On my arrival at Corfu, intending to take the most direct route to England, I engaged a passage on board a trabaccolo to Ancona; but, on the day previous to that settled for sailing, Count Vostizza, through whom I re-. ceived my letters, brought me one from Emily, which greatly shocked me, at the same time removing all necessity for expedition-my kind and generous uncle was no more! He died, as he had lived, happily and tranquilly. For some time there had been a gradual decay of nature, and the good old man had declined without pain or suffering; he had never been confined even to his bed. On the evening before his death he had expressed much anxiety for my return; and it was only on the following morning that the affectionate Emily, entering, as usual, her father's chamber, discovered that he had ceased to breathe. By his will he bequeathed a large property in the funds equally between Emily and me. She had gone to reside, she informed me, with a relation of her mother's; and as I thought of the grief and lonely situation of one I felt the deepest regard for, I determined not to alter the arrangements for my departure. "Surely you will visit Naples on your return homeward ?" said Count Vostizza. I thought of my poor uncle's interdict, and shook my head. Well, well," he continued, "you may visit it some other time; and I may as well put this along with these other letters of introduction. In the house of the Marchese de Castelnova you will meet all the best society of Naples." I warmly thanked the count for this and all his other kind services, and bidding him an affectionate farewell, embarked in the morning on board the trabaccolo. The wind, however, changing round in the night, after a second time encountering a storm in the Adriatic, I was surprised, on going on deck at daylight, to find that we had bore up during the night, and were now running for the Bay of Naples. It was on a fine sunny morning, that, sweeping past the green promontory of Sorentum and the steep heights of Capra, we entered the beautiful Bay of Naples, and involuntarily I acknowledged that fame had not been too lavish in its praise. How strange, I thought, was my uncle's exclusion of this beautiful land! and felt assured that his warning against visiting it was only dictated by a wish to preserve me from its wellknown dissipation and licentious pleasures; and as I was never the slave of my passions, I landed, confident in my own strength, without apprehension of danger, or one foreboding of evil. After I had settled myself in my hotel, I strolled out, to see about purchas I went immediately to Prince Mavrocordato, and having informed him that my private affairs required my presence at home, a vessel of war was placed at my disposal, to convey me to Corfu, and the prince was pleased to pass a very flattering eulogium on a carriage for overland leavpoor services. I took leave of my late coming Nicolo Vasi, the only servant I had now one of the principal post-houses, and I settled "St. Maurice!" exclaimed I, recollecting to start for Rome the week following. After the adventure at Genoa ; but I started with this, I sauntered for an hour or two in the great surprise and emotion on beholding. Villa Reale, when I bethought me of Count Francesca. Her form and features seemed Vostizza's letter of introduction, justly think- to recall some cherished and almost faded ink that I would be able to see all that was vision of former years-the phantom of my deserving of attention at Naples to great ad- memory in her assumed form and substance; vantage under the guidance of such a man and I entertained for her at once a strange as the Marchese de Castelnova. I lost no feeling of intimacy, for which I could not actime in returning to my hotel to procure this count. Words are faint to describe the letter, and hastened to deliver it. The wait- beauty of Francesca. er readily informed me that the house of the Marchese was situated a little beyond the top of the Strada Reala, as you go towards the Tomb of Virgil. This allusion, by a waiter, to the Mantuan bard, greatly pleased one of those bright creations that recall all me; and I set out filled with those delightful and classical associations which Greece and Italy alone call forth. I reached the house of the marchese after a few further inquiries by the way. It was a heavy-looking building, surrounded by a balcony, with a courtyard in front and pleasure.grounds in the rear, sloping down towards the sea. On my stating that I wished to see the Marchese de Castelnova, the porter, a servant dressed in a very showy livery, informed me that "his eccellenza was about to go to the levee, but he would send up my card." Saying which, he showed me into an anteroom. I had not waited long when the groom of the chambers returned to inform me that the marchese desired to see me. I mounted a low flight of marble stairs, and entered a handsome drawing-room, where the marchese, dressed in his court costume, was waiting to receive me, which he did with great cordiality, spoke warmly of his friend Count Vostizza, and hearing that I had been engaged in the war in Greece, for the success of whose cause he said he felt deeply interested, questioned me of its progress, and of the names and characters of its leaders. We were deeply engaged in discussing these topics when the marchesa entered. There was nothing remarkable about the lady of Castelnova, but the same kindness of manner that distinguished her amiable lord. In a few moments I felt quite at my ease with both, and that the reserve and formality of strangers were no longer observed or required in our intercourse. "I am sorry, my lord," said the marchesa, "that your friend does not purpose staying longer at Naples; there is much to see that, I am sure, would interest him; and Francesca or myself would only be too glad to be his cicerone." I had not thought till this moment that they had a daughter. The marchese now retired to go to the royal levee, for which purpose, he said, he had only come into town that day from his villa at Portici; and hoping that I would remain with him the rest of the day, left it to the ladies to entertain me till his return. Shortly after his departure the door opened. Such was Francesca-such was the being that I loved-and, oh! tell me not of love at first sight being a delusion. As after death our souls shall enter different habitations, prepared for the blest, so when we put on that mortal being, we were also endued with the intelligence that animates it from different fountains, all springing from the one throne of heavenly wisdom: I felt that that of Francesca was derived from the same source as mine ;* that nature, or some more The reader will have observed that a certain impassioned descriptions of my unhappy friend, and visionary wildness breaks frequently forth in these he seems to have derived a kind of consolation from these cherished phantasics. A very similar notion, however, to the above was, I believe, enter. tained by the Platonists.-ED. potent power, had made us kindred beings. ed to be aware and pleased at our attachYes, I no sooner saw than I loved her, and, blessed thought! as I then madly conceived it, she soon returned that love. "You have heard that name before, signor?" asked the marchesa, with a look of inquiry, as she noted the surprise I betrayed on hearing it. "True," I replied, "and even more; at the same time I was fortunate enough to render a slight service to him who bore it the Count St. Maurice." "My father!" exclaimed Francesca, while her eyes brightened with pleasure, "then you have met my father?" ment, and the marchese only anxious to prove his hospitality, we had full opportunity to give ourselves up to the enjoyment of the delightful feelings which love, and first love alone, calls forth. Favoured by this delicious clime, each day was the advent of some new scene of pleasure. Together we wandered along the beautiful shores of Baiæ; or setting out in the evening, our guides provided with torches, after visiting Vesuvius, we would enter the de. solate streets of "the Cities of the Dead," the ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum. There sitting down in "the Chamber of In answer to her eager inquiries, and Leda," our congenial fancies would people fearful of alarming, treating the matter as again these deserted halls with their once lightly as possible, I recounted the adven-thoughtless and luxurious occupants; and ture at Genoa. While I did so, however, when recalled to the actual and present by observed such a look of melancholy cloud a chilling sense of that destructive oblivion the kind and expressive features of the which seems destined to overtake all earthmarchesa, that I suddenly paused and triedly existence, we would banish its influence to change the subject; but I had to receive "a world of thanks" from the lovely and affectionate Francesca-she seemed to take a pleasure in calling me, again and again, "the preserver of her dear father." in one fond embrace of undying affection. "And is there, then, nothing real? does man thus perish sooner than his works? And are the feelings that so imperatively sway him-the emotions which agitate the soul, the aspirations which exalt his nature -are they, too, confined to his mortal being? and as vain and fleeting? Does he, as the Psalmist would seem to say, Oh! does he, and all his thoughts perish."" He was now absent in the north of Italy, but would soon be back, and have an opportunity of showing his sense of the service I had rendered him. "Till then," continued the marchesa, "you must consider yourself as one of ourselves." Thus "Oh, no, dear Eugene!" replied Franthis fortuitous circumstance quickly ripen-cesca, pressing my hand to her heart; " do ed acquaintance into regard and intimacy, and this, between Francesca and myself, as quickly ripened into love. Count St. Maurice still continued absent. Day after day we now anxiously looked for his return to tell our love, and put our fate in his hands. "But I know he will consent," said Francesca, as she observed a look of doubt and anxiety gather on my brow; "when he knows you, he will love you; for the generous and noble must always love each other-is it not so, my Eugene ?" And she turned to me with a look so full of smiling confidence, as banished all apprehension of the future from my mind. Her father was, indeed, the constant theme of her eulogy; she looked up to him with all the warm affection and unbounded admiration so beautiful in a child. To her mother she scarcely ever alluded-she had died when she was an infant; but she had almost known her in the likeness and affection of her dear aunt, the marchesa, her mother's only sis ter. not entertain such a thought; these very walls but lately were adorned with a conception of that passion, which, like our souls, can never die-that passion, which in its most exalted form rules and governs the universe. Yes, Eugene," said the lovely and high-minded girl, looking up to the starry heavens above us, "the decadence of Nature may assert its power over the forms of those we love, till time well-nigh perfect their annihilation, and leave no trace of their ever having had existence; but their love will not thus perish-it will endure to bloom again in its own proper region, where our souls will once more commune and unite with each other." I heard her with enthusiasm; and when she finished speaking, pressed her to my heart, and felt, indeed, as if our beings never could be long separated. And O! how often has the memory of that night, and those blessed words, brought hope and comfort to my widowed soul when desolation only was my portion! Did I not think, all this time, of my en- At other times, seated by the venerated gagement with Emily? alas! only for a tomb of the Mantuan bard, we would open moment: my heart had never been a party his own Eneid, and, taking up the story of to that engagement; and now, under the "Infelix Dido," pursue the touching narrainfluence of the most passionate love, the tive of her fatal passion with all the ardour simple beauty and gentle virtues of Emily and sympathy of lovers. How matchless Weston appeared loveless and insipid, are the art and pathos with which the whole when compared with the commanding progress of the love of the hapless Phenissa loveliness, the genius, and noble enthusiasm is told, from the time that the enamoured of Francesca St. Maurice. queen bade the hero relate the misfortunes In the meantime, as the marchesa seem-of his country and himself, and, during the recital, "hung on the speaker's lips," in still of her feelings, and blushing deeply, she increasing admiration, until her last affect-gently disengaged herself from my eming appeal, when she implores him, "Per connubia nostra, per inceptos Hymeneos, Si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quicquam brace. "Nay, droop not, Francesca, my more than life!" said I, as, drawing her arm within mine, we moved from the tomb. That evening I took advantage of being alone with the Marchese de Castelnova to make him acquainted with the state of my How naturally does she begin her address! feelings with regard to Francesca, and to She perceives his sudden coldness, for, as express a hope that in his friendship I the poet parenthetically says, "Quis fallere might find an advocate with the count her possit amantem," opens her exordium, and father. I stated my circumstances, that I beginning with all the indignant chidings was of age, and would leave all the arof disappointed love, softens as she pro-rangements, as to settlements, at their dis. ceeds, until at last she condescends to posal. plead. "Saltem, quæ mihi de te suscepta fuisset He heard me with kindness and attention, but seemed a good deal embarrassed. "Í will be frank with you, my dear sir," said be, "and confess that I have long suspected your attachment, and witnessed it with some apprehension; but do not, I pray you, The character of the Phenician queen-impute this to any want of respect for your her love, so sudden, burning, and resistless -her deep devotion-her tenderness, mingling in her passionate bursts of indignation and resentment, and subduing her soul, as she beholds those "dulces exuviæ," "The Trojan vestments and the conscious bed," proposal, or of regard for yourself; my friend, Count Vostizza's introduction, and my own personal knowledge of you, make me think highly of both. The truth is, I have reason to doubt that Francesca's father will approve of your suit. My friend Count St. Maurice has his prejudices; and circumstances, to which I need not allude, have induced him to form a resolution that his daughter shall not marry an English man." "There," said I, "the count need not alter his resolution in my favour, for I happen to be an Irishman." 99 -even in her last hour of desperate despair, all this is so truly Italian, that I had, with the conformity of her own beautiful language, but little trouble in translating or conveying the spirit of the poet to such a mind as Francesca's, deeply imbued with the spirit "I fear," said the marchese, gravely, of poetry, and so true to nature that not a chord swept by the hand of the master, but "that your being so will be far from makwhat woke a responsive thrill in the hearting any difference. I believe the rule of of the lovely and enthusiastic girl, as I read, with trembling voice and beating heart, her last affecting words "Os impressa toro, Moriemur inultæ Count St. Maurice comprehends all English subjects; but," continued the marchese more cheerfully, "as I dearly love my niece, and suspect that you have only too much of her poor fond heart in your keeping, lest despair might be dangerous, I will tell you a secret. I have reason to know, then, that Count St. Maurice, at this pre sent time, thinks that prohibitory clause of his inconvenient; he will, however, soon be here, and till then I should wish you to abstain from visiting us. I assure you the loss will not be more severely felt by yourself than by us. And now, for a short time, farewell; you may reckon on my good offi I looked up, and beheld Francesca deeply affected; bright tears filled her lovely eyes, and her bosom heaved with emotion -our eyes met-a hectic colour mounted to her cheek, and she hung down her head in graceful confusion. I gazed on her one moment in rapturous silence; for the first time since I loved I felt the whole burning force of that resistless passion, whose per-ces." vading influence sways with one common impulse all animal life. I caught her hand in mine, and pressed her to my heart. "Oh! when," cried I, passionately, when, dearest Francesca, may I call thee mine?" I retired, a good deal surprised and somewhat disappointed, for I had not reckoned on any obstacles to our union, but still without any apprehension for the ultimate issue of our hopes; it was, however, the carnival, and there was to be a masked ball at the villa of the marchese at Baie on the following evening. Need I say, that notwithstanding the prohibition, I I felt her heart beating wildly against my was there, dressed as a Greek caloy er? for own. I raised her drooping head-I im-I was then vain enough to know that the printed burning kisses on her yielding lips garb became me. The Casino was bril-and rapture, like a torrent, swept over liantly illuminated, the dance and revel my soul: but soon regaining the mastery held uninterrupted sway. I soon made "Dear, dear Eugene!" said she, hiding her face in my bosom, "am I not always thine ?" At the side of the bosquetto, overhanging the sea, was raised a picturesque looking ruin, designed by the marchese from those rustic temples which the ancients were in the habit of erecting to their garden deities. Thither we directed our steps. It was as light as day; the moon had risen in all her beauty in the heavens, which glittered with innumerable stars; we entered the temple and sat down. The classic shores, celebrated by Horace and Virgil, stretched away beneath us, bounded by "the dark blue sea," now gemmed with Dian's silvery beam, and hushed to rest deep and tranquil "as a child's repose." Here and there upon its bosom the graceful felucca or speronaro, their white lateen sails hanging gracefully from their tapering yards, urged forward by their welltimed sweeps, were seen making for the harbour; and the song of the mariner, or the plash of the fisherman's oar, as beneath the covert of some beetling cliff he prey, would break for a moment the deep silence of the scene. It was one of those beautiful occasions when we feel how much the loveliness of external nature becomes heightened in the eyes of man, by having mingled with it enough of human association to arrest and engage his sympathy. The mountain glacier would fail to awaken the deep interest of the traveller, were it not that the Switzer's cottage peered upward by its base from the vale below. We dwelt but for a few moments on the intense beauty of the scene, but in that glance our souls seemed with its beauty to entertain the very genius that governed it: with our hearts already attuned to love, we were not slow in discerning the same ineffable spirit at work, maintaining this beauteous harmony and loveliness in the visible creation; and when we turned, looking into each other's eyes, it was in obedience to its all-pervading influence that we sank in the arms of one another. For the first time Francesca returned my burning kisses with the soft but thrilling pressure of her own dewy lips, while our whispering voices died away in murmurs, soft and gentle as the rippling beat of the neighbouring sea. THE DEATH OF THE COURSER. [Count Afieri had a favourite mare that died in a race at Sienna; which circumstance elicited from him a beautiful Sonnet, here imitated.] Queen's, Oxford. A CRY awoke along Sienna's street Joy for the victor, anguish for the dead, But whose the steed whose latest race is sped? My beautiful Origia! thou-the fleet Among the fleetest, is it thine to meet Destruction where thou should'st have triumphed ? Too well proclaim thy doom-thy first defeat. Mourn! O Sienna! mourn! this day should mar W. T. ADVENTURES OF AN ATTORNEY IN SEARCH OF PRACTICE. I Vol. 8vo. ALTHOUGH We are not at liberty to name the author of this agreeable volume, we believe we may venture to state that he is a gentleman standing deservedly high in his profession. He addresses himself to all attornies who want a client, and to all clients who want an attorney; and in narrating the circumstances and events of his own professional life, he lays down in an amus. ing manner many of the usages and practices of law, which are things to be known by all men. As a lawyer, he sees some of these things from a point of view very different from that under which we view them, as laymen and helpless patients; but at the same time he fairly states results, |