strengthened by Prince Eugene; but, in 1801, it fell into the hands of
the French, and became part of the kingdom of Italy. The events of 1814
placed the Veronese under the dominion of Austria; and, in 1822, this
ancient capital of the North of Italy was the scene of a congress,
wherein the divisions of Europe were remodelled, and its proportions
changed in a manner that it is to be hoped will, in the end, conduce to
its prosperity. Never had such a royal meeting taken place since the
days of Theodoric, whose companions were princes from every nation on
earth.

But they looked on the ruins of Verona. The Roman Amphitheatre is,
perhaps, the least injured of all the public buildings. On the walls,
the four bridges, the castles, and even the churches, the havoc of mines
and the disfiguring effects of bullets are every where visible. The
poverty that war leaves behind is to be seen in the neglected state of
the public buildings, the substitution of gilded and silvered wood for
the sacred golden candlesticks of the altar, and the destruction or
disappearance of pictures of great price. Yet enough remains to show
that Verona once partook of the riches, the polish, the luxury of
Venice. There are relics of her schools, and fragments of her beautiful
architecture. From the Gothic times to the present, we may trace,
step by step, the improvements and variations of public and private
buildings. The majestic San Zeno is at the head of the churches: there
is nothing but what is ancient, and nothing new or incongruous offends
the eye. The Cathedral still preserves one of Titian's most precious
works. In the portico are two figures in high relief, of white marble:
on the sword of one is the word Durindarda; is this the effigy of
Charlemagne's Orlando? The ancient church of San Fermo, restored in
1319, offers some of the earliest pictures after the first dawn of the
revival of painting, by Stefano da Zevio. To the church of St. George,