The last day of the Milanese carnival, extended four days beyond the rest of the catholic world by Arabrosian rites. People from the surrounding towns of Pavia, Bergamo, Lodi, etc are flocked to Milan to enjoy the last of the diversions of the season. At two o clock the corso began to throng with carriages and the pelting with berries commenced. Those in masks were in open vehicles, and passing along threw up at the girls on the balconies who vigorously returned the fire on the assailants besprinkling them with plaster dust and corianders.

To the great amusement of the crowds of spectators in the streets who also came in for a share of the missiles - indeed with such vigor did some of the fair ones throw their ammunition, that I thought they were taking revenge on their unfaithful lovers. The old viceroy joined in the sport which nothing but old usage could tolerate. By 5 o clock it was all over - not to be reacted till this time next year - the last masquerade at the la Scala more crowded than ever - came away at 5 in the morning - the streets filled with music & merry making which only finishes with daylight -

By ten o'clock got to the railroad Station. Outside the Porta Nova, which is the only Strada Ferrata in Italy and goes ten miles over a champagne country to Monza, where we arrived in about 20 minutes. A little town of 12,000 inhabitants - a university once imperial palace, the residence of the vicere in summer, jumping down from the cars of the prima classe. Immediately found a cicerone who though only employed him for a few hours, found to be a great rogue.

The palace is a handsome modern building nearly as large as Shonbrun, surrounded by an extensive park and garden. Escorted by the gardener, walked over the latter and was surprised to find a large & beautiful magnolia - as flourishing as on the banks of the Mississippi in Louisiana. As February is not the month even in Lombardy for seeing horticultural beauties, spent the remaining two hours in walking over the town and outskirts, where are several sumptuous villas owned by the nobility of Milan. The most conspicuous of which is the villa Archinta - with its beautiful marble gateway.

The Basilican church is very celebrated and ancient, being founded by Queen Theolinda in the 6th century and whose ashes repose in an urn near the alter. There are a number of historical paintings, illustrative of the pious actions of the queen and the treasury rich with her gifts, among which is preserved a curious antique comb adorned with gold and rubies - also a fan.

Here is also the iron crown, a venerable relic and used from time immemorial to crown the Kings of Italy with and lastly the emperor in 1838. Internally is a small circle of iron, said to be of a nail used in the crucifixion of the saviour. In the adjacent cemetery is shown the dried body of one of the dukes Visconti, who bled to death on horseback from a wound in 1413.

Mounted the belfry and had an interesting view of the surrounding country - the park of the palace and the Alps to the north, but of Milan the view was obscured by smoke and mist. Whirled back on the railroad in 16 minutes and in time for the promenade on the Corso of Milan -

A gay scene last night or rather this morning - the large theatre brilliantly illuminated, the boxes filled with ladies in full dress and the stage and Plateau with dancers & promenaders in masks & dominoes. None admitted without one or the other, so put on a silk and rose col Manteau, which I eventually twisted round my arm to prevent being torn off in the crowd.

Came across a couple of elegantes in satin cloaks - costly plumes gold chains etc., but of natural beauty far outshining their luxurious dress, graceful form, neck & bosom of snowy whiteness etc. etc. Followed them round & round and to the ridottoes most of the night. Spoke to them several times, taking them by the arm etc. and at last began to have hopes of making their acquaintance, when alas a sudden damper put a stop to my aspirations. For passing through the corridor, slipped into one of the dress boxes, filled with ladies and gentlemen. Then saw how I had miscalculated, but how to account for such freedom of manners in respectable ladies? As I patted the tallest on the neck several times saying, Oh come bella, bella, so quite disheartened.

At half past four, made my way to the Gran Brettagna - but too restless and excited to sleep. Rose at nine - took a walk & felt quite refreshed. In the corso this afternoon the balconies filled with throwers of dragets on the passengers in the street. Did all I could to avoid them, but still got my coat & hat besprinkled over. Am told this custom is peculiar to Milan & Rome, as last carnival saw nothing of it at Florence -

The last days of carnival are at hand - grand Festa di ballo tonight at the La Scala. Dined at the Restaurateur del Marino and thence in company with two french gentlemen Mons Crosnier of Lyons & Mons Renay of Calais repaired to the little theatre del Gerolarao (des Marionettes).

Crowded as all the theatres at Milan are and which my guide book says should be seen once. Was not disappointed as the puppets in the Qazza Ladia were played well and the diminutive scenes admirably painted. The audience mostly juvenile, appeared highly delighted. It is now 11 o clock at half past twelve, I leave my room for the festa at La Scala -

Bright clear sky - walked out on the bastions and to the several gates of Milan. At the one called porta Toso, sought for the statue from which it takes its name representing the punishment that women of evil life formerly underwent. Purchased the history of Milan by Count Verri -

The corso crowded with a procession of carriages. The viceroy and his sons attended by Chaoseurs in dashing uniform. Sermon in the Duomo - the preacher occupying the bronze pulpit to the right of the alter, his voice scarcely audible in the lofty dome and arches of the colossal pile -

A bright sky - put my spy glass in my pocket and ascended the Duomo. Accompanied by a guide in priestly robe who pointed out to me the different edifices, most conspicuous in the city. Beyond, the rich plain of Lombardy lays, extending to the North some thirty miles to the Alps - in this direction Como. At the foot, the lake of that name is visible and a little more to the east of Bergamo. Far away in the horizon to the west is a single tower, indistinct - this my guide said was Turin - not less than 80 miles distant. The roof and spires of the Duomo are a forest of sculptures and marble statues - mostly in good taste and in fine preservation. The building of different spires is still going on at an annual cost of 100,000 livres.

After feasting my eyes in the airy regions, descended to the sacristy where the treasures and relics are kept. A silver statue of St. Ambrose, as large as life, holding a golden book in his hands. This present of the city to the Duomo cost the sum of 700,000 livres some sixty years ago. Also a number of others adorned with emeralds, rubies and topazes of large size. The silver utensils used at the coronation of the emperor in 1858 and an anterior cloth of gold embroidery by Pelligrino.

The foliage and figures in excellent style. At our table d'hote - entered into conversation with a literary man who appeared much pleased at my little knowledge of the Italian poets and reciting a few lines from Petrarch gave me his card. Count Ettore Pallastrelli - has traveled in England and understand has published some poetry -