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out after dark, and in the day time it would have towards yonder ledge, and threatened them that, been next to impossible to effect his purpose, there if they did not stand still, he would plunge over were so many persons stirring. But there is an it, with the girl in his arms. They treated this old proverb, which says, 'Where there is a will as a vain menace intended to arrest their progress; there is a way.' The brigand descended at night but the girl, who had by this time learned the to the village, bringing along with him a small character of her captor, entreated them to desist. ladder, which he had himself constructed. This She shuddered, and shrunk back from the dreadful

he placed against one of the windows of our neighbor's house, and, climbing up hastily, forced open the casement, and entered a bed-room, which was that of the father and mother. Here he had the

depth before her. Underneath, there were several hundred feet of rock, and a deep lake. The head, as you must feel, gentlemen, turns giddy even in looking up; you may easily conceive, therefore,

audacity to kindle a lamp, by means of a flint and what it must be to look down from that tremensteel which he had brought with him. He then dous height. But the blood of the villagers was drew a large pistol from his pocket, and, approach- heated. They dashed forward, the brigand still ing the bed, determined to shoot them both should waving them back with his hand, and uttering the they awake. Sound sleep, however, preserved most fearful threats and imprecations. Every their lives. He then proceeded into the next instant, he drew nearer and nearer the edge of the room, where he found the young woman's brother, abyss. His face grew pale with rage. He a stout young man of about five-and-twenty. He seized the girl by the hair of her head; he shook

also was asleep, for it was past midnight. In the room adjoining, the brigand found the girl, over whose mouth he passed a tight bandage, tying it firmly behind the head. By doing this he awak

his clenched fist at his pursuers; he foamed at the mouth like a mad dog; and then, mustering up all his force and all his fury, plunged with the girl over the ledge; and, whirling about in the air,

ened her, but she could not speak; and, holding and bounding from crag to crag, they were presthe pistol to her head, he swore if she struggled ently dashed upon the slope which sinks yonder he would shoot her on the spot. He then took into the lake. Their bodies were immediately her in his arms, and carried her, struggling, found, indescribably mutilated and disfigured; and through her father and mother's bed-room; and, the brother and sister, the only hopes of their getting out through the window, descended the parents, were buried in one grave. A hole in the ladder, where he placed her on her feet, and, mountain received the corpse of the brigand. The seizing her by the arm, forced her along. A mother lost her senses, and may still every day be neighbor, who happened at this moment to be looking out through her window, saw the young girl struggling hard with the brigand; and, in the contest, the bandage fell off her mouth. She

seen sitting at her door, asking the passers-by if they have seen Bianca, and if they can tell her when she will come back. Her husband lives to watch over her; and there is not an individual in

CHAPTER XXII.-DIALECTICS IN SMOKE.

then shouted with all her might, waked her father, the whole country round who does not pause to mother, and brother, together with several neigh-cast a pitying blessing upon Bianca's mother, and bors, who all now rushed out to give chase. The on the husband who so tenderly watches over brigand now once more snatched her in his arms, her." and succeeded in effecting his escape into the woods. How he forced her along is not known; but her cries directed the pursuit for some time. The reader will, I trust, excuse me for not At length, however, she became silent, and it was entering here into the military history of the Bocfeared that he had killed her. The night passed chetta, and telling him how the Imperialists forced on and the dawn began to break, when the bri- it in 1746, and thus opened themselves a way to gand and his shivering captive were seen high up Genoa. All this sort of information may be obamong the rocks, making, as it was supposed, to- tained elsewhere. I only undertake to describe wards his cave. The pursuit now recommenced my own movements, with what I saw, felt and with fresh alacrity. Father, brother, and neigh- heard. It belongs to learned travellers to enter

bors, climbed the rocks, spreading themselves so as to encompass the brigand on all sides, and to force him towards yonder precipice, where, it was thought, he must of necessity surrender. Powerful as he was, he gradually became exhausted, by being forced from time to time to carry his captive in his arms. His exertions, therefore, slackened; and the villagers approached nearer and nearer. In order to intimidate them, he drew one of his pistols, and fired. No one was hurt; but,

minutely into the annals of former generations, and relate the fortunes of all the cities and countries through which they passed. My task is a much humbler one, and I cheerfully abandon to them all the honor and profit to be derived from the grandeose style of writing. It will be understood that we did not remain all night on the borders of the tarn, but returned early to our inn, where we enjoyed the luxury of a hot supper. Some physicians, I believe, condemn this meal as

with the second, he shot the brother, who fell, the prolific parent of nightmare, apoplexy, and staggering, into his father's arms. The neigh-what not. But I like it, nevertheless, especially bors, now seeing that blood had been shed, like- when it is eaten in company with pleasant people, wise grew ferocious, and rushing towards the whose voices, looks, and smiles impart to it a brigand, determined to take his life. He retreated better relish than the finest sauce. On the present for its own sake-God forbid!-but for that of in it. He had read "Lamettrie," and the "Sys

occasion we had at immense treat, fresh trout and grayling, known to our neighbors by the poetic name of ombre chevalier I suppose because of its darting through clear streams like a shadow. These delicate fish, nicely fried, and served up like Turkish cababs, hissing hot, appeared much to the taste of all present. The captain pronounced them magnificent; and Madame B-, in all such matters quite his echo, protested she had never tasted anything so good in her life. Carlotta was much of the same opinion. The rest of the party, no way inclined to get up a controversy on the subject, agreed with us to a tittle. So we ate, and were very merry, as people should be who have nothing on their consciences. It would be wrong, however, to grant a monopoly of praise to the fish, since the wine was no less deserving of commendation. It sparkled in the glasses like liquid amber, and diffused around a delicious aroma, enough of itself to intoxicate a poet. Let no one misunderstand me if I confess I love wine. Not

imagined the topic which Até threw in, like the apple of discord, among us. Military men are often great theologians, it being a rule in this world, that people always best like to talk about what they do not understand. Our captain possessed this fine quality, and being, of course, a Protestant, contrived-Heaven knows how!-to engage us all in a discussion on the comparative merits of the two churches. As might have been expected, the Carbonaro looked down with supreme contempt on all churches, and, indeed-which, however, is a very different thing on all religions, also. IHe had been taught, poor fellow, to believe that complete liberty is only to be attained by emancipating the mind from all its preconceived notions, whether true or false; and his creed, accordingly, was the most compendious imaginable, since he believed nothing; but, like another person of our acquaintance, who shall here be nameless, he had not a metaphysical head, and therefore, though he argued a great deal, there was nothing

the agreeable things to which it gives birth among pleasant people. It operates like moral sunshine on the human countenance; it adds fresh brightness to the brightest eyes; and, as it lies cradled in glittering crystal, appears half conscious of the ideas it is capable of inspiring. No philosopher, I admit, has yet discovered the way in which it impregnates the brain, and calls into being swarms of gorgeous fancies, flashes of fiery wit, modifications of grotesque and comic humor, that set the table in a roar. But though the inetaphysics of the affair may baffle us, we cannot be at all mistaken respecting the plain matter of fact. Half the literature of the old world owes its charms to wine. How the poets revel in the subject! How they boast of those "noctes cenæque deorem" over which the Falernian sheds its perfume, and where the Chian or Maræotic imparted fresh wings to the imagination! And yet, I dare say, they were all in reality as sober as quakers, and drank chiefly out of those fabulous bowls which were served up to the gods of Olympus.

téme de la Nature," peeped into Kant, and Hegel, Fichte, and Schelling, and amused himself occasionally with Vanini and Giordano Bruno. He had, accordingly, a great deal to say, and said it with an easy dogmatism, well calculated to impose upon the ignorant.

With this redoubtable young gentleman, the captain, in one of his airy mental excursions, came into collision. But materialism is an unfruitful and uninviting topic; and, to my very great relief, the Dalmatian adroitly shifted the ground of argument, and brought it round to the chances of Catholicism. He thought, not without some reason, that there is a fashion in religion as in other things, and that in the history of the world, faiths come in and out like ruffs and farthingales, though sometimes under new names; but Catholicism he maintained to be the creed best adapted to the wants of man in this world, made up as it is of mystery, dogmatism, and an incessant appeal to the sensibilities of our nature. Its mysteries are calculated to excite and keep alive our curiosity: its dogmatism subdues our will; its poetical charac

It is to be hoped the reader, especially if a lady, is of a tolerant disposition; otherwise, I shall ter addresses itself to our imaginations, and transscarcely obtain forgiveness for my frequent intro-ports us into a world of soft illusions infinitely duction of cigars. But how can one draw a true delightful to the mind. But, my dear sir," ex

picture if he omit the principal figure? And where smokers are assembled, your cigar, like the Zeus of the old Orphic hymn writer, is first, last, and middle. At all events, as soon as we began to feel ourselves comfortable after supper, the captain brought out his case, filled with choice Los dos Amigos, and politely handed it round. No one, of course, refused the proffered weed. Experience had taught us that the ladies were

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claimed the captain, "what signifies this if it be false? as I maintain it to be. It has had its day, however, and is now dying out. People fancy they see tokens of revival in England, France, and elsewhere, because a few mystical priests and clergymen, eager for ecclesiastical domination, are laboring to diffuse an artificial enthusiasm for niches, wax tapers, high altars, beads, copes, and dalmatics. But does the history of mankind afford

tolerant; so we all lighted at once, and were soon one single example of the resuscitation of an old enveloped in an ambrosial cloud, as thick, if not creed? No, sir, a religion, once dead, is dead as fragrant, as that in which πατης θεων τε και forever." ανθρωπων embraced Hera on Olympus.

"But can a religion be dead," interposed Car

Who that had seen us then, overflowing with lotta, " when it has an altar in every heart-when the milk of human kindness, as serene, pacific, it places us, morning and evening, on our knees and dreamy as opium-eaters, would ever have-when it begets hourly in us a fresh sense of dependence on Heaven, and a constant desire to of the river which has its embouchure near that do whatever is best for those around us?"

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some respects, she liked the heretical captain; but as her understanding had always been in priestly leadingstrings, she thought that however pleasant he might be in this world, he would certainly be damned in the next. However, it was for this world, and not the next, that she desired to marry him; and therefore she dissembled her condemnation of his heresy, and adroitly led us back to more pleasant topics, for which I felt deeply indebted to her. It was, indeed, full time, since, with the exception of Carlotta, everybody had begun to wear a controversial aspect, and to look as fierce and threatening as two bulls before a herd of cows in a meadow. Even the influence of Los dos Amigos might not have sufficed to keep us friends. Man's religion or irreligion is his private property, and therefore he feels excessively sore when other people rudely trespass upon it. Indeed, we are as jealous of it as we are of our wives, and are quite as ready to resent an insult offered to it. Doubly valuable, therefore, was the politic interposition of Madame B, and long may she enjoy the blessing which attaches to the peace-maker. Fresh cigars were lighted, fresh bumpers filled up; and when at last we parted for the night, it was as the best friends in the world. We had steered nicely between Scylla and Charybdis, and retired to bed not only whole in bones, but with whole tempers. It was a controversy spoiled.

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As the reader is, of course, well acquainted with the Anabasis, he will remember with what rapture the Greek soldiers beheld, from the summit of certain mountains, the broad, glittering expanse of the Euxine, and how they rushed forward, brandishing their spears and clashing their shields, exclaiming Thalata! thalata!" ("The sea! the sea!") I am not ashamed to say that I experienced something of the same delight when, from the summit of the Bocchetta, I caught the first glimpse of the Mediterranean. Inexpressibly bright and blue was its surface; but it was not its brightness, it was not its color, that acted like a spell on the imagination. It was the thousand associations that had been created in my mind ever since boyhood, that lent to the aspect of it so powerful a charm. All the glory of the Roman republic seemed to be unrolled upon its bosom. The galleys which bore the men who conquered the world, and put their democratic feet upon the necks of so many kings, had ploughed those waves, which roll as freshly now before the breeze as when the prows of the early consuls dashed through them in the rapture of youthful freedom.

We now descended rapidly into the valley which leads to Genoa, following nearly all day the course

city. I know not how it happened, but this was the least pleasant day of the whole journey. We had contracted something like a friendship for each other, and felt that we were here to part, some in one direction, some in another. The Milanese conspirator could not, moreover, forget what dangers and difficulties lay before him. Without a passport he could not enter Genoa; and how, without a passport, was he to embark on any ship or steamer? These embarrassing thoughts occupied his mind, and kept him silent. The Hanoverian and Dalmatian had each his peculiar cause of anxiety. Carlotta and her mamma were almost sad. The captain's family was not addicted to talking, so that the task of keeping up the ball was left entirely to him and me. He was an old traveller, and therefore always endeavored to make the most of his time. He formed no sudden likings or dislikings. He had a smile and a pleasant word for everybody, could discuss all commonplace topics with fluency, regarded everybody around him as a part of his amusement, and was intensely self satisfied and comfortable whether, when they left him, they went east or west, to the antipodes or to the devil. It mattered not a jot to him; he had seen them, he had conversed with them, and when they vanished, he thought as little of the circumstance as the dispersion of a cloud in a summer sky. Of this philosophy he was proud; and some, perhaps, might have envied him. I confess I did not. I regret parting with people, especially if their company has given me much pleasure; and, therefore, with all the efforts I could make, I was unable to lose sight of the fact that our delightful little party would be broken up in a few hours, and that I should have once more to be thrown amongst entire strangers. About a mile from Genoa, the Milanese took his leave of us, shaking hands with more heartiness than I expected. He evidently felt much regret; and, as he went off, I sincerely wished success to him and his cause. Presently we rattled into the streets of Genoa, stopped in the inn yard, shook hands, took our leave of each other, and in ten minutes I found myself in a pleasant little bed-room overlooking the sea, the breeze from which was blow ing softly in at the open windows.

CHAPTER XXIII. -COLUMBUS AND THE VIRGIN.

You have, of course, experienced that sudden collapse of the mind which follows upon the heels of protracted excitement. Everything above, around, and below you, seems flat, stale, and unprofitable. Your coffee is bad, your supper is worse, the smoke of your cigar smells like assafœtida. When you go to bed, you can't sleep, and your waking thoughts are like so many hellish dreams. I began to think what a fool I was to leave home, and travel thousands of miles by sea and land, just to see a river, a few old walls, columns, and a rabble of dirty Arabs. Could not I read about them, and be contented? And then, how cruel it was to leave my wife and children,

and the cholera committing frightful ravages along | had ever been at Genoa before. I replied in the the frontier, and just upon the point of entering negative.

ter ages. I have traversed the Atlantic in his track; I have explored every island in the Gulf of Mexico; I have sailed from Cape Horn to Hud son's Bay; and my mind has all the while been filled with the image of Columbus, whose genius gave the new world to the old."

"it

I thanked him sincerely for his information, and asked him where the portrait was to be found. "I will take you to the house," said he; is at present in the possession of a priest, a very old friend of mine, who will have great pleasure in showing it to you."

"Shall we go at once?" I inquired. "With all my heart!" cried the old sailor. And forth we issued, puffing our cigars as we went. He inquired in what direction I was travelling; and, when I mentioned Greece and Egypt, he said he had been in both countries, had smoked a cigar on the Acropolis, bathed in the waters of Castalia, spent a night in the Catacombs, and drank from a bucket at the bottom of Joseph's well. He was now on a voyage to the Bermudas; but, as the ship would not sail in less than three days, he said it would afford him infinite pleasure to be useful to me in the mean time. When we had reached our point of destination, he handed me over to the priest, and went away to transact some business in a distant quarter of the city. The priest, a jolly old fellow, whose ample, portly figure, formed a complete contrast with that of his friend, took me straight up stairs, where he withdrew a curtain from a picture, which I found to be a portrait of a woman.

Switzerland. I should positively never see them "Then," said he, "let me tell you of the only again. For was not the plague always in Egypt? curiosity worthy of notice which this city conDid not the desert swarm with robbers? Were tains. It is the portrait of Christopher Columbus, there not crocodiles in the Nile big enough to the most extraordinary man produced in these latswallow me at a single mouthful? Were there not fevers of all shades and hues in Alexandria, in Cairo, and all the way up the valley? It would have been much better to have thought of these things in time. And then, would my constitution hold out? Was I not already immensely fatigued? Was I not thin? Was I not feverish? Was I not, in short, utterly bedeviled? In this pleasant frame of mind I went to bed, where, instead of enjoying sweet sleep, and getting comforted and refreshed, my torments were increased a hundred fold. No sooner had I extinguished the candle, than the enemy descended on me in myriads, in the shape of infernal musquitoes, which stung me almost to madness. I battled with them manfully. I killed them, hundreds at a time, on my forehead and on my cheeks, till my hands and face were covered with blood. Still their numbers did not seem in the least to be diminished. They renewed the attack as long as there was a whole place left on my skin, and then stuck their stings into the wounds made by their predecessors. If I had known Sterne's chapter of curses by heart, I would gladly have levelled it against musquitoes and all Genoa, which I pronounced all night long to be one of the avenues to Tartarus. Once I fancied it would be a fine stroke of northern policy to wrap my head in the sheet; but, besides that I should soon have been stifled on account of the heat of the room, large numbers of the foe insinuated themselves along with me under the fallacious covering, and appeared to sting me more at their ease. So, giving up all hope of sleep, and of remission from torment, there I lay, uttering all sorts of imprecations, till the dawn. Then, however, as if by magic, every little winged devil took its flight, and I enjoyed two or three hours of delicious sleep. When, very late in the morning, the chambermaid came to call me, she uttered a loud exclamation on seeing the state of my face, and begged a thousand pardons. It had been all her fault, she said, for, not remembering that I was a stranger, she had omitted to pull down the musquito curtains, which had hung uselessly over my head all night. She desired me, however, to remain quietly in bed, and left the room. Returning presently, she brought along with her a cup of delicious coffee, and a thin, white, warm liquid, in a basin, in which she dipped a small bit of muslin, and bathed my forehead and face, which

"Why," said I, "this is not Christopher Columbus, but the blessed Virgin."

"It is all one," answered he; "and for the rest, I have sold the picture of the great navigator, long ago, but thought you would like to see this fine work of art, which is also for sale."

"I don't buy pictures," said I.

you

"It does not signify," said the priest; may see all I have, as, if l'illustrissimo signor does not purchase himself, he may know some one who does."

I had gone to see Columbus, and not the Virgin Mary; who smiled on me, nevertheless, from the canvas, and in some sort reconciled me to my disappointment. I experienced, at that moment, the full fascination of art. A second look at that divine countenance shed a calm over my whole mind.

were dreadfully swollen. I forgot to inquire what It was full of sweetness, full of tranquil beauty; the liquid was; but it almost immediately relieved and a light beamed from the eyes which nothing the pain, and, in the course of half-an-hour, re- but the touch of genius could bestow. I wished,

duced the swelling considerably, so that I was, at all events, fit to be seen. I then got up and dressed, and, by eleven o'clock, was seated in a coffee-room smoking a cigar. A little, withered old man, who sat there smoking also, asked me if I

from the bottom of my soul, I had been a picturebuyer, and could have afforded to take that gem with me to Egypt. I could have held converse with it by the way. It would have raised and purified my thoughts, and done me good in all

"What is the subject?" I inquired. "Artemis bathing in an Arcadian fountain,"

said he.

respects. I congratulated the priest on his possessing so fine a picture, and asked him if he knew the artist. He said he did not, but supposed it must be by some great master. I entirely agreed I looked in his face to observe the expression of with him. The price he required for it, however, it. It was full of calmness and dignity. He was very moderate. Other pictures he had, which, thought of Artemis as of a saint. I promised to though not equally beautiful, were no less valua- call on him next morning, and went down to take ble, perhaps, in a commercial point of view. We a stroll on the Mola, and enjoy the fresh breeze conversed on his treasures for some time; and when from the Mediterranean. The view of the

I took my leave, he invited me to come again. He observed, moreover, if the sight of works of art delighted me, he would show me a church in which, to use his own expression, there was a picture worth all Genoa.

"Come to me to-morrow," said he, "and I will go with you. To-day I have some little business to transact, but I shall then be entirely at your disposal."

city

But no; I will not describe it now; another time will do better, when I shall have seen it from all points, and have studied all its aspects. Genoa stands alone among Italian capitals, for the nature of its site, and the splendor of its palaces. It is, perhaps, the finest monument existing of almost imperial magnificence in decay.

IMPRESSIONS OF ETON, SEPTEMBER 8, 1849. Graceful, and clear, and smoothly musical.

ETON, amidst thy pleasant fields I stand
Unknown, unknowing; I can claim no part
In the long glories which thy name recalls,
The trophies and the thousand monuments

Which thou has reared for learning and mankind;

Nor do thy courts and towers to me bring back
A schoolboy's youth :-I am not of thy sons,
And yet I feel the genius of the place;
It breathes upon my brow and on my mind;
It spreads around me like an atmosphere ;-
For all things are in unison:-the stream
Winding in its calm beauty through the meads,
This floor of softest grass, these waving trees;
While, opposite, from that majestic pile-
Windsor's and Britain's castellated pride-
The spirit of old monarchy looks down.
Nature and Art, the Present and the Past,
All recollections and all images,
The very aspect and the very air,

The visible objects and the historic forms
That crowd upon the fancy, have one voice,
And make one harmony. Illustrious spot!
I view thee, Eton, and I seem to see
Through the pervading influence of what spells,
What culture of the soul, they who are thine
Became what they have been and what they are.
All of refinement speaks, and polished skill
In sport or study; liberal thoughts and deeds;
And courtesy, and gentle courage born
Of honor, and the nicest sense of shame.
Well also with these structures may accord
Religion, mellowed by Humanity;
Tempering the sallies of a lavish mirth,
And passions in their quick development;

Yet, by the margin of this placid tide,
Yet, in the shelter of these cloistered walls,
Tranquil, though unmonastic, have been nursed
Large aspirations, high and deep resolves,
And all that forms, or feeds, the heroic soul.

How many a generous and romantic boy,
Wrapt up in seeming idleness, hath sat
Beneath these shades, or in these waters dipped
His listless oar, blending and cherishing
Great hopes of fame, fond dreams of earliest love !
How, too, the long procession marches by
Of orators and statesmen; leaders cheered
By friends and foes in senates; chiefs renowned
In camp or court; and prelates of the church,
Worthy the honored mitres which they wore-
Here taught, here trained, here nurtured, here in-
spired;

Then, by the gratitude of after-days,
Rendering these precincts glorious, peopling them
With mighty shadows! Quiet reigns around,
But not desertion. Though vacation's hour
Awhile has scattered the light-hearted throng,
What names start up, what memories, e'en for me,
A stranger-nor without the thrill and glow
Of genial joy! For who that knows the lore
Of England, and the annals of her race,
Can look with cold and unadmiring eye
On Eton, and these schools, founded by kings,
By nobles fostered? Ah, what marvel then,
That Loyalty is here the boast and badge?
Or if the scions of such stock have linked
Their creeds and fortunes with the popular cause,
Democracy has worn a courtlier robe,

And shown a chivalrous and gallant front,

Hallowing their earthly reverence, which upholds Nothing of coarse or rude; has loved to muse

Or throne or altar, and th' inviolate line

Of fixed traditions in the British state.

Not here, methinks, not in such scenes as these,
Could rigid Science most delight to dwell,
Labored, exact, mechanical; not here

Should crabbed Erudition hold her seat,
Ponderous and harsh; not here be sought and found
The stern, untamed Sublimity, that draws
Its accents from hoarse waves and mountains hoar,
In savage grandeur and wild solitude;—
But Scholarship, in happier charms arrayed,

And Verse, that, like the silver Thames, flows on

On Greek republics, such as Athens was,
Or in his lofty visions Plato saw;

Or else hath striv'n to lift the struggling mass.
To purer tastes, and soften human life
With Libraries and Galleries of Art,
Wide open to the sons of want and toil.

But my words wander; let me not evoke
One gloomier shape, where all to-day is peace ;-
All, save those engines on their iron path,
Bringing the smoke and din of the vexed world,
Marring and disenchanting this fair scene.

J. S. B.

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