[This letter, written and mailed at Leghorn on the 24th, has never come to hand, having been entrusted to the tender mercies of the French mail which was to leave Leghorn next day by steamer for Marseilles, and thence be taken, via Paris, to Havre, and by steamship to this city. The wretched old apology for a steamship whereon I had reached Leghorn (80 miles) in eighteen hours from Genoa may not yet have completed her return passage between those ports, though I think she has; but whether her officers know enough to receive and deliver a Mail-bag is exceedingly doubtful. If they did, I see not how my letter can have been stopped this side of Marseilles. I remember that it did particular justice to French Government steamships in the Mediterranean and to American Consuls in Italy, showing how our traveling countrymen are crucified between the worthlessness of the former and the rapacity of the latter. Our Consuls may well rejoice that said Letter XXII. comes up missing, and perhaps the Tuscan Police has cause to join in their exultation.

This letter also gave some account of Leghorn, a well-built modern city, the only port of Tuscany, situated on a flat or marsh scarcely raised above the surface of the Mediterranean, and containing some 80,000 inhabitants. It has few or no antiquities, and not much to attract a traveler's attention.

Some thirty miles inland in a north-easterly direction, is Pisa, once a very wealthy and powerful emporium of commerce, now a decaying inland town of no political importance, with perhaps 30,000 inhabitants. It lies on both sides of the Arno, several miles from the sea, and I presume the river-bed has been considerably filled or choked up by sediment and rains since the days of Pisa's glory and power. Her wonderful Leaning Tower is worthy of all the fame it has acquired. It is a beautiful structure, though owing its dignity, doubtless, to some defect in its foundation or construction. The Cathedral of Pisa is a beautiful edifice, most gorgeous in its adornments, and with by far the finest galleries I ever saw. Near these two structures is an extensive burial-place full of sculptures and inscriptions in memory of the dead, some of them 2500 years old, and thence reaching down to the present day. Had I not extended my trip to Rome, I should have brought home far more vivid and lasting impressions of Pisa, which has nevertheless an abiding niche in my memory.

The day before my visit was the anniversary of the Patron Saint of Pisa, which is celebrated every fourth year with extraordinary pomp and festivity. This time, I was informed, the fire-works exploded at the public charge, in honor of this festival, cost over $100,000, though Pisa cannot afford to sustain Free Common Schools, or make any provision for the Education of her Children. Of course, she can afford to die, or is certain to do it, whether she can afford it or not. Pisa is located on a beautiful and fertile plain, and is surrounded by gardens, with fruit and ornamental trees; but much of the soil between it and Leghorn is the property of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who keeps it entirely in grass, affording subsistence to extensive and beautiful herds of Cattle, whence he derives a large income, being the chief milk-seller in his own dominions. So, at least, I was informed.]