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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.*

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

* 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.

P

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.

6 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 !”'

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THE FOUNTAIN.

It was a well Of whitest marble, white as from the quarry; And richly wrought with many a high relief, Greek sculpture-in some earlier day perhaps A tomb, and honoured with a hero's ashes. The water from the rock filled and o'erflowed ; 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.*

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.

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.

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

BANDITTI.

'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 faith *
Than kings or pontiffs ; when, such reverence
The Poet drew among the woods and wilds,
A voice was heard, that never bade to spare,t
Crying aloud, 'Hence to the distant hills !

Alluding to Alfonso Piccolomini. “Stupiva ciascuno chè, mentre un bandito osservava rigorosamente la sua parola, il Papa non avesse ribrezzo di mancare alla propria.”—Galluz21, ii. 364. He was hanged at Florence, March 16, 1591.

+ Tasso was returning from Naples to Rome, and had arrived at Mola Di Gaëta, when he received this tribute of respect. The captain of the troop was Marco di Sciarra. See Manso, Vita del Tasso. Ariosto had a similar adventure with Filippo Pacchione. See GAROFALO.

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