imperceptibly-nor in the head only, but in the heart. Our prejudices leave us, one by one. Seas and mountains are no longer our boundaries. We learn to love, and esteem, and admire beyond them. Our benevolence extends itself with our knowledge. And must we not return better citizens than we went? For the more we become acquainted with the institutions of other countries, the more highly must we value our own.

I THREW down my pen in triumph. "The question,” said I, "is set to rest for ever. And yet

“And yet—” I must still say.1 The WISEST OF MEN seldom went out of the walls of ATHENS; and for that worst of evils, that sickness of the soul, to which we are most liable when most at our ease, is there not after all a surer and yet pleasanter remedy, a remedy for which we have only to cross the threshold? A PIEDMONTESE nobleman, into whose company I fell at TURIN, had not long before experienced its efficacy; and his story he told me without reserve.

"I was weary of life," said he, "and, after a day such as few have known and none would wish to remember, was hurrying along the street to the river, when I felt a sudden check. I turned and beheld a little boy, who had caught the skirt of my cloak in his anxiety to solicit my notice. His look and manner were irresistible. Not less so was the lesson he had learnt. 'There are six of us, and we are dying for want of food.'—'Why should I not,' said I to myself, 'relieve this wretched family? I have the means; and it will not delay me many minutes. But what if it does?' The scene of misery he conducted me to, I cannot describe. I threw them my purse; and their burst of gratitude overcame me. It filled my eyes . it went as a cordial

to my heart. I will call again to-morrow,' I cried. 'Fool that I was, to think of leaving a world where such pleasure was to be had, and so cheaply!'"

1 For that knowledge, indeed, which is the most precious, we have not far to go; and how often is it to be found where least it is looked for?" I have learned more," said a dying man on the scaffold, "in one little dark corner of yonder tower than by any travel in so many places as I have seen."-HOLINSHED.

Then dashed away, playing the prodigal,

And soon was lost-stealing unseen, unheard,

Thro' the long grass, and round the twisted roots
Of aged trees; discovering where it ran
By the fresh verdure. Overcome with heat,
I threw me down; admiring, as I lay,
That shady nook, a singing-place for birds,
That grove so intricate, so full of flowers,
More than enough to please a child a-Maying.

The sun had set, a distant convent-bell
Ringing the Angelus; and now approached
The hour for stir and village gossip there,
The hour REBEKAH came, when from the well
She drew with such alacrity to serve

The stranger and his camels. Soon I heard
Footsteps; and lo, descending by a path
Trodden for ages, many a nymph appeared,
Appeared and vanished, bearing on her head
Her earthen pitcher. It called up the day
ULYSSES landed there; and long I gazed,
Like one awaking in a distant time.1

At length there came the loveliest of them all,
Her little brother dancing down before her;
And ever as he spoke, which he did ever,
Turning and looking up in warmth of heart
And brotherly affection. Stopping there,
She joined her rosy hands, and, filling them
With the pure element, gave him to drink;
And, while he quenched his thirst, standing on tiptoe,
Looked down upon him with a sister's smile,

Nor stirred till he had done, fixed as a statue.

1 The place here described is near Mola di Gaëta in the kingdom of Naples.

Then hadst thou seen them as they stood, CANOVA,
Thou hadst endowed them with immortal youth;

And they had evermore lived undivided,

Winning all hearts-of all thy works the fairest.

'Tis a wild life, fearful and full of change,
The mountain robber's. On the watch he lies,
Levelling his carbine at the passenger;

And, when his work is done, he dares not sleep.

Time was, the trade was nobler, if not honest;
When they that robbed were men of better faith1
Than kings or pontiffs; when, such reverence

The Poet drew among the woods and wilds,

1 Alluding to Alfonso Piccolomini. "Stupiva ciascuno ché, mentre un bandito osservava rigorosamente la sua parola, il Papa non avesse ribrezzo, di mancare alla propria."-GALLUZZI, ii. 364. He was hanged at Florence, March 16, 1591.

A voice was heard, that never bade to spare,1
Crying aloud, "Hence to the distant hills!
TASSO approaches; he whose song beguiles
The day of half its hours; whose sorcery
Dazzles the sense, turning our forest glades
To lists that blaze with gorgeous armory,
Our mountain caves to regal palaces.

Hence, nor descend till he and his are gone.
Let him fear nothing."-When along the shore,
And by the path that, wandering on its way,
Leads through the fatal grove where TULLY fell,
(Grey and o'ergrown, an ancient tomb is there,)
He came and they withdrew, they were a race
Careless of life in others and themselves,
For they had learnt their lesson in a camp;
But not ungenerous. 'Tis no longer so.
Now crafty, cruel, torturing ere they slay
The unhappy captive, and with bitter jests
Mocking misfortune; vain, fantastical,

Wearing whatever glitters in the spoil;

And most devout, though, when they kneel and pray,
With every bead they could recount a murder;

As by a spell they start up in array,2

As by a spell they vanish-theirs a band,
Not as elsewhere, of outlaws, but of such
As sow and reap, and at the cottage-door
Sit to receive, return the traveller's greeting;
Now in the garb of peace, now silently
Arming and issuing forth, led on by men

Whose names on innocent lips are words of fear,

Whose lives have long been forfeit.-Some there are

The captain of the troop was Marco di
Ariosto had a similar adventure with

1 Tasso was returning from Naples to Rome, and had arrived at Mola di Gaëta, when he received this tribute of respect. Sciarra. See MANSO, Vita del Tasso. Filippo Pacchione. See GARofalo.

2 "Cette race de bandits a ses racines dans la population même du pays. La police ne sait où les trouver."-Lettres de Châteauvieux.