say that some secret current of air stops and opens the fountain-head, first rushing in and checking the flow, and then, driven back by the counter-resistance of the water, escaping again; as we see in bottles, and other vessels of that nature, where, there not being a free and open passage, - though you turn their necks perpendicularly or obliquely downwards, - yet, the outward air obstructing the vent, they discharge their contents as it were by starts? Or, may not this small collection of water be successively contracted and enlarged upon the same principle as the ebb and flow of the sea? Or, again, as those rivers which discharge themselves into the sea, meeting with contrary winds and the swell of the ocean, are forced back in their channels, so, in the same way, may there not be something that checks this fountain, for a time, in its progress? Or is there rather a certain reservoir that contains these waters in the bowels of the earth, and while it is recruiting its discharges, the stream in consequence flows more slowly and in less quantity, but, when it has collected its due measure, runs on again in its usual strength and fulness? Or lastly, is there I know not what kind of subterranean counterpoise, that throws up the water when the fountain is dry, and keeps it back when it is full? You, who are so well qualified for the enquiry, will examine into the causes of this wonderful phenomenon; it will be sufficient for me if I have given you an adequate description of it. Farewell".