Before midnight passed the Sesio and town of Vercelli, and by five this morning at the Porta Vittoria of Turin. Day just began to break as we passed through the streets of the city - the public squares - the Castello - and the arcades had an air of grandeur in the twilight and silence of the early morning. Selected a comfortable room at the Hotel Feder and though had slept a little in the Malle Post, rolled myself in great coat and pelisse [three-quarter length coat] and took a two hours nap till nine o'clock. At eleven went to the Cathedral, where being Sunday his majesty was attending mass. His pew resembled a royal lodge at a theatre - sumptuously decorated with crimson and gold, and lighted with a profusion of tapers.

A tall straight man apparently past fifty reading very attentively. Near him knelt his son in military uniform and his young daughter in law, lately come from Vienna. After mass a sermon by a little old priest in Italian, who laid it on in right good earnest. The rest of the day spent in walking about - over the handsome bridge of the Po, to the Capuchin monastery on the hill a delightful view of the river and the city. The barefooted monk that accompanied us round the convent said he had worn the same stout cloth coat fourteen years. Dined at the table d'hote, a number of officers in uniform who spoke the Piedemontese dialect. Also a youngEnglish gentlemen son of Col. Cockburn. After dinner walked under the spacious arcades for which Turin is noted - some of the cafe's are splendidly furnished, being lent the theatres are closed -

Made a hearty breakfast on rolls & coffee - packed trunks (a great bore), paid bill and waiters at the Gran Brettagna, and got comfortably seated in the right hand corner of the Malle post. By one o'clock the fine weather continues so that furred pelisse was unnecessary. Drove along the level plain of Lombardy at a brisk pace. In a few hours crossed the Tecinus over a beautiful granite bridge of 11 arches, which landed us in Piedemont - the territory of Carlo Alberto King of Sardinia.

Soon after dark arrived at Navara, a walled town of 15 thousand inhabitants. Here our trunks underwent a search - my books were particularly examined - Le Roi des marmots appears to be very cautious that his subjects morals be not injured by improper books. Dined or rather supped at Novara - five dishes & wine for 1 3/4 francs. Stowed away in a confined Piedemontese Malle poste. Gave it roundly to the conductor - so off we started at a rapid rate for Turin - a fine moonlight night -

Change of scene tomorrow - have taken a place in the courier for Turin in company with Mr. Laidler. Have taken my last walk on the corso and bastions a farewell visit to Claudina - so Adieu to Milan -

About a mile outside the Gate Tenaglia is a country house called Simonetta - noted for a very wonderful echo. Was taken there by Mr. Laidler. A large old building, of palace like dimensions and stone columns in front, built by the Viscontis - Dukes of Milan.

Went up to the 3rd story, shouting out of the window is repeated thirty times, and firing off a pistol they say not less than fifty times. And what is very singular, there is no accounting for it. As the buildings in the vicinity are not particularly lofty or conspicuous for the sound to strike against, the last and most distant reverberations must be from the buildings in the city. Left this curious phenomenon, like others have done before me - quite puzzled to account for such a continued and endless repeated echo.

Dined at the Marino with no less than four counts. Titles are cheap in Lombardy - claims to be called good looking they certainly have. Never saw more handsome young men anywhere, tall well formed, with handsome black hair and beard - would certainly cut out the dandies of Paris -

The fashionables of Milan certainly do not go to the opera to listen to the music. Last night there was such loud talkers in the boxes, that it was impossible to hear anything of the Maria Padilla of Dorrizetti. Whatever the ladies can find to say I can't immune, but there they sit for four hours chattering incessantly so that to a stranger without acquaintances or company the opera of Milan is quite a bore - shall not go again. To sit there like Hogarths critic, while all around is gaiety and amusement, but not at the performance. Besides, one gets tired of gazing -

Received letters from England - Uncle expects me to give him a particular account of men and things, but what do I know of the politics and government of Lombardy. Am now ready to depart - have found company to Turin and perhaps Geneva in Mr. Laidler, an elderly gentleman from North of England and whom I fell in with at the Marino. Spent the evening in my room reading Ferri's Storid di Milano, wrote to Henry E. H. and to Rochester. Sent back Foraier's important letters to Venice without opening them -

The diversions of the past night do not keep the Milanese ladies from their devotions. A number of elegantes at the sermon at the Duomo - some accompanied with their husbands or brothers and others "pun troppo" without "caro sposo [spouse]."

Among the last Claudina in her neat little velvet bonnet, adorned with modest flower. Her little round face and short person looked as amiable and serious as any of them. Dined at the Marino, took leave of Monr. Crosnier of Lyons, who departs for Genoa -