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his basket. The party were in punts, and were successful. They, however, ceased from their sport to partake of some luncheon on the water, and Downs requested D. to draw the cork of a bottle of sherry. D― left his line in the water; and, while his back was turned, the Major rapidly drew up the float, hooked the red-herring, and threw it quietly into the river. He then accepted of some sandwiches; and whilst D. was pouring out a glass of wine, he said, "See-see, you have got a bite there!

D

"

as quickly as he could pulled up the line, and was utterly astounded at the fish he had caught!

Mr. D. is now a first-rate disciple of Izaak Walton.

In writing about Poland, if an author is at a loss for surnames, all he has to do is, to sneeze, and add the syllable SKI afterwards. For instance, in the various strange sounds of a sneeze,-AthishahSKI; araposh-sKI; sbldsph-SKI; stchar-SKI; tishoo-SKI ; — all excellent Polish names !

Robert William Elliston was at Croydon fair, and, having rather exceeded his customary potation after dinner, he staggered and fell down. Two respectable persons immediately lifted him up on his legs. He gazed for an instant at them alternately, and drawled out gravely, "You will rob me, of course; but for God's sake do not otherwise ill-treat me!"

Mr. A was at a pleasant convivial party, and, having done something contrary to the rules of the society, he was called to order by the chairman, who jocosely reprimanded him at some length, and concluded by observing, that he feared the exhortation had produced very little effect on the person addressed; in fact, it was "casting pearls before swine." A rose with an humble demeanour, modestly apologized for his misbehaviour, and, perfectly agreeing with the chairman in his last line, begged leave most respectfully "to cast HIMSELF before THE SOCIETY.”

'TIS HE!

BY CAPTAIN MEDWIN.

As I was walking one day last May in the Tuileries Gardens, armin-arm with a French gentleman, a stranger en passant, remarked, pointing to another, "Tis he! My friend, who overheard the words as well as myself, suddenly turned pale, and became so seriously indisposed that he alarmed me.

I led him to a bench, fortunately at hand, and asked him the cause of his emotion. When he had sufficiently recovered he said, with a deep sigh,

"Those horrible words! I have the greatest possible antipathy to them; and, when you have heard my story, you will think with reason,—almost as great an objection to them as Lara had.

"No one can read that tale, and entertain a doubt that it is a sequel to the Corsair,-that, in fact, Conrad and Lara are the same person.

The scene in the ball-room, where Ezzelin, pointing to Lara, says, 'Tis he!' has never recurred to my mind without exciting the most powerful emotions. "Tis he!-the pirate!the man of blood! the seducer of my Medora ! - the murderer of my happiness!-the blight of my existence!' Those two monosyllables evoke, like a spell, all the scenes of the past, enable me to fill up the blanks in the sketch-to complete the picture. That Ezzelin was acquainted with some damning secret of Lara's is clear, by his being afraid to face him in single combat, and resorting to an act which seems otherwise foreign to his character dark as it was sination. It is the mystery in which your great poet enwraps all his personages which gives them such a breathless interest. It is the anatomy or dissection of his own mind that lays theirs bare to the reader, and makes us, in some measure, associate the author with the personages he draws. Thus these two words, 'Tis he!' would furnish materials for volumes.

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But, to my tale :-"During the time that the head-quarters of our army were at Milan, I obtained leave of absence to go to Rome. I was in the habit of visiting the ruins at night; and, after having passed several hours in the Forum, the way back to my apartment lying in the direction of the Piazza Navona, I entered the square, and posted myself in the shadow of the church of St. Agnese. The moonbeams were playing on the magnificent fountain immediately below its portico; and I stood there for some time admiring the colossal statue that is raising its arms as though the massive entablature of the building was about to fall, and crush it,* when a woman suddenly approached me, and said to herself, "Tis he!' Her voice was so musical in its tone that I had not the heart to deny the recognition, and, perceiving that she beckoned to me, I followed her.

"Though I had been in the Eternal City some weeks, I was only familiar with the principal thoroughfares, and soon found myself lost in a labyrinth of streets. After traversing several, with which I was unacquainted, she stopped at a palace, along the entire front of which ran a colonnade of pillars that by the appearance seemed to have belonged to some ancient temple. They were of the Corinthian order; and the moonlight that played on the foliaged capitals only seemed to throw into deeper shade the roof which they supported.

"My mute conductress now entered a spacious hall, lighted by a single lamp in the centre, which showed that it was paved with black and white marble, and ornamented by antique statues of exquisite workmanship. I here hesitated whether I should pursue the adventure, but, as one under the influence of a spell, an irresistible impulse led me on. We now ascended a spacious staircase; and my guide having opened a door, ushered me into a saloon blazing with light, which for a moment blinded me. But, if I was struck with the splendour of the apartment, my eyes were still more riveted by a female figure lying on a couch at the further extremity. She was in a deep sleep, and had not heard my steps. I too fancied myself in a dream, and that I was realizing some of the magic wonders of Oriental fable.

"Finding that she was motionless, I advanced, and, bending over her, beheld a girl of perhaps eighteen or twenty. Her form, perfectly

VOL. VII.

*It is the satire of a rival architect.-ED.

2 F

revealed through the folds of the white gauze dress in which she was enveloped, had all the grace and symmetry of a Grecian nymph. She was a brunette; had one of those clear brown complexions for which the Roman women are remarkable; and her dark hair fell over her perfect shoulders, one long ringlet having strayed across her cheek. I hardly dared breathe lest I should wake her.

"At length she sighed, and stared at me vacantly, like one in a trance. But, on a sudden, as if she all at once had recalled her wandering senses, she leapt up, and screamed loudly,

866

"""Tis not he! Who are you? How came you here? I entreat you to depart, signore! If he should find you here I am lost!' 'Signora bella incognita,' I replied, an accident · the most fortunate of accidents, has brought me here. I was on the Piazza Navona, and

"That was the appointed rendezvous.

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Teresa is mad.

what a mistake-what a mistake!' said she, wringing her hands. "One of the happiest of mistakes!' I replied.

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Oh

Signore,' said the incognita entreatingly, I conjure you to leave me. If he should find you here he will murder me.'

"At this moment, as I was about to return, a young Italian burst into the room. The lady sunk back on the couch, and hid her face with her hands. For a moment he stood between us, and eyed first one and then the other with concentrated fury. His rage almost suffocated him. He could only syllable,

"Perfidious one! die!'

Thus saying, he plunged a stiletto, which he had concealed beneath his mantle, in her bosom.

"Ambrosio ! I-am-in-no-cent!' was all she uttered, and died without a groan.

"The assassin instantly disappeared.

"So sudden was the shock this scene of horror excited, that, uncertain how to act, whether to call for assistance or to fly, I stood staring with stony eyes on the lifeless corse before me. So stupified was I indeed that I had not perceived a third person enter the apartment, till he was close by my side. It was the husband of the murdered lady, the Comte Had I been really the criminal, I could not have looked more guilty than I did at this moment. All the danger of my situation rushed into my mind. Every circumstance conspired to rise up in judgment against me. The dagger was still in the side of the bleeding victim, and there was I alone. Who would believe my strange story, or acquit me of the crime?

"The despair of the Count at first swallowed up his vengeance; but he at length called his servants. He would not listen to a word I had to say in my defence, but had me conveyed to the Castle of St. Angelo.

"There I was loaded with chains, and thrown into a cell, or rather vault, in the lowest part of the prison, even below the bed of the Tiber. The only light it admitted was through a grated aperture in the wall, where it was impossible to read at mid-day. I wished to write to our ambassador, but was denied the means.

"The next day I was visited by an agent of the police, who took down my deposition; and I was afterwards confronted with Teresa, the femme de chambre of the deceased Countess; but she denied all the circumstances I had detailed. Had she even admitted them, it

would scarcely have assisted my defence. I was tried, and condemned, and death-an infamous death-seemed inevitable.

"Before the execution of a culprit in the Pontifical States, if he be an infidel, every effort is made to convert him. The priest or chaplain of the prison was my constant visiter. He was an excellent old man. I had previously never thought much on the subject of religion. Few officers in our service had. I was anxious before I left the world to satisfy my mind whether that mode of worship which I adopted, as my fathers had done before me, without inquiry, was in consonance with the true faith. My long imprisonment gave me ample leisure for reflection. One by one I canvassed with the Dominican the tenets of his belief, the great truths of Christianity, and ended in becoming a real believer in what you Protestants call Papacy. "Do not suppose that I was influenced by any expectation of pardon in taking this all-important step. The murder, after the first day of our interviews, never formed the topic of discussion. But as I was now about to renounce my errors, I was exhorted by my holy friend to make an ample confession. What was I to confess but my innocence? I detailed to him all the events as they had occurred. Strange and incredible as my story was, it is not surprising that it should be long before he could believe my narrative. But there is a language in truth, when sanctioned by the holy tie of a sacrament, that the heart cannot mistake. It spoke irresistibly to his heart, and he wept over me as though I had been his own son.

"I cannot describe to you the consolation I derived from my first communion. I now looked on death as a new life. All my gloom vanished, and I prepared for my last hour with resignation and hope.

Hav

"After that most imposing rite, he left me, and immediately proceeded to the house of the Prime Minister of Pius the VII. Cardinal Gonsalvi, to whom he revealed what had passed in confession. ing satisfied that worthy and excellent man of my innocence, he interceded with the holy father for my liberation. A week had scarcely elapsed, when, at an unusual hour my prison-doors were opened, as I thought to lead me to execution, but, instead, I heard the voice of my benevolent old friend, who exclaimed,

"Signore,' said he, 'you are free.' "And the murderer?' I asked.

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"The murderer,' replied the officer, was never discovered. Unless he had left his name engraven on the hilt of his stiletto, how should he?'

After a pause my friend continued his story. "Genoa was the next scene where these words that I hardly dare name without shuddering brought with them consequences, though not quite so serious, yet by no means agreeable.

"Genoa, were it not for its arbitrary masters, would perhaps be the most desirable residence in Europe. Splendid palaces are to be let at the most reasonable rate. The climate, excepting during the few months that the Maestrael prevails, is mild-always salubrious. There are three public libraries, a good opera, and there was the best company of tragedians in Italy, till the funds to assist in their maintenance were handed over to the Jesuits. The Brignola and other palaces are open to strangers; and all the luxuries of life are cheap and excellent. There is, however, as I said, one drawback,

one countervailing objection, that neutralizes all these advantages,the Piemontezi; and it is for this reason that foreigners at Genoa are few in number, particularly French and English, on whom those new lords look with suspicion, dreading lest they should inoculate their subjects with those liberal principles which our constitutional government enjoys. The word, Constitution' is to them what 'Tis he' is to me, —an abhorrence.

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"I can only say that you English were not a little instrumental in bringing about the present state of things, in annihilating that ancient republic, which, admirably situate as it is, might have been a bulwark against arbitrary power, and a rallying-point for free principles in Italy. The Marchese John Carlo di Negro, a poet and improvisatore, and, more than that, an excellent and hospitable man, pointing to a terrible fortress then erecting to overawe the city, said to me, Behold, a present from the English!' When you go to Genoa, you will one day visit his villa and gardens, formed out of an old ruined bastion, and standing islanded in the centre of the city, on which it looks down,-the finest panorama in the world. What a paradise that villa is! and what a paradise I thought Genoa when I first came to settle in it! But, what an odious little disjunction it is! You shall hear how it turned out to be an inferno to me. "I frequently passed my mornings in the Bino Library, and there became acquainted with a Marseillois, who, if alive, doubtless still follows his old trade - a trade which the Greeks called sycophancy that had then a different signification to what we now give itespionage. He was a little man, somewhat of a petit-maître, with a countenance rather sly than intelligent, though he did not want for talents. There was in his eye a great power of inquiry, and a nervous trepidation in his form and gestures that betrayed either guilt or the dread of detection-perhaps both.

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"He wore a petite moustache troussée, of which he was not a little vain; for, I must tell you, that during the time of my story an order was issued for all mustaches, excepting those of officers on service, to be mercilessly put under the hands of the barber,- served as the Grand Turk has lately done the beards of the Moslems. This exception in favour of my friend was not without its merits; for, as it is, or is supposed to be, the distinguishing mark of Carbonareism-it gave him the character of belonging to that society. Perhaps you do not know what the word 'Carbonareism' comes from, though you cannot be ignorant that it implies Freemasonry. The sect, then, owes its origin to the charcoal-burners-mountaineers, who, in all countries are noted for their love of freedom. These illuminati, in spite of persecution and proscription, are continually increasing, and amount, at the lowest calculation, to fifty thousand. With us, Freemasonry has died a natural death, grown into disuse from its inutility; but not so with the Transalpines. Let the tyrants tremble, as they well may, at the name!

"But my countryman was no Carbonaro, or if he ever was one, had turned Calderaio- a renegade, or informer. It is a dangerous apostacy. His was an office that might well whiten his cheek and make his nerves quiver; for, in case of detection, not all the bayonets of the Jard could save him from the vengeance of the brotherhood. I was once acquainted with a Calderaio, a German, or a soi-disant German baron, who has now been voluntarily confined at Spilsberg

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